"Seduction"

by Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer
Enforcer Kirsha Dublai

Location: Multiple, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.19 00h35

***

57910.18 09h15

He looked at Farrell with an obvious scowl of distaste. "I'm not certain I really like this part of your plan. What if she doesn't act as you predict?"

"She will. If she's anything like others I've known, she will. And I know you've got the stamina."

Sanat look unconvinced. "She's an Andorian." The FCO replied as if that was reason enough to discontinue Farrell's plan.

"I know, and that's what makes it so perfect. Counseling's got her pegged. She's a target."

"You are sure this is really necessary?" His look remained dubious as he waited for Mason to answer. The thought of it made his stomach grow queasy.

"Think of it as taking one for the team, my man," Farrell said. "Enjoy it. Nobody's going to expect it. Have a good time."

***

57910.19 00h35, Gamma Shift, The Bridge

Sanat tried to ignore Kirsha as she circled around him for the third time. While she was not unattractive for an Andorian, his stomach churned at the thought of trying to get into her bed. A wry smile appeared in his mind, Mason's going to owe me big for this...

When she reached the area in front of him, Sanat asked tartly, "Do you require something, Sir?"

"Don't we all at one time or another?" she drawled, one corner of her lips curling sinuously. "There hasn't been much time for it lately," Kirsha continued wistfully, "but when the opportunity presents itself, one must seize it, mustn't they?" She stopped before him to meticulously take in the full length of him.

Sanat blinked. "I'm not sure I understand your request, Sir."

Her chuckle was throaty, husky. "A man like you?" Kirsha's blue lips formed a salacious grin. "You can certainly think of something, can't you? Or...you could perhaps drop by my quarters and I can explain it to you more" --she gestured vaguely with a single hand-- "intensively."

Damn! I hate it when he's right, his mind said, referring to Mason's earlier revelation. As she leaned closer towards him, Vijay's eyebrow cocked slightly, partly out of amusement and partly to convince Dublai of his possible interest in her. "I see...and your explanation would," the half Vulcan made a point of looking her over, "be of interest to me?"

One of the Andorian's antennae tilted forward to brush his cheek. "Oh, I imagine we can somehow work in your own amusement, while tending to mine."

"Fascinating...what you suggest it sounds...intriguing," he replied with a slightly interested expression, trying hard to not overplay his hand. The half Vulcan's fingers slowly reached up and touched his cheek where her antenna had been. The sensation was truly intriguing; maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all....

"You are a perceptive one, Vulcan," the Andorian commented. She leaned in closer, and breathed, "And receptive..."

He blinked noncommittally. "Will I be granted a...private audience to discuss this...matter, Sir?" Sanat maintained eye contact with the female Enforcer now that they were face to face.

Kirsha grinned hungrily. "I'll let you in." She sized him up one last time, and emitted a moaning sigh. "Definitely..." And sauntered away, hips swaying lasciviously beneath the imposing red armor molded to them. "I'll be in touch," she called back, the sexual undertones of her promise incapable of being lost on the harassed Vulcan.

Hooboy...now the 'fun' really begins... Sanat's brain added as he nodded in her sexually charged wake. He answered her parting words with, "Yes, Sir." Under his breath he uttered to the console in front of him, "Of that, there can be noooo doubt..."

***

57910.19 08h35, VIP Quarters, USS Sulu

Sanat stopped at the door, not quite sure if the tube Mason had given him was going to be all that effective with Kirsha. Even though it was a special formulation, the Enforcers seemed totally ruthless and he just might get beaten for this rather than a normal sexual tryst as Mason's sources had seemingly indicated.

Summoning up some courage, the FCO pressed the door chime once and waited as Kirsha had instructed. His stomach threatened to leave him standing there all alone as it gurgled incessantly.

The call to enter came, and when the door heeded to Sanat's presence, the Andorian ordered him to proceed forward. Her chuckle emerged from the depths of the room, where she was nowhere to be seen. "Don't be afraid...I won't hurt you unless it suits my fickle desires."

"Though I go into the Valley of Deat..." the FCO murmured as he stepped over the threshold and into the darkened room. "Of course, Sir, that would certainly stifle tonight's discussion, would it not?" His eyes adjusted relatively quickly to the darkness, and Vijay noted that the room had been altered from its prim, possibly, staid Starfleet regulation decor.

Gone were the more mundane tables, chairs, desks and accouterments that a typical Federation VIP would normally utilize for conducting business while aboard the Sulu. In their place where cushions, pillows, a stand for the Enforcer's body armor, the blood red protective gear putting a somber mood on why Sanat was here and what he was about to do; a variety of low settees, stools and thickly cushioned chairs finished off the room. It struck him as a curious mix of furniture given the Enforcer's duties onboard.

And their attitude in general.

"You like?" Standing in the entryway, sporting a constrictive black bodysuit with no discernible neckline, Kirsha watched him greedily. One lazy, blue finger wound its way down the exposed portion of her torso, between the cleft of both supple breasts, wending a path over her abdomen, and finally smoothing a hand over the curve of her stomach. She chuckled at his speechlessness. "So...do you?"

Literally awestruck by her entrance, Vijay answered the query with a raised eyebrow and in a low voice told himself, "I believe our conversation will be most intriguing indeed..." Much to his own dismay, he felt aroused by her choice of clothing; it both stimulated his imagination and libido at the same time. Trying to keep up appearances, he answered coyly, "Oh yes, Sir. The room is very well suited to, ah, talking."

The sultry laugh returned. "I meant," she clarified, "my outfit." The Andorian pushed gently away from the wall, and added, "Please, call me Kirsha. We're both friends, after all, and this is hardly a formal meeting, else you would be wearing your uniform, no?"

"Yes, of course...Kirsha." Sanat tried to hide the lusty look in his eyes as she advanced, perhaps more accurately, sinuously wound her way closer towards him. "Your attire is very invigorating." The FCO waved his hand in front of his loose cotton clothing. "This is all that was left of my wardrobe besides uniforms...I thought this would be more comfortable for our...chat."

Sanat turned his attention back to Kirsha while struggling to hide his own growing desire to touch her magnificently well-toned body, Besides...I doubt I'll be in it for very long...

Kirsha's face lingered close to his, their eyes leveled by the heeled shoes elevating her. "Your attire is inconsequential," she purred as a blue hand stroked his cheek; in the dimly lit room, her flesh seemed to leave a glowing, phosphorescent trail on his face. "Drink?" Kirsha breathed, but awaited no reply before she slipped away to the replicator, although her hand did remain against his cheek a moment longer than could be deemed proper.

Her touched burned his skin, but he said nothing initially as he fought to remind himself this was the enemy...their enemy. Still, she was a woman and it appeared one that knew how to best arouse a perspective partner. "Yes, that will be acceptable." Sanat let his eyes follow Dublai's movements as she made a point of sensuously swaying her hips for maximum effect while strolling to the replicator, and placing just the right amount of bounce in her step to accentuate other features on her way back.

Upon her return, as she offered him a glass of the bubbling spirit, he let, "Intriguing," slip from his lips.

"Oh?" She grinned. "Care to elaborate?"

He lowered the glass after an aborted sip. "That your arm...uniform, leaves no evidence of chafing," Vijay almost added to his chagrin, "on your lithe body." But he managed to control the urge to further compliment her sultry appearance and instead elaborated, "It seems I brought this ointment for no reason."

Kirsha paused mid-sip and quirked an eyebrow at Sanat over the brim of her goblet. "Ointment, you say?" Her painted lips stretched lasciviously, and with piqued interest she moved in closer for a look.

Raising the glass for a quick sip, he found he could not keep from watching as Kirsha purposely gave him a lingering look at her tantalizingly ample breasts when she leaned closer to look for his gift. There was a faint hint of her perky nipples as they pressed outwardly against the Andorian's tightly clinging bodysuit.

"This ointment," she whispered against his cheek, still visually searching his person for the gift, "you will show it to me."

Internally focusing on the task at hand, Sanat pulled the phallic shaped tube from his shirt pocket and held it out where she could see it. "I am told it helps relax the muscles after a long day of...duty."

"Just what I need." After pulling back to view his gift, one hand slid up his chest, then across and along his arm until it had relieved Sanat of his glass. "You will apply it," she told him. "Women in my position aren't given many luxuries. And I will have this one," she cooed and backed away from the Vulcan.

"As you wish." Kirsha's perfume wafted up his sensitive nostrils; the scent was intoxicating although having been applied with purposeful subtlety, it did not overpower. Damn. The Enforcer wasn't making this job any easier, and to boot, his keen hearing denoted her readiness for physical pleasuring. Hooboy, his mind said as it tried to keep the distracted officer focused.

Vijay watched intently as Kirsha causally walked across the room and bent over with more effort than was really necessary to place both half-full glasses on a small pale green end table. He couldn't stop staring at her well-formed posterior outlined by the dark skintight suit. When she began to stand upright once more, the half Vulcan tried to avert his eyes just as she turned back to regard him.

She chuckled at his modesty, an almost lyrical sound undercut by the grinding of a zipper being dragged down. "Don't be shy.... It'll be more fun for the both of us if you simply give in to your desires, Vulcan. We Andorians do like our men...aggressive." Her smile was now nearly feral.

Although he forced himself to play the part, it didn't take that much effort to say with a leering smile, "I was simply admiring the finer aspects of Andorian physiology before we begin to, ah...talk." Sanat watched with a barely restrained fascination as she made a sexually charged display of pulling her back zipper down.

She peeled back the long sleeves encasing her arms, one at a time and with a sensuality that enhanced her nakedness. The bodice of her outfit hung draped over her hips, while her hands smoothed upwards, approaching her luminous, blue chest. "That ointment, Vulcan?" she prompted huskily.

His ears tingled as the miniscule vibrations echoed inside his head. It further extenuated his growing, unchecked lust. And since he didn't need the biological stimulation of Pon Farr to exercise his passions, the female Enforcer's baiting simply heightened that aspect of his unique physiology.

The tall man aroused further than he realized, suddenly strode forward and grabbed Kirsha by both arms. His gaze, fueled by a lustful glint in his eyes, ended with Vijay pulling her towards him and with a forceful lunge, planted his lips over hers, strongly kissing the woman passionately.

Her reaction was one of receptivity and reciprocation, silky feminine lips feasting from his and hands roughly grasping the front of his shirt. A deep growl rumbled in her throat, deceptively alluding to a primal sexual need, for next Sanat was stumbling backwards from a blow to his chest by the flat of her hand. There was not anger when he looked upon Kirsha's face, only amusement. "Enthusiastic...aren't we?" She grinned. "I want my massage, Vulcan, then you may have your reward, but not before then," she warned. Still smiling appreciatively at his ardor, Kirsha squeezed out of the bodysuit fully and stepped free as it dropped to her feet. "Take off your shirt," she ordered, then turned away and knelt to the ground.

He barely reacted to her mild show of violence, being the stronger of the two. Sanat's voice was husky and thick, "Yes...Kirsha." When she turned away he shook his head to clear away the passion inspired cobwebs.

His mind squeaked out, She's an 'Enforcer', you lout! And an Andorian to boot! You're not supposed to be enjoying this! As he watched her waiting naked for him (with the exception of her high-heeled shoes), to massage in an ointment with unique qualities, the FCO momentarily disregarded the tiny voice in his head for more tangible pleasures.

Sanat took off his shirt and let it drop onto the floor. Grasping the tube, he knelt down behind Kirsha and uncapped it. The half Vulcan took care to squeeze out a sufficient quantity into his hands and warm it in both palms before slowly spreading some on her back. Mason had insisted the thick lotion, one laced with powerful Andorian aphrodisiacs, would take several minutes to reach its maximum effect. Vijay knew the trick would be to get enough onto Kirsha's body so that she would fall under its spell before the Enforcer grew suspicious of his motivations.

He began to rub the ointment in small circles, paying particular attention to her shoulders and upper back. It was his turn to whisper in her ear, "You prefer a vigorous massage, yes?"

She smirked over her shoulder. "Just don't miss anywhere," Kirsha advised him. Her features changed briefly as her senses perceived the ointment's aromatics, and she paused in thought to consider the fragrance. "An interesting aroma," she mused, and sighed at his ministrations. "What is it?"

His hands were now working their way down her back towards Kirsha's shapely luminescent blue hips. "It's a little something I picked up on DS9 during our last stopover." He lied; but then it didn't matter given their current plight or oppressors. Or did it? Sanat let his hands glide over her hips and linger briefly as they kneaded and squeezed both sensuously. After a few moments, he began to work back towards her spine; the power in the half Vulcan's hands was very evident to her as Vijay alternated between firm and soft muscle manipulation(s).

She refused to praise his technique by emitting a moan, though a relaxed sigh did escape and a detectable shudder coursed through her. Kirsha cleared her throat to cover the moment of weakened control and stiffened again. It was difficult not to melt under Sanat's deft hands, and even more impossible to think with the floral, heady scent emanating from the oils. "What--" She cleared the thickness from her throat. "What is this? It's...delicious."

The pilot smiled and replied while letting his hands slide outward and up her sides, "An Orion relaxation formula...the Ferengi that sold it to me swore it worked miracles on sore and stiff muscles." Another lie. How proud mother will be, Vijay mused sarcastically to himself, the half Vulcan taking a scant moment to consider his role in this subterfuge. With an almost expert touch, he softly pulled, stretched, and purposefully worked the Andorian equivalent anterior serratus' while asking, "Does it please you?"

Kirsha glanced over one shoulder, glistening from the coating of oil, and grinned at Sanat. "It does," she husked, and sagged against him.

He felt his male anatomy begin to stir as she leaned backward onto his bare chest and pulled both of his slippery hands to her supple breasts. Kirsha moved them back and forth across her nipples...tantalizing his fingers with the desire to caress them while satisfying herself with the man's callused hands. After a few lingering moments, she guided them slowly to her stomach, gradually pushing both hands down the length of her abdomen to the apex of her thighs.

"You're definitely a pilot," she breathed. A quick bite to her bottom lip stifled a loud moan, but her rotating hips rubbing rearward against Sanat's groin evidenced her arousal. "Very, very good hands," she explained in a shuddering whisper.

Sanat let out a restrained growl. "Yes, they are, aren't they?" He felt himself stiffen as she gyrated against him lustfully while his fingers involuntarily flexed themselves on her thighs. Vaguely and with some effort, Vijay remembered Mason's instructions, for suddenly he said amidst their rising passion, "You should lie down so I can finish your massage, Kirsha," his actions being easily construed as an intentional sexual tease as he took pleasure assisting the female Enforcer onto her stomach.

He reached for more ointment to apply while admiring her luscious blue profile in the dim lighting. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it, the pilot told himself greedily, but a small note of consternation that still resided in the back of his mind made sure he kept enough wits about himself, long enough, to finish the job as it was meant to be finished.

The act of prostrating caused a draft and wafted more of the intoxicating aroma towards the Andorian's nostrils. A deep inhalation pulled more of the stimulating, floral scent in, and Kirsha became more fully enthralled. She groaned deeply and began to writhe under Sanat's attentions. "I had thoughts to taking out my aggravation on you tonight," she purred. "But now...." Kirsha gave a soft, clipped cry as Sanat's hands kneaded into her lower back, easing all strain. She reached back and tightly gripped his thigh. "When this is over...you will return to the Windsor with me." It was more an order than a request, and by her throaty chuckle, it was clear what purpose he would serve there.

He did nothing to remove Dublai's hand as the Andorian's fingernails began to dig into his flesh with each passing moment, the pain serving to heighten his own growing carnal needs. The half Vulcan returned her throaty chuckle with one of his own as he moved his constantly rubbing hands from her lower back down her well defined buttocks. "As you command...Kirsha."

"As I command," she drawled, and grinned. "That sounds magical issuing from your lips...those lips...." Kirsha sighed, her antennae sagging in defeat, as her will was completely overpowered.

Vijay let her words drift by unchallenged while he slid his hands down around her legs to a point where his thumbs began to gently manipulate her inner thighs, slowly working their way down her long legs. "I'm sure I could be of some use to you...perhaps for some...intelligent conversation?" The FCO enjoyed the soft silky feel of her skin as his hands worked it back and forth...the sensation was stimulating...for both of them.

"That's not what you're here for," Kirsha whispered, dipping her hand between his legs, and giving a meaningful caress.

He restrained a guttural groan of pleasure; Sanat could feel his passion growing alongside hers, the woman's blatant touch making him grow firm with its subtle implication. Vijay closed his eyes, trying not to give into an overwhelming urge to simply roll her over and lose himself in crazed sexual intercourse. But he was discovering that bit-by-bit, his mental resolve for detachment had slowly weakened with each knead, each touch of her blue skin; pleasurable sex was going to be inevitable now, especially since it had almost overwhelmed any logical impulses his brain may have had left.

Grasping at the last vestiges of his inherited Vulcan mental fortitude, he slipped-off the black, spiked, high heel shoes and proceeded to lightly squeeze Kirsha's feet, eliciting a light moan out of her as he massaged them. His fingers worked progressively harder against her soles and then eased up to tug at her toes and then back again.

The potent ointment, combined with Sanat's rousing massage and innate Andorian tendencies seemed to evoke an unexpected reaction in Kirsha. She swayed restlessly beneath his touch, and deep, trilling growls reverberated in her throat as something primal awakened in her. Her muscles tensed and coiled beneath his fingertips as Kirsha pushed up slowly on her hands, narrowed, hungry gaze now on Sanat. A feral, lustful smile flashed her blue-tinged teeth at him before she sprang up and pounced on the Vulcan.

At first Sanat was stunned when she literally ripped his pants off in one frenzied tug of her strong hands. However, he remained on his knees, facing her. Kirsha's nipples were barely touching his as they regarded one another hungrily.

Vijay was now beyond all hope of maintaining any semblance of mental discipline. The man knew that although he was here for a purpose, to seduce and possibly recruit the Enforcer, her virile reaction to Farrell's secret formula had aroused the fire in his blood that was virtually impossible to quench once ignited. He slowly reached out with his ointment-coated hands and rested them on her shoulders, letting them gradually slide as though gravity was tugging them towards the woman's slender neck...their ultimate goal plainly evident.

Nearly salivating now, Kirsha wedged her forearms between his and thrust outward, breaking his hypnotic grip on her and sending his arms splaying. Andorian strength competed with Vulcan power as the enforcer shoved Sanat to the ground and lay flat atop him. "No talking," she rasped, nipping at his lips and thighs squeezing his waist.

The closeness of her body to his, the aroma of her desire was too much to overcome. Try as he might, Vijay could not fight his aroused urges any longer. "Agreed." He pulled Kirsha's face downward, kissing her roughly while letting his hands glide down to her hips. Grabbing them firmly, he exerted enough pressure to slide her down so their pelvises came in direct contact with each other's.

Kirsha let fly a shrill, Andorian exclamation with head tossed back, then heaved wildly against Sanat with a delirium unmatched by that which she often experienced in the height of a blood lust. This was proving far more satisfying than a kill during combat.

Sanat's chest rumbled with primal sounds brought on by Dublai's skillful movements meant to bring his lust up to a fever pitch. His hands moved up to her breasts as he let Kirsha squirm back and forth, figuratively impaling herself on his maleness with an excited urgency. The pilot literally growled out his delight, squeezing both breasts with his thumbs pressed against her nipples in the delirious sex that ensued.

For now, nothing short of a supernova could stop their wild, unadulterated copulation....

***

The ointment, the philter meant to bend the belligerent Andorian to Sanat's will proved its worth, and far exceeded expectations of its potency. Even after its effects had waned, Sanat and Kirsha continued their aggressive coupling. Only after their third go did they end their tumultuous lovemaking, when physical limitations prevailed over their enhanced sexual drives, and as they lay together, sweat-soaked arms, legs, and lips still entangled, and Kirsha cooing Sanat's name, was it more than clear that Farrell's plot to secure an ally amongst the Enforcers had succeeded.

---

"Intolerable Bondage"
by Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft, Commanding Officer
and Lt. Commander Damhnait Sefton, Chief Medical Officer

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.19, 05h12

***

The lighting within Sickbay was subdued when Tebrianne Bancroft entered. It was Gamma watch, so she didn't expect many to be present. A nurse worked in one corner, checking the status of the few patients present. She looked toward the office, where the glow of the light within gave the only indication of the occupant Teb sought. She crossed the distance quietly. The nurse looked up, and Teb thought she saw fear in her expression.

"I'm just 'ere to see the doctor," Teb said. "I'm not gonna 'urt anyone."

Nurse Carrie Cole nodded slowly, then pointed to the office. "She's inside," she said warily.

"Thanks," Tebrianne said. And, so she moved over to the office. Her mission here tonight was dangerous, but there was no other way around it. She tapped lightly at the frame of the door. "Dr. Sefton, I'd like a few moments of your time if you're not too busy."

"Please, come in, sir," Sefton said, her expression blank. Damhnait had attempted to use the same tone of voice she might use on a patient, but a hint of her distrustful tone, honed for the Enforcers, slipped through.

Tebrianne glanced back into Sickbay, and then stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. She sat in the chair before the doctor's desk and regarded the Betazoid woman for a long moment before speaking. "What do you know of...my background, Doctor?"

"Your Starfleet Record is on file, sir," Sefton responded matter-of- factly.

"Five years ago, I was serving on the USS Windsor, and an accident on our first mission pulled me into this...this mirror universe." She leaned forward, searching Damhnait's face. "Doctor, I want to go home."

"We all do," Sefton replied, not unkindly.

"And, I want to do what I can, Doctor, to make sure we all get there."

Considering Teb appraisingly, Sefton asked, "What can you do?"

"I'll 'ave to be subtle about it, but since I'm in command of the ship, I can make sure the Enforcers are looking where we want them to. Because of the paranoia among these people, I can't be overt in my actions, but I can help a resistance along. I can help make sure when it's time to revolt, the pieces are in place."

"What do you propose I do from within the Enforcers' blind spot?" Sefton asked guardedly.

"You're a member of the senior staff, and one who is in a position to meet with many people aboard the ship. As the chief medical officer, it's your duty to see to the welfare and well-being of the crew. For now, we need to make sure the crew is aware of the situation, and that we can fight back...but the time has to be right. We need to get where we're going, to be in a position to go through, and until that time, it's important things appear normal to the Enforcers."

Nodding at Tebrianne's reasoning, Damhnait said, "Sickbay is the gossip hub of the ship. My nurses can ensure the word is heard."

"Within the Enforcers' blind spot, we need someone to help guide the various elements into place, to get them ready. We'll need a means to eliminate the Enforcers when the time comes. Something that acts fast, and can take them all at once. We need to do it with a minimum of fighting. Do you believe it would be possible to create some sort of...knock-out gas? Something the crew can be made immune to, but would put the Enforcers out long enough for us to retake the ship when we need to?"

"We have a number of airborne anaesthetics in storage. Several are even loaded into the environmental systems' mechanisms already, but we will need considerable blindspots to inoculate the entire crew. Or a lie, I suppose. A patient could show symptoms of one of the viruses this crew has been exposed to over the past few months... Do any of the Windsor personnel on board the Sulu have medical expertise?" Sefton asked, immediately pondering how the plan could unravel.

"Nothing more than basic field medical skills," Tebrianne said. "Pretty rudimentary, as far as I know. You've had people roaming to check in with crew, right? What if you use some of that time as an opportunity to also pass out a few shots. I think it should be possible to 'ave an outbreak. Inoculate the Sulu crew, and hit the Enforcers with a placebo shot."

"Exactly," Damhnait stated. "There is no way to prevent a body from metabolising it fairly quickly, though. We cannot inoculate the crew until approximately fourteen to twenty hours before the gas is released."

"That'll put us just about at the Gate," Teb said. She grinned suddenly as her hope soared. The prospect of going home had never seemed so real. "The preliminary plan will have us in-system for about four hours or so before we can pull off whatever our final plan turns out to be. I think the timing should work well. You may need to simulate something to help convince the Enforcers on the ship that something really is wrong. Give yourself time to study and prepare. That way it won't seen too contrived. If you've got a good actor onboard, they'd probably make a fairly convincing patient zero. I think it can work. We'll just need to make sure the inoculation is ready, and the gas is in place when it comes time to act. We'll have to time it fairly close. I think once we're in- system, we'll 'ave a little more freedom to act. There is a danger in doing this, but I'll protect those involved as much as I can. Is this something you're willing to do, to 'elp free the ship and get back home?"

"There are things too recent to be in your Record that our Starfleet possesses," Damhnait said with careful consideration. "Can you answer a question for me?"

"Of course," Teb answered.

"Why does the Empire trust you?" Damhnait forthrightly asked.

"I've been here for five years," Tebrianne answered. "I've proved my loyalty to T'Briane and the Windsor numerous times in the past. At the time, it was all I had. It was go with them, or give up. I don't like giving up. If you can't beat them, join them...at least until something better comes along. I don't know if I'd say they trust me, but I don't believe they suspect betrayal from me."

Sefton nodded her acceptance, albeit begrudgingly. The probabilities were against the crew of the Sulu beating back the Sovereign-class Windsor and its own crew, without a little help from their own... at least until something better came along. "Then I believe we can work together," Damhnait affirmed. "I suggest you speak to Lieutenant Thaine next. Even if we regain the ship, it would be wise to set up transport inhibitors to keep the ship as our own, in the event of shield failures."

"I'll visit with Mr. Thaine and run some of my ideas by him," Tebrianne said. "I'll also make sure he has transport inhibitors ready for when we do retake the ship. They should be placed in key locations, and I'm sure he and Commander T'Kal will have some ideas about their placement."

Doctor Sefton nodded. "I will keep you informed of the status of the incipient Yxrk virus outbreak."

"Thank you, Doctor," Tebrianne said with a smile. "I'll keep you apprised of any developments from my side as well."

"Take care, Captain," Sefton said, but still wasn't wholly sure if she meant it or not.

Tebrianne stood and started toward the door. "You too, Doctor," she said. "And, stay safe." With that, she slipped out of the office, and back out into the ship. It had begun, and she could only hope it would be enough...

---

"Secret Meetings, Secret Plans"
By: 'Captain' Tebrianne Bancroft
and Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Main Engineering, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.19, 05h30

***

Tebrianne entered main engineering, her boots ringing on the deckplates. She was a fairly small woman, but still an impressive sight. Before she'd joined Starfleet, she'd been a performer. And, even ever since she'd joined, a large part of her time had been performance as well. Usually it was limited to holodecks, but she'd still maintained the same presence on stage and off. It always brought a smile to her face when someone commented that she'd always seemed so much taller.

Now, she strode toward where the Sulu's chief engineer worked. She asked a passing crewman where Thaine was located, and he pointed her along toward the main office. Teb gave the man a nod and continued on. She wanted to thank him, but knew if she was too courteous, word would spread and she'd have trouble. She appeared in Thaine's doorway and was relieved to find the engineer alone, stood up and studying a number of PADDS laid out upon his desk.

"Lt. Thaine," she said. "I need a few words with you."

The engineer looked up, as if startled, and rewarded Tebrianne with a bizarre mixture of suspicion and relief. "Thought you were Crix," he admitted, standing slightly straighter. "Something wrong?" His manner was, at first glance, relaxed, but there was a definite sense of wariness about him.

Tebrianne stepped into the office and closed the door. She pulled out a tricorder and ran a quick scan. Once she was satisfied there were no listening devices, she tapped in a sequence that would allow them to speak without fear of having their conversation picked up in other ways. Talking to Dr. Sefton was one thing, talking in the area of a known tinkerer was something entirely different.

"Lieutenant, what I'm about to tell you is extremely confidential, and can get us all killed if overheard by the wrong people. I'm not from this universe. I'm from yours, and I want to go home. I've begun working on a plan that will allow the Sulu to get home, and stop the invasion force waiting at the Gate. I need your help in this."

Thaine stared at her, blinked once or twice, and finally rubbed his chin in thought. "Y'know," he said, "that sounds so crazy it could almost be true."

"It's because it is, mate," Teb said. "Before I was stranded here, I served aboard the USS Galaxy and then on the Windsor. I was born near the Romulan Neutral Zone and raised on Earth. My parents are George and Victoria Bancroft, and my brother Michael is an admiral in Starfleet. Benedict...Commander T'Kal can verify all of it."

"He can?" If Thaine noticed the way she referred to T'Kal as Benedict, he didn't show it. After studying her for a moment longer, the engineer's skepticism relented. "Alright...I doubt you'd tell me T'Kal could confirm all that if you were lying. Tell me what help you need."

"Currently the Sulu and Windsor are travelling toward a fleet of ships poised and ready to go through a gateway that will take them to our universe. Their plan is to destroy the Dominion there, and then proceed through the wormhole to launch a war against the Federation and other alpha quadrant powers. We can't break free of the Enforcers' control before we get there, because we need to still appear friendly when we arrive at the Gate. We'll be going through and disabling it at the same time, but we need a means to eliminate the Enforcers in control of this ship to do it. I've already talked to Dr. Sefton. She and her people are going to work up an airborne agent that will take out the Enforcers when it's time. What we need is a mechanism to deliver that throughout the ship. That's where you and your department come in. We'll also need transport inhibitors in place once we do retake the ship because we don't want the Windsor just beaming another team over."

"The transporter inhibitors won't be a problem," said Thaine, rubbing his chin. "But..." he glanced to the door, "I've got that Crix breathing down my neck. I've got an idea for taking care of flooding the ship with whatever Sefton cooks up, but we've gotta get Crix out of the picture." He paused slightly. "He's sharp. Real sharp. So sharp I think he once cut himself, and never got over it."

"I'll see what I can do to divert his attention," Teb said. "I doubt I can keep him away all the time, but when you need him out of the way, I can find a project for him."

Thaine nodded. "I'll contact the rest of my department. How'd I contact you, if I need to get a message to you?"

"If you need to contact me, use the ship's communications and let me know the shielding on the port lateral thrusters needs to be replaced. Replace them when I tell you, and I'll get down here to check your work. You can deliver the message then. I shouldn't stay too long. I'll try to check in with you soon to see how things are progressing." With that, she stood and started toward the door. "We're all getting home, Lieutenant." And, with that, she slipped out the door and was gone.

---

"Ain't Going To Be Pretty!"
By: Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal; Chief Security Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Deck 15
Stardate: 57910.19 06h30

***

Deck Fifteen was nearly always deserted. Few people ever came down here, especially in flight. The deck was at the bottom of Sulu's rounded hull, and thus was comparatively small, even for the Intrepid-class design. It contained a tractor beam emitter and the footpads used for planetary landings. It also contained the antimatter loading port, and the shielding around it made a good portion of deck fifteen that was impossible to scan thoroughly.

And thus, Farrell was here. Waiting.

T'Kal stepped around the smaller corridor and nodded to Farrell, waving on toward the next junction. As they stepped around the corner he slapped the door actuator for the small MSV bay that was tucked between the mechanicals. The diagonal doors slid open and Benedict stepped inside, Farrell followed and the doors closed with a hiss.

"Commander Lyrr told me that she'd given you free reign to use your talents against the Enforcers," Benedict began with a smirk. "I need to know what's been done so far and where we are at. There's a plan being put together and I want to make sure you're aware of the details and if there's anything I can do to make it easier for you to do what has to be done."

"Engineering's on board any resistance plan. We've got ideas, but none that are particularly workable, given the timeframe. What's the word from the top?" Farrell kept it all business.

"Captain Salinger has been abducted. He's on the Windsor. The Sulu is presently under the command of Lieutenant Commander Tebrianne Bancroft. She's the twin of Captain T'Briane, and five years ago she was my fiancée. It's a long story, but she's on our side. She's going to try to help us get home." He paced before Farrell casting glances at the man and the stars streaking by the view port.

Over the next ten minutes Benedict explained the situation with the Gateway to their universe, the gathering invasion fleet and the Bajoran built space station that controlled their only means to get home. He outlined the contact Tebrianne had with Commander Sefton, the idea of a gas attack, the work being done on the collars and Sefton's scan of one, the status of the TAC Team and the need for them to accompany Tebrianne on a last minute trip to the Windsor to rescue Captain Salinger. The need for an infiltration team to get onto the Gateway station to gain access to the codes and what ever else they needed to activate the gate, and finally destroy it.

"It's paramount that the Gate and the station is destroyed. If not, the armada will strike into the Gamma Quadrant and next comes the Federation. We need a way to get onto that station, Mason. We'll arrive at the gate system in a couple days and we hope to lose ourselves in the gathering armada. The Nightingale can get off the Sulu without being seen. The mission will be infiltration...you'll need to come up with a cover, but one thing Tebrianne has indicated to us is that the Drokari are a major faction here...and we have a Drokari Princess on board. Maybe we can use that?"

Farrell had been soaking it all in, until a single phrase bounced back out of line and forced a response. "Hold up," he said. "I need to come up with a cover? For what?"

"To get the team onto the station," Benedict said. "You'll be going on the Away Team. Hopefully by the time we're ready to go so will I, but the way things are at present...I may not be here."

Farrell thought on that. "Because you'll be. . . " he held out a hand, signalling T'Kal to finish the sentence.

"It seems the captain of the Windsor... wants my presence," he replied coldly. "Unfortunately we're having to try to convince the woman that...." He seemed a little embarrassed by the revelation. "I'm now the property of Commander Bancroft." He cast Farrell a narrow eyed glance. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't find it funny."

Farrell made a guttural sound of stifling a laugh, turned it into a bit of throat clearing and a forced cough, and looked down until he could compose himself. As he was composing himself, he had an idea. And why not voice it? It was no crazier than what he'd been told in the past few minutes.

"Why not just take the Windsor?" he asked simply, looking up.

"Take it for what purpose?" Benedict shot back. "A Sovereign Class vessel has four times the crew of the Sulu, we have thirty four security officers in total...their boarding party equals our entire crew defense capability, and you want to take the Windsor?" Benedict smiled. "You've got balls, Farrell...but I don't think taking the Windsor would solve any of our problems. We have to open that gate before the armada does and we have to take it and the station out. The only way we can accomplish that is from the inside. Not even the firepower of the Windsor would dent the shields of a DS9 station - before the rest of the armada steps in." He shook his head. "We have to take Sulu home."

"A Sovereign's warp core makes a pretty big bomb," Farrell said matter-of-factly.

"Sure it does," Benedict agreed. "But we'd never accomplish that goal. You want to commit suicide? Trying to take a Sovereign Class ship with perhaps twenty security officers is suicide. We'd never get close. A frontal assault isn't going to make it, Farrell. Blunt force tactics will get everyone killed and our goal is to save the crew. I thought you'd be able to come up with something better than that. Turning a warp core into a bomb only works if you ride it out to make sure it goes off. Are you willing to do that yourself? Of course there'd be a determined security force coming at you, and a whole ship load of operations and engineering types determined to stop you too. It's not that easy to make sure a warp core breaches unless you take yourself out with it. I'd rather explore options that are at least realistic and involve a greater chance of survival for my crew."

Farrell took that in without expression, leaning casually against the wall, arms folded. "Okay," he said simply. "So me, Lektar, and. . . some other people are going to board the station, steal access codes, plant explosives, and then. . . " He held out his hand again for the rest of the sentence.

"Get the hell out when we make our move to the Gate," Benedict finished. "If we can time it right, we'll activate the Gate, and make it through just before the station blows. It has to be close or they might be able to use it to follow us. We don't want that."

"And for the sake of planning and logistics," Farrell said off-handedly, "while we're doing all this, the Windsor is. . . "

"Busy elsewhere. Tebrianne said that once we arrive at the Gate system, T'Briane will be required to attend to some fleet business. We are hoping to get lost in the crowd for a short while. We won't be too far away, but far enough to do what we have to. Once the away team has gotten into the Gate station and gives the Sulu a signal that they are ready, the TAC Team and Tebrianne will make a move on the Windsor to rescue Salinger. Teb said that she can impersonate her twin long enough to get to Salinger. If we can pull it off, the Sulu will run past the Windsor, pick up the rescue team and head for the Gate before they know what hit them. The Away team on the station will rendezvous with Sulu at the Gate."

Farrell's eyes grew wider and wider as T'Kal went on. He took a moment to compose his thoughts once the other man had finished. "And this is more likely to succeed than taking the Windsor?"

"It's more likely to get us home, stop the armada from invading and getting us out alive, than throwing ourselves at the Windsor in the middle of an enemy armada. Think about it, Mister Farrell, even if by some miracle we managed to take a ship like the Windsor, what the hell would we do with it? Stay on this side of the Gate? Carve out a part of this universe for ourselves? We have one chance - and that's to get through that Gate before they do, and to take it out in the process. We don't want any gun fights and we don't want to get trapped on this side. If we can pull it off, we'll be saving the Gamma Quadrant and our own Quadrant in the long run. That's what we're going to do. That's the mission." T'Kal's violet gaze weighed Farrell. "You up for it, Mister Farrell?"

T'Kal's unwillingness to think outside the box was staggering. This was the plan? Farrell considered this for a short while. All the variables warred across his mind in seconds. Too many people watching. Too many noses under which to sneak. And too much dependence on others. People would die, and he was being asked to find a way to walk people onto the sharp end.

For some reason, he thought of Potts, and his lone session with the odd little man.

--let's take a close look at everything, Potts said, warming to the chance to analyze. You make inappropriate plans based on impulse and even when they take minutes or hours or days to unfold, you stick by them. You're highly intelligent, Mister Farrell...more so than most even. Is it possible you don't rethink your plans because you're firmly convinced of their utter superiority?

Do they work? Farrell had shrugged.

Ah! Potts exclaimed, genuinely excited. Do they? Your involvement with the Ferengi Malthus eventually got the both of you shot and two other crewmembers killed.

Two people died because he'd had a plan, and stuck to it. Could he ask people to trust him with their lives after that? Could he conceive a plan that would preserve an away team intact and provide a way out for the entire crew? Could he do that with a Sovereign-class vessel watching? Amongst an armada of enemy ships? On an unfamiliar station? Using other people as cover? No, he decided. It couldn't be done. If it was just him, maybe. But with a group along for the ride, he couldn't do it.

But to say that was to stay in Potts' trap. To deny T'Kal's plan was to swath himself in ego and pout that he wasn't getting his way. T'Kal may have been doing exactly what Potts had warned Farrell against, but arguing with him about it wasn't going to help. Even if the fool's plan couldn't be carried out.

Or could it? His mind was beginning to churn in that way he knew too well; the way he'd started to dread. It meant he could find a way, but it wasn't going to be pretty, and it wasn't going to be safe. But still, neither could it be denied.

"Well, hell," he said, quirking a smile. "Reckon everybody's got to die of somethin'. I'll plan your mission."

Benedict had watched the man's mind working, the expressions of doubt warring with an ego that demanded he try...the ego won. "Good," he said with a nod and a slight smile. "Welcome to the team, Mister Farrell. Let's show these bastards what Starfleet Officers are capable of. You do your part - we'll do ours. Good hunting." With that he grinned and opened the bay door. "Keep your head down," he said as a parting warning.

"Keep yours zipped up," Farrell muttered at the man's back.

---

"Laughing Matter"
By: Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.19, 08h00

***

Vincent's shoulders slumped even further. He was exhausted. Although it was true that the Enforcers had sent the Sulu's crew back to their workstations, the Enforcers were still very much in charge. Vincent was afraid even to speak out of turn. He had seen what some of the Enforcers had done to his crewmates and he had no intention of suffering similarly. Hence, Vincent had just put his head down and went about his business, somewhat more quiet than usual. He shuddered to think of what the consequences would be if he played up. Almost as if it were a reminder, his injured collar gave a twinge.

It was drawing to the end of his shift. Despite being on the bridge, Vincent was sufficiently tuned out and he barely noticed what was going on. For him it was just a simple matter of manning his station during his shift and retiring to his quarters afterwards. It was a repetitive routine but it was a safe one. The very idea of socializing was tempting but Vincent thought the risks would be too high. This was one of the reasons why he had not been to see Emma for a while.

The restrictive nature of the Enforcers' occupation of the Sulu was playing havoc with Vincent's mind. He hadn't laughed for days and was afraid even to smile. Once he remembered he had even had to ask permission to go the bathroom. Vincent could swear those painsticks could be the sovereign cure for constipation. He wasn't willing to test his theory however.

As his shift drew a close, Vincent's humorist side demanded to be exercised. Vincent departed the bridge and whilst inside the turbolift his mind raced wildly to think of a suitable practical joke he could play. Many thoughts came to him, including pulling a fire drill for the Security office where the Enforcers were housed. But none seemed to him a safe option. If he pulled the fire drill, he was liable to spend time in the brig. Not a pleasant thought, no matter who was in charge.

Vincent finally settled to simply cause an "acid leak" outside the mess hall. It was the easiest way to cause trouble and it was very likely that he would get away with it. Fingering the phial he always kept in his inner pocket, Vincent grinned for the first time. He always kept a phial of vinegar in his pocket, ready to be united with his old friend bi-carb soda to form the foaming mess that Vincent thrived on.

An enforcer had once seen the phial and when questioned Vincent had said it was simply a lotion that he applied to various sensitive spots on his body. Vincent had a natural born ability to lie very well and consequently the Enforcer, not willing to inspect Vincent's spots, had let the matter drop. Vincent was now to capitalize from the Enforcer's one moment of weakness.

After a brief stop at his quarters to pick a packet of bi-carb soda Vincent entered the mess hall corridor casually. He paused briefly to greet some other Sulu's and continued. His actions so far were not drawing suspicion. There were some Enforcers posted around him, their keen eyes scanning each person intently.

Vincent required all his skill and slight-of-hand to pour the powder into the vinegar and gave a small, yet vigorous shake. This drew the Enforcer's attention for a moment as he noticed Vincent's body jerking up and down. Vincent quickly stopped at this, and transferring the phial to his left he leaned against the wall, putting it into a small niche.

As casually as he entered, Vincent left, pulling the lid just before his departure. Looking back before he turned the corner, he noticed the foaming liquid slowly begin to stain the wall. It had a few seconds to emerge from the niche and only now was the foam beginning to erupt from the small hidden hole that was its source.

Vincent stayed long enough to see a Starfleet officer point at the liquid and remark upon the sour smell, before he jumped around and shouted "Acid!" at the top of voice and got lost among the crowd. The Enforcers were startled into action but were too busy examining the "acid" and keeping the crowd back to notice a lone science officer with an injured arm slip into the turbolift, laughing his head off.

---

"Devil's Advocate"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
Ensign Mason Farrell, Operations

Location: Cargo Bay 1
Stardate: 57910.19, 09h35

***

Shirik made her way to her pre-arranged meeting with Mason Farrell, PADD tucked under her arm and a neutral expression on her face. She took note of any Enforcers she passed only to memorize where they were stationed and any distinguishing features that might be important later.

The doors closed behind her, plunging her into darkness. It felt good. At least, it felt better than actually seeing the cargo bay around her, the place where she first saw the use of the painstick, and was given her collar. She shivered in the dark. The lack of light couldn't stop the memory of the screams she'd heard that day. No one had much cared to return to it since the processing of the first day's occupation, and it was only slowly having its original contents restored. It was here she found Farrell, sitting on a crate against a wall, in the dark. She focused her attention on Farrell, his warm red form in the dark like a beacon, and made her way towards him.

"Mornin'," he said quietly.

"Hello," she said just as quietly. "Are we free to talk here?"

"We're two Operations officers, cataloguing the bay. It's make-work, but no one cares that we're here. What's on your mind?"

"I had a talk with Commander T'Kal last evening," she said. "He gave me some things to pass on to you, including a mission for us to work on."

Farrell looked confused. "There's something else?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"T'kal talked to me a couple of hours ago. Away teams and infiltrations and that sort of thing. Has something changed?"

She frowned. "I see. I wonder why he felt I wasn't capable of letting you know myself, since I'm supposed to plan with you. He told me he would be unavailable for the planning, so I thought I would have to fill you in."

Farrell shrugged. "Who knows how the minds of senior staff work?"

"So, what did he tell you?"

He hesitated before speaking. "Captain Tebrianne's on our side, apparently. This scares me, and I don't really buy it, but faked or not it can be used to advantage. Apparently we're heading for a station-based gateway where an armada is waiting to invade our universe. Someone will be going aboard the station under cover, and stealing access codes and planting explosives. This scares me, too, but might be ballsy enough to work. Oh, and apparently you and I are spearheading the away team. Did you have anything to add?"

She sighed. "Not much, apparently. I can tell you about Tebrianne, and that question you asked about the Windsor crew. Did he speak to you about your idea to disrupt the Enforcers?"

"He didn't. He sounded a little odd, to tell the truth. Apparently he's got to go aboard the Windsor at some point and talk to the other Tebrianne, and he doesn't seem certain he'll be coming back from that," Farrell's voice was flat.

She sighed. This whole thing was getting way too complicated. "He wanted me to pass the word not to disrupt the Enforcers. We want them complacent when it comes time to take them out, not on alert because of malfunctions." She really didn't want to talk about Ben. "He told me that Tebrianne can be trusted, that she's on our side. And I trust him, but... I need to know for myself. This is too important not to be sure. So I'm going to talk to her and see what I can find out. As far as the rest of the Windsor crew, he said he recognized one of the bridge officers, but there's no way to know who else is on the ship or whether he'd know them. Hell, for all we know there could be another T'Kal on that ship, although he seems to think it's unlikely."

She paused, and settled herself onto a crate. "There's a lot that needs to be done between now and when we reach the gate. Our mission has to be ready, the mission to grab the captain has to be ready, and the mission to take out the Enforcers has to be ready. We need to assemble a team, and whatever equipment we'll need. T'Kal told me he'll be with our team. We'll need to disguise someone in our team as a Drokari of some race, simply to keep our cover."

"A Drokari of some race? You mean some race other than a Rennari?" Farrell asked.

"Possibly. It depends on who we decide to disguise. A Drokari princess will typically travel with at least one escort, either another Rennari or a Drevaki bodyguard. T'Kal is the most obvious choice for a Rennari, with his eyes..." she trailed off for a moment as his eyes came to mind, but she shook it off. "I'll have to go through the crew roster, but we'll need mostly security personnel, probably. A demolitions expert would be good, and I happen to know one. I think Calyca should go with us for that."

"How big an entourage do you want?"

"I don't know how big of one will be needed. I'm hoping to get more information about this universe's Drokari from Tebrianne. I imagine the fewer we have to alter the better, since I'm not sure we'll even have access to do the surgical alterations necessary."

"Can you have human slaves, or courtiers?"

"I don't know. I only know what my Drokar is like, and there, we don't have any off-worlders living on Drokar. Who would want to, knowing they'd just be a slave there?"

"Good point," Farrell nodded. "See what you can find out from Tebrianne. Until we know what the Drokari in this reality are like, we can't plan anything effectively."

"Well, we can plan without knowing exactly who will be disguised as what. We know what we need to get done once we get there. We only have a few days to plan, and from what I understand, this will all have to be executed within a few hours."

"A few hours?" Farrell was incredulous. "It'll take a few hours just to get aboard. We're talking about walking onto an unfamiliar station with no information on what we need or who we have to talk to to get it. It'll take a day just to get the lay of the land, let alone start anything into motion."

"T'Kal told me the station is laid out just like DS9. So we can use that station's plans to plan our mission. But... who knows for sure how reliable that is. I don't think we'll have 100% accurate intelligence to rely on."

"Exactly. We aren't going to know anything for certain until we're there." Farrell exhaled noisily as he thought. "We'd be better off taking the Windsor."

"That's not even a possibility to think about," she said. "We'll be lucky if they don't blow the Sulu out of space while we're planting explosives on the station. We'll be taking the Nightingale, so we'll have to get both ships through the gate before it blows, assuming we're successful." She paused. "We have to succeed. No matter what the cost."

"Hold on now," Farrell held up a hand. "Why doesn't anyone want to consider this? We're sending a team onto the Windsor to try and get the captain, right?"

"Yes..."

"And to do that, we're going to need Windsor's remote access code, right?"

"I imagine so..."

"And that code lets us bring down the shields so we can beam people over, right?"

"Yes...."

"So why not just take the ship?"

"For one thing, their crew compliment sorely outnumbers ours. We don't need the Windsor anyway. All we need is the captain. Snatching the captain back is a lot less dangerous and more doable than taking the ship. Once we have him, we just need to escape."

"And how are we going to do that?" Farrell asked. "T'Kal seems to think we can lose ourselves in the armada, and hide in plain sight. But that's not going to work if the Windsor comes rolling in screaming about spies and invaders. The Windsor's going to have to be neutralized somehow. There's no way around that."

"I think the way it's supposed to work, if everything is timed right, is our team goes in and gets the codes, plants the explosives, and signals the Sulu that we're set. Their team nabs the captain, then we all scream through the gate before the Windsor can raise the alarm. Then everything goes boom."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No.... All I know is what I was told to do, and that's arrange this mission."

Farrell cocked his head in thought. "And you're just going to do as you're told?"

"I'm going to arrange this mission to the best of my abilities. I don't think it's possible for us to take the Windsor. If we plan this well, it will work, and we'll all be home and they won't be able to follow us." She regarded him.

"Let me just take the opposite side here for a minute," he said casually. "Let's say, for the moment, that we're this Tebrianne woman--the captain of the Windsor, not the one we've got. And we're holding Salinger. And then he gets stolen back by his loyal crew. What do we do?"

"Probably blow the Sulu out of space," she said. "Assuming it wasn't warping through the gate as the space station blew up in our face."

"Back up," Farrell smiled. "When we arrive at the gateway with a ship captured from our enemy and a prisoner crew to go with it, do we tell anybody?"

"I would imagine so... The Sulu is supposed to be a prize, I suppose..."

"So how do we even launch a ship to get aboard the station?"

"We're going to use the Nightingale. It has stealth technology so we can get in unnoticed."

"How do we open the door?" he pressed.

She just eyed him, knowing there had to be a point somewhere.

"How do we gather at the Nightingale without attracting the goons? How do we neutralize the goons without them alerting the Windsor? How do we keep the Windsor from blowing us to hell the moment we even put this in motion?" Farrell pressed, his voice low, but urgent.

"That's what we're here to work out, isn't it?"

Farrell sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was a suicide run. T'Kal had hatched this plot, and it meant everyone who went wasn't coming back. Damn his misguided samurai honor. There was a reason feudal Japan collapsed. There were other options, but this was what was going to be done. And it scared the hell out of him.

He'd had ideas after speaking to T'Kal, of course, but to hear it again, and to hear Lektar go so blithely along with it all, in spite of the pinpoint timetable, the lack of detail, the abundance of variables, the enemy armada, and the rest, was almost as stunning as hearing T'Kal lay it out the first time. It couldn't be done.

And then his mind shifted again at something Lektar said. Something that made the wheels start rolling again. He looked up. "The Nightingale has stealth technology?" he asked.

She nodded. "It has many capabilities the average runabout doesn't, which is why it's been so closely guarded."

"Like?"

"You should probably contact Commander Zareb for more details," she said. "I don't know the specifics."

"Does Zareb know about this plan?"

"I don't know, I haven't spoken to him."

Farrell sucked his teeth for a moment. "So what's your plan?"

"I think our first step is choosing who will be going on the mission. Obviously, we'll need security for cover, and a demolitions specialist. We need at least one person surgically disguised. I'm going to talk to Tebrianne to see what she can tell me about the Drokari here. We'll also need some reason for showing up at the station in the middle of this gathering armada."

"Alright, let's talk personnel first," Farrell said. "You, Me, T'Kal, if he's around, and. . . " he thought a moment. "Bennett would make a nice Rennari. Finn's solid. Vijay and Zareb to fly the Nightingale. And who else? Who else is in a princess's retinue?"

"T'Kal mentioned Dr. Sefton. Her telepathic abilities could be invaluable to us. And I think Calyca Boothroyd should be our demolitions specialist. Sorg will be useful as well, I think... A Drokari princess seldom brings other females with her, escorts are almost uniformly male for obvious reasons."

"But Doctor Sefton and Boothroyd are both female."

"I'm speaking of other Drokari females. Anyone we disguise will have to be male."

"Ah," Farrell said, understanding. "Do we know if the Rennari of this reality use slaves?"

"Not for certain until I speak to Tebrianne, but I believe it's likely they do."

"How do Rennari typically dress? Lots of color? Half-naked? Does it vary from house to house?"

"It does vary, between Houses, occasions, and personalities. Those of the Royal House always dress the best, of course. Usually in metallic or dark colors, with lots of sparkles to attract attention. I already have several outfits in mind for myself."

"Alright," Farrell nodded. "We can think about that. As it stands, we need details about the Rennari from Bancroft. It's all for nothing if we don't know what we're working from. Do you think you can talk to her sometime today?"

"I plan to meet with her later, yes."

"Good. Find out as much as you can about this reality's Rennari. Tomorrow, same time, to compare notes?"

She nodded. "Very well. I'll contact you."

Farrell watched her walk out of the cargo bay, then exhaled heavily and sat with the lights off for a long time.

---

"Behaviour Patrol"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Amy Reese - Head Nurse
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay and Main Engineering
Stardate 57910.19, 09h35

***

Most of Medical's Alpha Shift staff was visible on the expansive console behind Damhnait Sefton, who was seated in her office. She had advised her staff to remain in the private exam room, which had already been converted into a Medical Lounge, during any duty time in which they had no patients to treat. They would remain on-call in Sickbay, continuing their existing skill-building studies, but by residing in a room just out of Main Sickbay, they would remain out of the Enforcer's direct line of fire. To smoothen the arrangement, Doctor Sefton had left a communications channel open to the lounge -- allowing the Enforcers to watch the staff.

As could be seen on the screen, Ensigns Amy Reese and Cristobel Sefton were sitting at the edge of the table closest to the commscreen. Cristobel looked up from a PADD of schematics, which he claimed were for one of his medical correspondence courses, and told her, "I had this dream last night where I thought I woke up and discovered that I was being watched. Only, it wasn't Enforcers or anyone from the Windsor who was spying on me, it was just some guy I had a class with at the Academy, Luam. I think he dropped out of second year."

"Did he have a crush?" Amy asked with innocent curiousity.

"No, I don't think so," Cris shook his head. "The dream probably wasn't even about him him."

Amy nodded thoughtfully. "Then maybe it's about those guys out there" -- her eyes flicked towards the enforcers without. "Some of them even insist on watching when patients need to...you know...bare it all. The rogues!"

"Maybe using sex as a weapon is the way to be victorious over hurtful weaponry and war," Cristobel said thoughtfully, sticking to the theoretical rather than their particular situation, should they be overheard.

Amy frowned pensively. "So...you want me to seduce them?"

"All thirty? Ow," Cristobel deadpanned.

Damhnait's voice filled the air; "Sefton to Reese and Sefton."

Amy looked to Cris, then shrugged and away. Their combadges chirped simultaneously as they tapped them, and together they replied, "Reese/Sefton here." Amy scowled playfully at Cris.

"You two are going on a patrol to ensure our crew is being treated..." --Damhnait would have said 'well', but knew the best she could hope for was-- "justly. Stick to the engineering hull. Avoid confrontation of any sort."

Cristobel didn't respond. It didn't appear to merely be a choice to avoid competing with Amy's voice again; his eyes were focused intently on a spot on the carpet.

Clearing her throat and nudging him with an elbow, she acknowledged Dr. Sefton. "Right away, Doctor. We're preparing to leave as we speak!"

"Understood. Sefton out."

Cristobel made no response to Amy's nudging or to the claim that they were preparing to leave.

"I'll grab the medkits," Amy announced as she hopped down from the table. "You get the meds." She was halfway to the supply closet when she noticed Cris hadn't budged. Amy turned back quizzically, then marched towards him. "Crissy? What are you waiting for? Dr. Sefton gave us an order."

After a few more moments, Cristobel looked to Amy, tapped an index finger against his temple, and then smirked. "I'm receiving our real orders."

***

Only once they were completely alone in a turbolift, armed with medical kits and medical smocks in the hope of the Enforcers automatically considering them to be non-combatants, Cristobel informed Amy, "We've been instructed to tell the crew that we can get away from the Enforcers once our situation has been appropriately arranged, but that it will never happen if anyone does anything stupid in the name of bravery."

"So...we pretend we're checking for injuries," Amy interpreted, "but meanwhile, we're passing on the word?" She spun around quickly to face Cris and exclaim, "What if they're listening! What if we get caught? I really don't want to get zapped, Crissy."

"If you suspect that someone is listening, you don't say anything. Our whole mission is to tell the crew to behave unless they are contacted by the command staff; it would be somewhat counterproductive for us to get caught causing trouble," Cristobel remarked. "We're playing this safe."

"Safe." Amy exhaled deeply. "Right...I can do that." She grinned and slipped an arm around Cris'. "And with you standing alongside me, there's no way I could screw up!"

The turbolift doors parted to let them strut into the corridor, arm in arm. Tentatively, Cristobel mentioned, "Speaking of alongside, do you think the Suluists would be allowed to perform in the mess hall? To make it seem like everything is normal? Or would that be considered too much freedom?"

"I hear they've allowed it with Captain Tebrianne," Amy noted. "She's even jammed with them." She shrugged. "It shouldn't be a problem...especially if you wanted to rejoin." Amy grinned hopefully.

"That's what I was thinking," Cris replied, smiling softly. "Do you think they'd appreciate a song I wrote, a few months back, called Evil Alternate Universe Twin? Or is that too obvious a song selection?"

Amy snickered and leaned heavily against Cris. "I thought we were supposed to be promoting good behaviour? They'd probably throw a slave collar on you!"

"Maybe I'd look good in a collar," Cristobel quipped, utterly afraid to let on how likely that possibility was. "Do you think they come in brushed chrome? Or with little emerald studs on them?"

"Oh no, no, only leather for you," Amy declared. "Your skin is far too prone to chafing for such harsh material as metal. And maybe," she continued, her voice rising in volume with her enthusiasm, "a leash to go with it! Wouldn't that be darling?"

"Just about," Cristobel agreed, but much softer, to encourage her to do the same. "So, to avoid ending up with the common collar, perhaps we'd be better off singing another song. I wrote one more recently. ...About us." Cris tilted his head and amended, "Sort of."

Amy squinted and one side of her lip quirked upwards in a curious smile. "You did? Is it a happy song...or a not so nice song? Did you write it before or after you fell absolutely in love with me again?" Her grin beamed.

"Angsty song, mostly," Cris admitted with a contrite cringe. "It's called Sound's Not Carrying. But there's always... well, I don't think I've actually written any happy songs. So...there's always... cover songs?"

"They couldn't possibly disapprove of a good cover song," Amy agreed. "Can I sing back-up?" she asked excitedly, and proceeded to give him a sample of her talents, drawing much attention from the sentries flanking the doors to main Engineering.

"Healing harmonics," Cristobel explained to the Enforcers matter-of-factly, with a flash of his medical tricorder. He bit his lower lip to keep from giggling, as he led the way closer to the warp core, and farther from the Windsor personnel. "Female lead vocalist, I'd say," Sefton told Amy without looking at her, so as to not arouse suspicion by whispering sneakily. "Don't Kelli and Tchi already sing back-up?"

"True," she answered slowly. "Maybe you and I can do a duet." Amy smiled hesitantly. "Like old times...we can be a team again."

"Exactly like old times," Cris quietly enthused. "But with less cursing."

Amy nodded with mock seriousness. "Right."

"Hello, Fionn." Sefton snapped into his friendly, but clinical, tone of voice, as Amy and he approached the addressed Ensign Hunter, as well as Ensign Niri Prem and Crewman Sylvia Reece. Beginning a scan with his medical tricorder, Cristobel asked, "Have any of you been mistreated?"

"Agonizer," Hunter admitted glumly. He smirked, then, and held up a finger to wag it at Cris; "But the finger is still good."

Amy giggled scandalously. "For what?" Then shrugged at Hunter's frown of disapproval and set about retrieving a hypo of pain suppressant for the ensign.

"Fionn likes to give me bimonthly updates on his finger ever since I reattached it," Cristobel whispered to Amy.

Amy mouthed an 'Oh' and nodded understanding. "So...did it hurt much?" she asked the lot of them. "I mean, the agonizer thingie. I know from the name it sounds painful but" --Amy squinted inquisitively-- "was it?"

"The agonizer is...indescribable," was all Hunter could come up with after some time of serious thought. "It's unlike any pain inflicted by nature."

Amy smiled consolingly at Fionn and discharged the hypo against his neck. "How does it work?" Amy asked. She moved on to Reece.

"I've heard that it targets the nervous system and just triggers every pain receptor you've got." Reece grinned facetiously at Fionn. "I'm sure he can attest to that." Reese giggled at Reece and gave her a nod to indicate a clean bill of health. "Oh, and it has a stimulant," she went on as Amy joined Cris in assessing Ensign Prem. "No matter how much pain you're in, it keeps you awake to experience every, brutal second of it."

"The word from the red," Cristobel said lowly to the group, with a meaningful tap to the band of blue on his uniform wrist, "is that everyone do everything in their power to avoid any more punishments. Don't become sycophants, but don't be causing any big trouble unless you've heard from a senior officer. And you will be hearing from a senior officer. Make sure everyone knows."

Reece sighed, Prem nodded stiffly, and Fionn appeared more than amenable to the idea considering his latest encounter.

Grinning at Cris, Amy snapped closed her tricorder and stuffed it into her pocket. "Well, carry on," she told the trio with an air of duteous confidence, then strode away to search out the next group of officers.

They nearly scattered when they caught sight of Amy skipping towards them, her pack swinging threateningly as she bounced. She gave Ulag and Hansen a jaunty wave. "Medical check-up!" she announced.

Calmly striding behind Amy, Cris caught up with her, and asked the new pair, "Have either of you been punished? Justly or un?"

"Why?" Ulag asked, his wary gaze on Amy. "Are we about to be?"

Amy snickered and swatted his arm. He flinched. "Silly, it's our job to heal, not inflict suffering."

Ulag and Hansen exchanged dubious looks.

"Just hold still," she told them, "and we'll make sure you're good and healthy."

Ulag sidestepped away from Hansen and made for Cris. Kate scowled at him as she suddenly became an open target for Amy Reese's ministrations.

"He's healthy. They haven't touched him," Cristobel formally reported, trying to hide his smirk at the scientist's reactions behind his tricorder.

"So is she," Amy added.

At Cris' nod of encouragement, Amy motioned for Ulag and Hansen to step in closer. When Ulag hesitated, Amy sighed impatiently and tugged him into place by the sleeve of his jacket. "Now, I want both of you to promise I won't have to pay another visit--" Interrupting her speech, Ulag and Hansen both gave their vow readily. Amy stomped her foot petulantly. "Let me finish!" They rolled their eyes and grudgingly apologized, which seemed to placate Amy. Her grin returned.

"So, the red-necks" --she shot them a suggestive wink-- "said not to get rowdy and walk into any painsticks unless they give the word." Ulag cocked an eyebrow queerly. Amy waved her hands hastily, a physical attempt at erasing her unwisely chosen words. "What I mean," she continued with growing irritation, "is that you are to behave...unless the red-necks tell you not to be," she finished sotto voce and with an exaggerated wink that scrunched up the entire right side of her face.

Ulag and Hansen watched her blankly, then slowly shifted their focus to Cris for interpretation.

"There are plans to fix the ship," Cristobel explained, letting the latter part be loud enough to be overheard, before quietly continuing. "The first stage is for everyone to behave, otherwise we'll never get to the everything-goes-back-to-normal stage. Of course, as always, be prepared to follow orders from senior officers."

"Oh." Ulag chuckled. "Got it now."

"We'll keep our ears open," Hansen put in, and taking a passing Enforcer as their cue, the two casually departed before suspicions were roused.

Amy and Cris remained, the former smiling proudly. "I really think that went well."

Sefton nodded with an enthusiasm proportionate to having only provided medical scans to healthy persons. Thoughtfully, he asked, "Did you ever ever think that sharing gossip would become a part of your duty?"

"No..." Amy giggled and whispered, "But I like it!" Linking arms with Cris, she steered him off towards another section of Engineering, asking, "So, more gossip then?"

"We must," Cristobel deadpanned. "It's our duty."

---

"Deflecting a Summons"
by Captain Tebrianne Bancroft
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
and Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Various Locations, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.19, 11h00

***

One thing Tebrianne Bancroft had always liked about Starfleet starships was the ease with which anyone could be found. She made her way through the corridors of the ship, headed toward the security office where she knew she would find Ben. Hadek was on the bridge, so she felt safe in this meeting with Ben, knowing it wouldn't turn into a game of paranoia or a sparring match against the Enforcer. The news she brought wasn't good at all, but she could think of few ways out of it.

She stepped through the doors of the office and found Ben and an Enforcer alone. The Enforcer was minding his own business, watching down the corridor to the brig with an eye toward the main door as well. He glanced at her and she shot him a scowl before moving toward Ben.

"We've got a slight problem," she whispered, loud enough for only him to hear. "I just got word that T'Briane's making some noise. She wants to see you. She hasn't made the demand yet, but some people who tell me things have spread the word to me. It'll be coming soon."

"So what do I do?" Benedict asked with a raised brow. "Can I avoid it?"

"Best way to avoid it is to not be around when the call comes in," Teb said. "Come on. Grab your guitar and a few padds. We can 'ide out in a holodeck for a bit. Padds so we can keep up on work, guitar because no one should ever go anywhere without a guitar. We can't 'ide forever from 'er, but we can delay it long enough to where you going over to see 'er would be poorly timed."

"How will hiding in a holodeck help?" He frowned. "It's not as if there's anywhere on this ship I can hide. It might also be a means to find out about the Captain...perhaps even to speak to him."

"The Enforcers will be less enthusiastic about disturbing us in there," Teb said. "And, there won't be a whole lot of opportunities to speak with the captain from her bed."

"Oh..." His eyes widened a little and he nodded. "Ahhhh I see...okay then. So we go into a holodeck so that she assumes that you're bedding me instead." He raised a brow at her. "So, I think I should speak to Tayla, and let her know what the situation is...I'd hate her to get the wrong idea and in a fit of jealous rage, do something rash...and she can act impulsively on occasion..." He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. "Sometimes she reminds me of this girl I used to know about five years ago..."

"Oh really," Tebrianne said with an answering grin. "Well, I bet that girl still has a bit of an impulsive side on her. Go on and talk to the commander and let her know what's going on. They're monitoring communications, so careful if you talk to her that way. Once you talk to her, I'll make sure the word is spread among the Enforcers that's where we are."

He nodded. "Holodeck one," he said. "I'll go get my guitar."

"I'll see you there in a few minutes, Ben," Teb said. She gave him a smile, then turned and departed, tossing a nod to the Enforcer on duty as she left. It wouldn't do to ignore them completely.

***

Benedict stepped into a turbo-lift and tapped his commbadge. "T'Kal to Lyrr."

The response was without delay. "Lyrr here. Go ahead, Commander."

"I need to speak to you in quarters, Commander." Ben's voice sounded stern and the summons was direct, as if he was talking to someone beneath him in rank. For what he was about to propose, the ruse was necessary. However he was approaching the whole concept with trepidation. He knew exactly how Tayla was going to react.

The long pause was indication enough of her already rising paranoia. "Alright... I'm on my way."

"T'Kal out." He ended the communication abruptly. It was almost rude.

The lift stopped on deck 3 and Benedict walked briskly to his shared quarters. Once inside he paced the living space, a frown upon his brow. He went to the replicator to make some tea before remembering at the last moment that it wouldn't work for him. He cursed it and resumed pacing, going over his ideas and sorting through priorities.

When the door finally slid aside he turned to look at Tayla as she strode into their room. Her expression was as he'd imagined it would be: harsh and at the same time pensive.

"Okay...so what's so important that you had to pull me away from the bridge?" she asked, hands resting on her hips. "And very rudely, I might add. This had better be very good, Ben."

"It's a bloody nightmare is what it is," he replied as he walked over to her. He smiled, and slipped his arms around her and kissed her fully. A long moment later he parted and said, "I love you...just so you know that...because you're not going to like what I have to tell you. And just so you know, I don't like it either." He stared into her eyes, still holding her to him.

Lyrr sighed deeply, and stroked his upper arms gently, an action meant only to calm herself in preparation. "Well...not a great start," she quipped. "You'd better just tell me, Ben, because this week couldn't get any worse."

"Want to bet?" he asked softly, but he smiled. "It seems that Captain T'Briane has a thing for me. Teb was told earlier that she will be trying to contact me to take me over to the Windsor, and that once I'm there...she has definite plans for my activities." His tone told her what those activities entailed. "If she believes that I'm with you she'll take me, she won't even think about it. If she thinks I'm with Tebrianne...she won't." He waited until the import of that statement sunk in.

"So...what?" Lyrr's mouth pursed tightly in her growing displeasure and her body tensed. "This involves...what, exactly? Will you and she have to...." She regarded him expectantly - rather, impatiently. "Spill it, T'Kal."

"Absolutely not!" he shook his head. "She and I will be doing nothing, but T'Briane has to be convinced that we are. I'll be spending the entire afternoon in a holodeck with Tebrianne so that when the call comes for me I'll be indisposed. The Enforcers will believe that I'm with her, and so she will think so too. But nothing is really going to happen. I just wanted you to know...because when she does call - you'll be on the Bridge and she'll want to speak to you in all likelihood. So if you aren't happy, you can show her how unhappy you are - but don't do anything rash...understand?"

"Rash?" Lyrr chuckled dangerously. "What exactly would you consider 'rash'? Perhaps I should storm in there and drag her out by a fistful of hair?" She shrugged, smiling her sweetest. "Is that the sort of 'rash' you're talking about, dear Benedict?"

"That about describes what I'm talking about." He grinned. "I know you don't like this - I don't either. But it's a choice between staying here and out of that bitch's clutches or being taken by force to her bed. Which is it?"

"And what if she still wishes to have you, Ben, despite the ruse?" Lyrr asked softly. "I've already lost the captain, I'm not losing you, too." Smiling ruefully, she whispered, "How am I going to hold this ship together without you? Just...do what you have to, but please don't make a wrong move. I promise that I won't, either."

He nodded and kissed her softly. "I promise you, my Beloved," he said in Bajoran. "It will be okay. Even without me you can lead this crew back home. If it comes to that, then that's what has to be done."

"No," she told him firmly and in near desperation. Her hands framed his face and the kiss she dealt him was intense, fervent. "I can't do this without you," she whispered against his lips. "Ben...I need you to help me through this. I don't want to get anyone killed - that scares me to death."

"You won't have to, Love," he whispered. "I'll be here. But anything can happen over here, and I want you to promise me that if I am taken...that you'll look after the crew first. You have to promise me that, Tay. Because if they take me - I won't be coming back, and I won't be alive for you to worry about."

"What?" she exclaimed, reflexively jerking free of his hold. "What do you mean you won't be coming back? Ben, don't you dare pull any of that self-sacrifice in the name of honour drivel!" Lyrr sighed unsteadily and rushed into his arms, shoving him a step back. "Don't do it," she whispered. "Please?"

"If it's a choice between me and the ship, Tay - you know what you have to do." He held on to her tightly, kissing the nape of her neck. "I love you, I have to know that you'll do what you have to - even if it means leaving me behind. It has nothing to do with honour, Love. It has everything to do with how much I love you. I have to know you're safe."

"I know," she admitted defeatedly. "I have to put the crew first and that won't be hard...but even the thought of having to leave you behind is." Lyrr held him in silence, nuzzling his throat affectionately and despising the prospect that she might have to give him up for the good of the ship; chuckling weakly, she pulled away. "We'll never get married if things continue to be so dangerous." Glancing up at him, she asked humourously, "You think even this universe opposes our union?"

"I don't give a damn what this universe opposes," he said with a grin. "You'd better make an honest man of me, Lyrr - if you don't marry me when this is over I'm giving up and joining a Bajoran monastery. I mean it!"

Lyrr laughed skeptically, patting his chest in good-humour. "You wouldn't last long there, not with so many pretty women falling at your feet." She smiled tightly, then, and stepped away. "Speaking of which...you should probably go spend some time with your mistress. You have to make the ruse look good, after all."

"True..." he nodded. "I need to change." He stepped toward their bedroom and threw his uniform jacket on the bed as he continued to strip. "You'd better get back to the Bridge. I'll see you after shift." He leaned out and gave her a smile. "I love you."

Lyrr sighed heavily. "Okay. Just...mind your hands and your manners." She was only partially teasing, judging from her tense smile.

There was not another word after she turned to leave, only a roiling sensation in her stomach to match her displeasure at the situation. Ben was required to pretend romantic involvement with Teb...and in the back of Lyrr's mind, she still wondered just how much of their act really would be one.

***

Tebrianne was leaning against the wall outside of Holodeck One. Her command authorization had reactivated it, and she'd started up a program running inside. There were so many choices that it'd been difficult to finally come up with a vast meadow overlooking a range of mountains. It would be a nice out-of-doors location that would allow them to both relax and work, and if anyone checked, could possibly be the romantic locale that would keep T'Briane at bay for a few hours.

Benedict turned the corner of the corridor dressed in more casual clothing and carrying a guitar by its neck. Tebrianne recognized it as the same instrument that had been with him for as long as she'd known him. His hair was loose and it fell in a long raven cloak over his shoulders. He wore a Bajoran earring in his right ear, black T-shirt with the Punk-Brats Tour emblazoned upon its front and black jeans and boots. The T-shirt was sleeveless and it displayed the hard musculature of his arms as he moved. His handsome face wore a slight smile for appearances sake, and his eyes were an intense violet.

He nodded as he stopped before Tebrianne. He was feeling anxiety over spending a few hours alone with her while they were supposed to be busy. "Shall we?" he asked, indicating the holodeck.

"We shall," Teb said as she pressed the door activator. The heavy holodeck doors slid aside to reveal a meadow that seemed to stretch off forever. "At first, I thought of just a pub, but then I thought of here. If you have any ideas, we can change the program. I hope it's alright. I just...I couldn't think of anywhere that wouldn't...that wouldn't be too much."

He looked in and smiled. "It'll do," he said and stepped inside, his boots crushing the long grass. His hair stirred with the breeze and the faint scent of pine and wild flowers assailed him. He took a deep breath of the falsely fresh air, and walked a few more paces toward a widely limbed tree that stood in the lee of the gently sloping hill. The ground under the shady branches was leaf strewn and crunched under his boots. "How about a blanket?" he asked, motioning to the space between two gnarled roots that divided the ground. He sat down on one and propped his guitar against the tree, leaning back himself.

Teb grinned. "Computer, a blanket," she called out. A neatly folded blanket shimmered into existence between them. She picked it up and laid it out between the roots Ben had indicated. Making sure her guitar was safely out of the way, she sat on the blanket and gazed out into the distance. "It's been so long since I was in an 'olodeck. It's so easy to forget all the trouble out there when you're inside and everything looks so peaceful."

"Too easy," he agreed. Seeing her smiling up at him tugged at his memories, and her dark eyes still had the exotic, sultry quality they always had. She was a beautiful woman now; the five years had enriched her with a full bodied maturity. "I can't forget about the situation we're in, or the one in which Captain Salinger finds himself. If we're going to carry this off, I suppose I'll have to make everyone believe that we are together again. Tayla isn't happy about it - but I didn't expect her to be. Just as long at T'Briane is convinced. I do not wish to be taken to the Windsor. I can imagine just what an evil you might have in mind."

"I imagine she's thought up a few things I haven't even thought of," Teb said as she gazed up at him. "I don't want you to go to her either, Ben. I know I can't have you again, and I guess the jealous part of me doesn't want 'er to either. I'll do whatever I can to keep you from 'aving to go, even if it means keeping you locked away in 'ere with me. We'll 'ave to go out eventually, and work...but I don't want you going over there. And, I don't think Tayla would either." She sighed and stretched out. "I've been talking to people, putting things in motion. When the time's right, I think we've got a good shot at breaking free."

"So do I," he nodded. "It's not the Enforcers here that worry me, it's the Windsor. We need to get away from her. What's the chances of doing that once we reach this Gate? Taking the ship back is one thing. Getting home...that's the difficult part. We'll need to know everything we can about this Gate and if we can't go home...then we'll do our damnedest to destroy it and make sure they can't use it. Even if we have to sacrifice the Sulu to do it. When it comes time...I want you on helm. I've never seen a better pilot than you, Teb. It might make the difference."

"I think once we're there, we'll have a little more freedom. The entire fleet will be there, so it'll be easier to get some distance. We'll have to time everything so closely though. I think we can do it, and I'd love to take the helm. I've had a chance to pilot the Windsor a few times, and it's nice, but nothing like an Intrepid. We can make this work, Ben. I know we can."

"We'd better!" he gave her a grim smile. "How do we get through the gate?"

"It will be tricky, but we'll have to get a team aboard the station. From there, they can get the codes we need. Then it's just a matter of slipping through and making the gate non-functional on the way through. I believe if we plant some explosives within the fusion reactor and we time it right, we can slip through just before it goes. We make it through, and they can't use it again. We'll need to get a team on-board, and I've been thinking about that. It'll be risky, but I think we can do it if we're careful."

"We have the TAC Team for the snatch on the Windsor. If we can overpower the Enforcers here, take their armour and rescue Salinger while a team is away at the station...but we need a ruse of some kind. How can we get a team to the station - surely it will be heavily guarded?" He shook his head. "Guile will have to replace brawn. We have to come up with something to get the team to the station."

"In this galaxy, the Drokari are rather revered," Tebrianne said as she picked up her guitar. "Especially their royalty."

"Shirik?" he asked and then nodded. "That's why Hadek wanted her, isn't it? Because over here she's important. I'll make sure she passes that along. Maybe someone like Farrell can think of something suitably underhanded for this situation." He picked up his own instrument, tuning it by ear for a few moments.

"Exactly," Teb said. "I'm sure 'e knew, but I think it's also that 'e's a pig who'd force her to his bed and then brag it around." She started playing a song, softly. "I really 'ate this place, Ben. I'm...you have no idea how good it is to know I get to go 'ome soon."

His fingers started a counter point to her music, seeming to flow into it automatically, picking up on each other's technique. They'd played together so often, so much in tune with each other that it was natural that it begin as it had been. His lips curled into a smile as they played and started to react to each other's notes, turning the music fluid and enveloping them both in another world five years and a dimension away.

Then he turned it back and his fingers plucked the notes of an old, old song that he'd played for her on their very first date. A blind date arranged for them so long ago - when he'd been too embarrassed to meet the young and brash helm officer of the Galaxy. His clear soft voice started the lyrics of Stairway to Heaven and she played along, and for a moment they were taken back.

With each chord, Tebrianne felt the pain of loss more strongly. With each note, the reality of the situation with Ben, the realization that the past was gone and the future was bleak, seemed so much more real. But through all of that, sitting together as they had so often, playing together as if they hadn't been apart for five years, it filled her with a joy and happiness that had been so absent from her life that its return was almost painful. She watched him as she played, felt his voice entering her soul, bolstering her, and renewing the life she'd left behind. She wasn't vindictive or cruel, but she wanted that life back. But, how could she fight to get Benedict back into her life when he'd given himself so fully to Lyrr Tayla?

The tears brimmed in her eyes as she played and she tried to blink them away. How could everything have gone so wrong? And why did it suddenly have to feel so very right?

As the song ended, she couldn't help reaching out and brushing a hand over his knee, her eyes focused on his face. She was smiling, happy, and feeling more hopeful than she'd been for over five years.

He looked across at her and laid his hand upon hers. He was feeling the same pain, and yet her eyes were shining and she seemed happy. He squeezed her hand, not knowing any words to say and he looked away at the distant holographic mountains. He set his guitar aside and slid down into the crux of the two gnarled roots and pulled her into his arms. There were no words he could say, but he knew that they shared so much. So he held her and pulled her cheek against his chest, running a hand through her hair as he'd done so many times in the past, and stared at the distance lost in a world of regret.

Tebrianne closed her eyes as she let Ben hold her. She knew she could take care of herself, knew that she had the skill and competence to do so many things, but in his arms she felt so completely safe. She let her guitar slide aside and she slipped her arms around him, holding him as closely as she could. She could feel and hear the beating of his heart as they sat there together. "I've missed this," she finally murmured.

"Me too, Love," he whispered, as he stroked her hair. Once again his memory threw visions at him. Laying in each other's arms, naked and bathed in sweat from making love. He felt the keenness of their loss, knowing that they would never be truly together. The ache of it was almost overwhelming. He loved her but at the same time he was afraid of her; afraid of the meshing of minds and subjugation of will. Even the thought of it brought a chill, but he let it pass like a cold breeze and stared out at the grass as it bent in the rippling wind. They were still on a Holodeck, trying to avoid being summoned to the Windsor and the waiting arms of another Tebrianne - her Evil Alternate Universe Twin. He wondered again why life had to be so complicated.

After several long minutes, Tebrianne looked up into his eyes and smiled. "I can't believe you still have a Brats shirt. It suits you, you know."

"I replicated it after your last gig. Remember? The one you sneaked away to do without telling me?" He smirked. "I got a holodeck program of it. I used to take one of the guitar spots in the band." He shrugged. "Been a long time since I played that one."

"I remember," she said fondly. "I miss that life. Touring, playing, doing nothing but singing my guts out. And, I miss our life. Sneaking off like that was stupid. If I could go back and do it over, I'd bring you with me. And, you would have been in the front row, and I would have dedicated every song to you. 'ell, I would have brought you up on the stage and 'ad you right next to me the entire time, singing my guts out for you."

Her admission tore at him. "I would have gladly gone," he said, wiping his eye with one hand. "Prophets, girl, why does life have to be so damned cruel? All I ever wanted was what we had. I would have been happy with that, apart from having a family. I wanted you to be the mother of my child, but that was impossible. Now... I have a son somewhere I never knew, and never will."

"I wasn't ready to be a mother then," Teb said softly. "I'm not sure if I am now, but I can see myself as a mother. I don't know if there are any procedures, but medical science can work wonders. Not that it'd help us now." Her eyes filled with tears and her voice became tremulous as she clung to him. "I wish it were possible to go back. I'd give anything, Ben."

His arms tightened around her and he just held her in silence. It was no good hunting for wishes. They'd been granted one once, but like all things too good to be true they had been twisted. "We can't go back, Love," he said after a while. "We just can't...I can't say that I'd want to...not now. Not with Tayla."

"No," Teb whispered. "You've got 'er now. When we get back, maybe I can find another ship. She 'ates me, and if I tried to stay on the Sulu, she'd make every single day a living 'ell for me. If it wasn't making certain I knew you were 'ers, it'd be trying to tear me down for wanting even a little piece of you to myself, even as a friend. It wouldn't ever work out. And, every time I looked at you, it'd strike into my heart. Daily reminders of what I 'ad and lost-- No, not lost. I 'ad and it was ripped away from me, and I never even 'ad a chance to try to hold on."

It was unfair. She was right. She'd been torn away from him and neither one of them had had any chance of fighting it. She was also right about Tayla. He loved her, but she could be so difficult. Talking to her about Teb probably wouldn't do any good at all. She would be paranoid and jealous, and it was those qualities that had surfaced in her that he didn't particularly like. Benedict had never been a jealous person. He couldn't really understand the motivation himself. He should be able to be friends with Tebrianne, and she should be able to stay with the Sulu, but Benedict realized that Lyrr Tayla would never be comfortable with that, and he felt a twinge of resentment for that. She would hold onto him and never let anyone come close for fear of losing him, although she would fail to understand that that in itself would drive a wedge between them. If she fully trusted him, she should have no fear of losing him. But she didn't. Of course, she'd say that she trusted him, it was the others that she couldn't trust. It was entirely unfair and he held Tebrianne to him, not really wanting her to go anywhere. Benedict loved her, so why did she have to go?

"I don't want you to leave," he said almost too softly to hear. "I don't think I want to lose you again."

Tebrianne pressed her face against his chest, holding tightly and never wanting to let go. "I say the words," she whispered, then looked up into his eyes, "but I don't think I could bring myself to go. I don't want to lose you again, Ben. I know we can never go back, but I don't think I could willingly ever...I couldn't. I love you."

He searched her eyes and knew it to be the truth. His violet eyes welled with tears, and he held her cheeks between his hands. "I love you too," he whispered. "Prophets...." His eyes roamed her face, the curves and contours long ago memorised yet still familiar to sight and touch. He knew her face so well that he had painted it perfectly, he had perhaps a hundred sketches of her. No matter how hard he tried, she could simply look at him and walk straight through his defences. He closed his eyes and felt the tears run down his cheeks, torn between love and fear. He still feared her melding, and he loved Tayla. He felt as if he was losing his mind. He was helpless and all his resolve, all his devotion to Tayla everything he'd said and promised was being eroded by the look in her eyes and those three words. He despised himself then.

Tebrianne closed her eyes, kissed his palms as they held her face, and then slipped back into his embrace once more. Somehow, she had to figure a way to make this new life work. There was no going back to the old, and she didn't know where she'd fit into Ben's life now. But she knew she needed a place there, and she felt that he needed her there too. They'd have to figure some way to make it work. They had to.

She looked up at him, now gazing off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. She moved up onto her knees and faced him. She knew she shouldn't, knew it was a bad idea, but she couldn't stop herself. She cupped his face in her hands, gazing into his face, into his eyes, every feature exactly as she remembered. And, then she tried to kiss him.

He turned away, anguish clear in his violet eyes. He despised himself for the weakness of wanting to kiss her, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt Tayla like that. He felt the trembling in his body, the ache of wanting Tebrianne so desperately, the desire to kiss her, make love to her; it welled up in him so powerfully that it scared him. He choked out a single, "no," before struggling to breathe, and pulling her into an embrace that avoided her lips and her hurt expression. "I can't, Teb...please don't...my word is the only thing I have left... I don't know what to do, but I won't dishonor Tayla or myself...or you." He remembered a time a long time ago...and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. "I'm not Deiran, you know I can't do that."

"No, Ben," Tebrianne said softly. "You're far better than Deiran could ever hope to be. I'm sorry...I couldn't...I shouldn't have... I'm sorry." She let him hold her, and held him back just as tightly, as if to let go would lose him forever.

---

"Setting the Ruse"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
"Captain" Tebrianne Bancroft
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Captain T'briane

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.19, 12h30

***

The stars streaming past on the forward viewer winked out and were replaced by the face of T'Briane. The resemblance to Tebrianne was uncanny, but if one looked close, the subtle differences could be spotted. T'Briane's eyes were harder, and there was a cruel twist to her smile. In Tebrianne, there was an unquenchable light that shone in her eyes, a passion for life and living. In the mirror version, there was passion but of a much darker variety.

"Commander Lyrr," she said, her lips curling into a sneering smile. "I hope everything is in order. Your people are behaving themselves. It means they get to live for a little longer. Now, there is an officer aboard your ship I need to have beamed over. Please have him report to one of your transporter rooms."

Lyrr shifted imperceptibly in her seat, struck with an inkling of just who T'briane had in mind. She'd been dreading this. "Which officer is it, then?" she asked calmly. "And for what purpose?"

"Benedict T'Kal," T'Briane said. "And, my reasons are my own."

Lyrr's features remained neutral, but within she was prepared to lash out at the woman. "Our head of security? He's far too valuable to us. Perhaps another?"

"No," T'Briane said. "I wish to see him specifically. Don't worry, in his absence Senior Lieutenant Hadek will suffice for your security needs. And, I won't keep him from his duties for too very long. Now, where is Mr. T'Kal?"

Lyrr shrugged. "Perhaps you should ask Captain Bancroft that question. She's been spending quite a bit of time with him lately."

"Oh, she 'as, 'as she?" T'Briane mused. "I had a feeling that might be the case. Some of the stories she tells of their past together...quite steamy, to be sure. So then, where is Tebrianne?"

"Last I checked, she was in the Holodeck 1," Lyrr answered and smirked while adding, "with Lieutenant Commander T'Kal."

"'ow quaint," T'Briane snarled. "Well, when she's finished with 'im, have 'er contact me. I'm going to need to 'ave a few words with Captain Bancroft."

Lyrr smiled falsely. "As you wish, Captain."

Without another word, T'Briane vanished from the screen and once again the view showed the starry void of subspace.

There was a muttered curse under Lyrr's breath before she shot up from her chair. She tapped her commbadge as she marched to the ready room. "Commander Lyrr to Captain Bancroft," she called, and once within the Ready Room: "I think we need to speak...and bring Ben with you."

There was a brief hesitation, then Tebrianne's voice emerged from the comm. "On our way."

***

They arrived on the bridge, still dressed in the clothes they'd been wearing on the holodeck, still with their guitars. Without preamble, Tebrianne and Benedict crossed the distance to the Ready Room and entered without a word.

Tebrianne raised an eyebrow when she saw Lyrr within the Ready Room. "What's 'appened?"

Lyrr paid little attention to the sight of them, though it took much effort, and remained where she was, leaning against the edge of Matt's desk. "What's happened is your Captain T'Briane contacted me." Her gaze shifted to Ben. "She wishes the pleasure of your company."

"And?" Benedict asked pointedly. "She's not getting what she wants...what did you say to her?"

"I just told her the truth," Lyrr answered, allowing her gaze to linger on his before expanding, "I said that you two were together...and alluded strongly to the fact that Ms. Bancroft has claimed you."

"Alluded?" Benedict asked. "How strongly did you allude?" He pointed to Lyrr's wrist. "The woman isn't stupid, she'd know what that bracelet means as well as Teb here does. How upset about it were you?"

"It doesn't matter," Lyrr told him irritably. "She was angry and she seemed intent on discussing the matter with Ms. Bancroft. Does that not suffice?"

"When I told you to be upset but don't be rash...did you understand what I was saying, Tay? That my Betrothed alluded to me being claimed by another woman.... She has to believe it, Tay. I hope she believed it. I hope you were convincing."

"If you aren't happy with my performance," Lyrr said between clenched teeth, "then do it yourself next time."

Benedict covered his face with both hands and wiped hard at his eyes. He knew Tayla would fight everything every step of the way and if she kept it up she'd blow everything.

"Well, as long as she's buying it for now," Tebrianne said, as she moved to sit in one of the chairs. "And, it keeps Ben out of T'Briane's bed."

Lyrr chuckled dryly and folded her arms across her chest while studying the woman. "No, it sounded more like she wanted to speak with you to tear Ben from your grasp. She isn't settling - I could tell."

"So she didn't buy it, and the next time she talks to me, she's going to demand that I 'ave Ben transported over to the Windsor. And, when 'e gets there, 'e'll be taken to her bed, where she'll 'ave her way with him as much as she can for as long as 'e'll last."

"Great..." Benedict muttered as he stared out the view port away from the two women. The two women he loved. Prophets!

"So, what are you saying?" Lyrr snapped. "I messed up? Is that it? If you are, then you've only yourself to blame. You should have been on that bridge to declare your claim on Ben to her! This is hard for me, and I can't help it if I don't make a convincing case for your fabricated affair."

"Fine," Teb said. "When I contact 'er, I'll need to have Ben there, and we'll have to convince 'er that he's mine, and regardless of her position, she can't 'ave him."

Benedict turned to look at her with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes flicked to Lyrr.

She shrugged stubbornly. "Fine, then that's what will have to be done, and if you hadn't been holed up in the Holodeck, it would have been by now."

"Whatever works to keep Ben out of 'er bed," Teb said. She looked to him, then looked away. "That's what matters."

Benedict nodded and sighed. He looked from Teb to Tayla with a scowl.

"Exactly," Lyrr concurred coolly.

"So how do we do this?" he asked, looking between the two. "I feel like the rope in a tug of war, split three ways here!" He stepped closer to the desk and sat on its edge. "Look, both of you" --he looked at Tayla meaningfully-- "we have to talk openly about this, or we'll tear each other apart and we'll lose this ship, we'll lose everything. We can't help circumstances, and I can't change history. The truth is that I love both of you." He stared hard at Tayla. "But I'm marrying you, Lyrr Tayla. You can either trust me on that or not. Personally I wouldn't want to lose either of you, but endanger this crew and this ship over petty jealousy and the fact that you can't work together and I won't be with either of you." He looked between the two. Like the two halves of his heart.

"There's no reason we can't work together, and share each other's lives in peace without this stupid bickering," he looked at Tayla. "It's ridiculous. You seem more worried about me than the fate of the captain and the crew! I wish I could say that everything is clear cut...but I was Betrothed to Tebrianne before I met you. We are not going to destroy each other because you can't cope with someone else loving me. We have no option but to get used to it. After we get out of here, Tebrianne isn't going anywhere - she's staying on the Sulu. Don't even think of giving her a hard time because you're jealous."

Lyrr chuckled wryly. "I can't believe you'd even accuse me of trying that," she hissed and pushed away from the desk to stand eye-level before him. "You talk of honour and respect...and accusing me of an unprofessional act such as discriminating against a crew member - no matter the circumstances! - is the most dishonourable thing you've ever said to me." She lowered her eyes briefly to conceal the disappointment, then again regarded him neutrally. "If I don't particularly like Ms. Bancroft, it is only because of the situation we're in. If I need to hate her because she has designs on my fiancé, I can do that off-duty and I can do so without constantly being admonished by you. I don't have to like anyone, especially not her. She's your lover, Ben," Lyrr finished, "not mine."

She turned to walk away but Benedict gripped her arm. "Tayla, every thing you've done and said so far has been filled with animosity. Tebrianne and I were lovers," he said gently. "I don't accuse you of unprofessionalism - I'm simply trying to get to a point where we all face the truth and start to work together." He looked into her eyes. "I love you, Tayla, this is hard on all of us. Think about what Teb's been through.... She was murdered as far as I'd known, but found herself here...and for five years she's been alone, afraid, and desperate to get back home. Please, Tay. She's no threat to us...she hasn't done you any harm except for loving me. This is important to me, Tay." His grip on her arm softened, but he didn't let her go. "We have to convince T'Briane that I am with Tebrianne. That's the only thing that will keep me here. If that woman thinks I belong to you...she'll just take me and she just might order you killed. She doesn't respect you. She'll just treat you like another piece of property." He looked at Tebrianne and back to Lyrr, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "She's Teb's twin in this universe, that's the only reason she respects Teb. She won't deny Tebrianne's claim on me - but she will deny yours."

Lyrr extricated her arm from his hold and stepped away, saying, "We'll see about that." Next, she was stalking towards the door, and weaving around Teb to get to it instead of shouldering past her as Lyrr's urges dictated. Lyrr shouted back, "I'll be on the bridge if you wish to carry on with this ruse." The doors seemed to snap shut behind her.

Tebrianne nearly threw up her arms. "Why is she so bloody impossible? I've been trying to get along with her, trying to work with her.... Whether she can't see past my association with the Windsor or my past with you, I don't know...but I really wish she'd open her eyes and try to see where I'm really standing."

"She's afraid," he said softly. He turned to look at Tebrianne. "She's afraid of losing me to you."

"She should try standing in my boots for a turn," Tebrianne muttered. "If she's not careful, her fear's going to do more 'arm than good. I'm sorry I've caused all this, Ben. I never meant to hurt you or make trouble. I really hope she can get through this, or it bloody is going to be just like I said. I 'ope she can at least learn to tolerate me."

He just nodded. She was right. Tayla's paranoia and fear would bring ruin if she didn't rein it in. Benedict couldn't see her being able to do that. He had a sinking feeling that he would be headed over to the Windsor.

"Sam," Lyrr called, now standing in the center of the bridge and watching the viewscreen with hard eyes. "Hail the Windsor."

"Aye, Commander," Sam said, and opened a channel to the other ship.

A moment later, T'Briane's face reappeared on the viewscreen. "Commander Lyrr," she said with a cruel smile. "Have you found Tebrianne and her lover for me?"

"Yes," Lyrr replied forcefully. "But I'm afraid I cannot remand him to your custody." If Ben wanted a near tantrum, he would have one, Lyrr declared.

"Oh?" T'Briane's eyes narrowed. "And why might that be?"

Lyrr smirked as she raised her right arm and pulled back the sleeve, exposing Ben's betrothal bracelet. "He's mine," she stated fiercely. "And although Ms. Bancroft has claimed him for herself" --the Ready Room doors swooshed open and Lyrr heard halted footsteps leading away from them-- "I don't plan on letting the matter settle that easily." She glanced aside at Ben and Teb, and bowed her head, though her eyes remained on Teb. "I challenge Ms. Bancroft's claim," she continued, "so you'll just have to wait in line."

T'Briane gave an amused smirk. "Oh really? Well, while I'm not accustomed to waiting in line, perhaps for this I'll be willing to make an exception." She laughed then. "You'll have to keep me apprised of the details."

"When he's once again mine," Lyrr promised with a feral smile, "I'll definitely let you know."

"Oh, confidence," T'Briane crooned. "You'll certainly need it, Commander. Especially against that one. The stories she's told me..."

Lyrr shrugged eloquently. "You haven't heard mine yet. Perhaps after I prevail...." She tipped her head at the woman. "I'll be in touch, Captain."

Without another word, the screen went blank and T'Briane was gone, though the look of pure amusement still lingered.

Striding towards her seat, Lyrr passed Teb and Ben on the way, and muttered, "Happy?"

Benedict just shook his head in defeat. Now Tebrianne would be expected to hurt Tayla, and there was nothing that could be done about it. He felt like a prize in some kind of bizarre contest.

Tebrianne looked at Ben, and sighed. Without a word, she moved to the center chair on the bridge and took a seat. She could only hope this would all be over soon.

---

"Gauging Loyalties"
Ensign Shirik Lektar
'Captain' Tebrianne Bancroft

Location: Arboretum, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.19, 16h10

***

The ship was thankfully quiet, though the tensions hadn't depleted as the crew went about their regular routines. The crew wanted their ship back, wanted to get out from under the boot of the Enforcers, and wanted to get home. Tebrianne Bancroft wanted to hope that they could trust her long enough to get them to the Gate, to get them through the Gate. With Lyrr at the head of it though, she doubted there would ever be trust. If the crew revolted and tried to take the ship back, she'd be cut down as quickly as any of the Enforcers...and most likely by Lyrr. One on one, Teb knew she could hold her own. If chaos broke out though, she knew how easy it was for defenses to be breached. During mad chaos, she knew everything she'd been doing to get the ship home, to get the crew home, to finally get home herself, would be undone.

And, she'd do everything in her power to keep that from happening.

As she walked, she happened to look up in time to see a figure in the distance disappearing through the doors into the arboretum. It wasn't too difficult to tell who it was, with dark skin and white hair. Shirik Lektar. She would be a key in the upcoming plans, and she figured Hadek still had some designs on the Drokari woman. Tebrianne hadn't planned on going into the arboretum now, but perhaps a detour wouldn't be a bad idea.

She strode forward and through the doors of the arboretum, and was immediately hit with the scents and smells of home. Well it was sort of home, at any rate. She'd been places where these smells were present, and it all reminded her of the life that had been torn away five long years ago.

The room was in night mode, even though by ship's time it shouldn't yet be dark. There was a pale sliver of moon in the artificial sky, and the faint light from the stars overhead.

Tebrianne looked around, and finally spotted the reason she'd entered. Shirik was at the entrance to a cave, which had a green light emanating from it. As her heavy boots sounded her approach, she overheard Shirik say, "Computer, turn off tasmos growing lamp." The green light winked out.

Shirik looked up, instantly alert as she heard someone approaching. Her only reaction to who it was was an arched eyebrow.

"Shirik," she asked, then continued. "I just wanted to check and make certain everything was still alright with you, as far as the situation with 'adek went. I gave 'im the order to back off, but sometimes orders aren't followed."

"I'm fine for the time being," she said. "I've been doing my best to avoid him." Her violet eyes were guarded as she studied the woman before her intently.

"Not a bad idea," Tebrianne said with a nod. "I think that's one of the best ways to avoid problems with the Enforcers. It doesn't take much to provoke many of them, and even less with some. I just 'ope this can all be over soon."

"Indeed, I think we all do," she said. "Since you're here, there are some things I wanted to discuss with you, if you have some free time."

Tebrianne nodded, and moved to sit. "Sure," she said. "I do 'ave some free time, actually. Ask away."

Shirik moved to join her on the nearby bench, facing the door so she could keep an eye on anyone that might wander in. "Commander T'Kal tells me that you can be trusted...and I want to believe that. I trust him, and his judgement, but I also know the past he shares with you." Her eyes continued to study Tebrianne as if by looking alone she could tell where her loyalties lay. "All our lives may depend on that, so I need to know for sure, for myself."

"I'm a Federation citizen," Tebrianne said. "And, I'm a Starfleet Officer. Because of the situation on the ship, I can't openly declare my loyalties. I've been trapped here for five years. I've done things I'm not proud of, but I've survived...survived with the hope that someday I would get back to my own people, to my own Federation..." She looked away, studying the foliage in the distance. "And, back to Ben. It hasn't quite worked out the way I'd hoped, but I want to go home. I hate this place, and everything about it. I just want to get out. I don't know if that's enough of an assurance, and I don't know how I can prove myself other than that. But, I just want to go home."

Shirik studied her as she talked, and finally nodded slowly. "Very well... You are no doubt aware of the mission I'm to go on. I need information from you about the Drokari of this universe. Have you actually seen any yourself? What can you tell me about them?"

"I 'aven't met them myself," Teb answered. "They're a power though, and a strong ally to the Empire. At least, the Empire wants to believe so. They're still in the process of trying to solidify an alliance. From what I understand, they're very similar here to the Romulans in our own galaxy. Big, strong, powerful...and very paranoid. The Empire knows that an alliance would be a great boon for them, but I think the Drokari are 'olding out for more out of the deal. I think they're 'oping to have more control and power out of the deal, almost like a partnership." She thought about it. "I might be able to grab some information from the Windsor if that will 'elp you."

"Anything you can get me will help, especially any information specific to the royal family. I know nothing about my counterpart here, and if I overlook something that should be common knowledge, it could be fatal."

"I'll get as much information as I can," Teb said. "It might be a little tricky. I don't want to raise any alarms. I'll try to have something for you within a few hours, if that's acceptable."

"That's fine. Can you tell me anything more about the station? I'm told it's laid out like DS9 back home, but are there differences that we should be aware of?"

"It's called Ashak Nor," Teb said. "The layout is pretty much exact to Deep Space Nine. Ops will be in the same place, the fusion reactors as well. The only differences will be cosmetic, and even so I imagine it would look like Terok Nor before the Federation took over managing the station. The technology is nearly exact. The Bajorans stole it from the Cardassians a number of years ago, and 'ave been passing it off as their own ever since."

Shirik nodded. "One thing I'm unclear on is why they trust you so much. Enough to put you in charge of this ship, knowing that you're from our universe. T'Briane can't be that big of a fool."

"In the five years I've spent here," Tebrianne said, "I've been very convincing. She's not a fool, but...but I've been very loyal, and that's where the trust comes from. I wouldn't be surprised if she isn't concerned, but I also don't believe she expects us to do what we're going to do. My loyalties will be questioned, I'm certain. But I'm just hoping that won't happen until we're close enough. It may all fail, it may not. This is still our best chance."

"I think we should be prepared for the possibility of her anticipating an uprising from us. In her shoes, I know I would be fully expecting one. And I wouldn't be trusting you as far as I could throw you. So be careful and watch your back."

"That was the first lesson I learned when I arrived 'ere," Tebrianne answered. "I believe you are in a different position than she is, however. I'm speaking to you openly of my betrayal. In the last five years, I have proven my loyalty to T'Briane and her ship 'undreds of times. She believes me completely loyal to her. Perhaps she does doubt me, but in the end...my time here will be firmly in her mind. I'll be careful though...and 'opefully I won't be forced to do anything to betray myself. My greatest fear is that Commander Lyrr will force me into doing something that will show everyone where my loyalties truly lie. If that's revealed, then our chances diminish greatly. I won't say I'm our only hope, but I'm the best chance we've got at the moment."

"You wouldn't have to be speaking to me of it," she said. "I'd be fully expecting a betrayal from someone from another universe completely different from my own, who is given the chance to interact with people from her own universe once more. Especially knowing her relationship with one of the people on board that ship. To me that seems obvious. I'm also wondering just how much about our universe they know. How much they got from you."

"It's safe to assume what I know, they've 'ad access too," Tebrianne said. Her eyes were suddenly guarded and it was obvious the subject was going down a path that troubled her. "They have devices developed by the Romulans here, and improved by the Vulcans. You may be right, and she may be watching me. I'll need to be careful, and I should be more cruel. I'll possibly need to spend some time convincing 'er. All we need is to get to the Gate."

Shirik saw the change in her eyes. "I'm sorry to have to bring up painful subjects," she said. "But someone has to be thinking of these things, and the more paranoid and prepared we are, the better our chances. Once we arrive, what will happen? What do they plan to do with our ship and crew? Will we have time to execute our plans?"

"The plan calls for us to get in line, essentially. We'll be meeting with the fleet. We'll be one of many, at that point it'll be easier to get lost in the crowd, especially for a small ship like a shuttle or runabout. A team pops out, and slips over to the station under a cover story. The trickiest part will be in making the break for the Gate. If we can catch them unaware, we've got a chance. We'll 'ave time...it's just a matter of making ourselves as quiet as little mice when we go after the cheese."

"I have to be honest...it sounds like a longshot at best. But it's the only shot we have. I know our people will all do whatever it takes."

"We're Starfleet officers," Teb said. "I wouldn't expect anything less. You're right, it's the only chance we have. And, it's the chance to stop their invasion. It's our duty to stop that to protect the Federation."

She nodded. "You realize destroying the gate has to take priority... even if it means we don't get home."

"Of course," Tebrianne said. "But if we can get back, we will. If not, we're not making it out against an entire fleet. But, we'll take down the Gate and as many of them as possible."

Shirik nodded. "We will," she said. She paused, then said, "Did you have anything you wanted to ask me?"

"It's off the topic and more of a gossiping nature," Tebrianne said as she picked at the seam of one of her pant legs. "'ow long 'ave they been together? Commander Lyrr and Ben, I mean."

It wasn't Shirik's favorite topic, but she answered. "Three months, roughly." Not all that long, really, but somehow the last three months seemed like a lifetime to her.

Tebrianne nodded, and Ben's words echoed in her mind. It's in the cargo bay now...I put it away...about three months ago. When I knew that I had to move on. She took a deep breath and let it out. "It's ironic. That he found me again, after five years...three months too late. I've always thought that this place, this universe, was cruel. The reality is just that life itself is cruel."

For a moment Shirik couldn't say anything. Then she nodded slowly. "Indeed," she agreed quietly.

Teb shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm usually not this morose. I feel like I've woken up after a really long sleep, and while I was sleeping all of life moved on. I remember it as it was, as if it were yesterday, but it's all different and changed now. It'll take some getting used to. I've never 'ad to start over before."

"No need to apologize," she said. "You have every right to be. I don't know what I'd do in your place."

She looked up at Shirik. "There's a part of me that wants to fight, do everything I can to get him back. But, 'e's with her now...'ow could I ever hurt him in that way? It would be selfish of me...but then 'e looks at me, and I see it there in his eyes, and..." Tebrianne shrugged. "It's not fair."

Shirik looked away at that so Tebrianne wouldn't see the look in her own eyes. "I know," she said quietly.

"I should probably get back," Tebrianne finally said. "I'll get you that information. I can pass it off to you on the bridge, or the next time I see you."

Shirik nodded, bring her gaze back around to Tebrianne once more. "Thank you." she said, her expression carefully neutral once more. "I expect to be in my quarters the rest of this evening, and back on the bridge in the morning."

"I'll pass the information off to you tomorrow morning then," Tebrianne said. "Thank you for the chat. It's nice to 'ave someone to talk to who seems to believe what I'm saying."

"I believe you want to go home, and will help us to that end."

"Well, that's a start," Tebrianne said. "I'll see you with that information tomorrow."

---

"Patient Zero"
By: Lt. Commander Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Astrometrics
Ensign Alexia Johnstone - Medical Officer

Location: Sickbay and the Druschev Quarters
Stardate: 57910.19, 16h12

***

Natalia Druschev stepped into Sickbay and haughtily paid no particular attention to the two red armoured Enforcers, though they did look her up and down appreciably. The one-piece uniform fit her curvaceous figure like a glove, and her glossy dark brunette hair hung in curly waves past her shoulders.

She walked through the clear area and stopped looking around until she spied a female medical officer standing next to a workstation. Since the Enforcers came aboard, Natalia had kept Domenic in their quarters and forbidden him to go anywhere without her. She was afraid, not so much for herself, but for her boy.

He'd come down with something. He was sick. He had a fever. "Excuse me," she said as she approached the woman. Her Russian accent was thick. "Ensign," she said as the blonde turned to give her a tentative smile and she saw the pip at her collar. "I am Lieutenant Druschev from Astrometrics. I need assistance." The worry in her ice blue eyes was evident.

Alexia stopped what she had been doing. She looked fearfully over to the Enforcers, then quickly looked away again. Ever since the Enforcers had come aboard, she had been trying her hardest to stay out of their way. She was absolutely petrified of coming to the attention of any of them, for any reason. She saw the way they had looked at Lieutenant Druschev as she had walked into Sickbay, and certainly didn't want them looking at her in the same way!

"Hello...how can I help you? I'm Ensign Alexia Johnstone, but my friends call me Lexi,", she replied.

Natalia nodded and gave her a tight smile. "My son Domenic is sick. He has a fever, and I did not want to bring him here." She cast a sidelong glance the way of the Enforcers. "Would someone be able to see him in my quarters?"

Lexi glanced over quickly again to the Enforcers. She could understand why Natalia didn't want her son out of their quarters. "I should be able to see him, but I'll need to clear it with Dr. Sefton first....she might wish to come along too. Shall we go see her?"

Natalia nodded. She clasped her hands behind her back and followed Alexia to Sefton's office.

Damhnait was staring at nothing in particular on her desktop terminal, when Natalia and Alexia entered. Since the Enforcers had come aboard, Sefton managed to lose the meaning of a clean shift end. The Gamma Shifters had begun to wait around Sickbay until everyone from Alpha arrived, to be sure that everyone arrived. The Alpha Shifters had done the same thing for the Beta Shifters, and the Beta Shifters' anxiety levels tended to lessen considerably if Damhnait remained in Sickbay for a few hours, while appearing to still be calm after a day of duty under the Enforcers' watch.

As such, Damhnait was starting to seem to be one of those stereotypical Starfleet doctors with an ego the size of a warp core, who doesn't think Sickbay can run without him or her, and who trades in his or her personal quarters for a larger office in Sickbay.

For a brief moment, Damhnait forgot the severity of the larger situation, and she smirked. She hoped the crew wouldn't get accustomed to this; she held a fondness for her quarters.

"What can I do for you?" Sefton asked of Natalia, as she tapped her terminal off.

Natalia gave the senior medical officer an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but I need someone to check on my son. He's sick." She looked worried, a mother's concern for her child clearly written on her face. "He's got a fever and he's been vomiting. I don't know if it's something he ate or if he's caught something. It came on rather quickly this afternoon. I didn't want to bring him here." She looked at the Enforcers and back at Damhnait.

"That is probably wise. I can barely stand to let my medical staff into the main ward," Damhnait remarked, already on her feet and slinging a medical kit over her shoulder. Regarding Alexia, Damhnait could sense her concern and knew her response before she asked, "Should I grab a Beta nurse?"

Lexi shrugged her shoulders in a movement of defeat. "If you would prefer that option, I will abide by it. I really haven't got anything to look forward to by going off duty - if it's alright by you, I'd rather stay on, and go see the boy. I've felt so useless lately; everyone else has seemed so busy, and I've just plodded along. Maybe this can be my way of giving something back to the Sulu." She looked at Dr. Sefton with a pleading look in her eyes. "Please let me do this, Sir," she said.

Sefton paused her focused march to the exit. To Alexia, she muttered with ease, "The question was mostly rhetorical. Come along, now."

Lexi's face creased into a smile of relief. Suddenly, she felt extremely useful for the first time in ages. She was hopeful that if she pulled this examination off, that Dr. Sefton would see her strengths and would be more likely to view her favourably when it came to handing out designated tasks.

She grabbed a medical kit for herself, and looked towards Natalia. "Come on then," she said kindly. "Let's go take a look at your boy."

***

Lexi glanced around as she entered Natalia's quarters. It looked to be quite comfortable, but there also was definite evidence that a nine year old boy lived here. She had never seen anywhere yet where there were children that was truly tidy, but these quarters came fairly close. She could hear a dreadful coughing noise, followed by a very painful sounding raspy style of breathing. It was these noises that Lexi followed, leading her to Domenic's room.

Domenic was lying in his bed with the blankets pulled up high when they entered his room. A look of concern crossed Lexi's face as soon as she spied him. She walked quietly over to the bed, and gently said, "Hi, Domenic, I'm Lexi. How're you feeling? Your Mum said you haven't been well. I'm just going to take a quick peek at you and see if we can fix you up."

Lexi grabbed her medical tricorder from her pack, and scanned it over Domenic. Once the scan was complete, she waited a short minute for the results to come through. While she was waiting, she found herself unconsciously stroking Domenic's forehead. It was so hot! She could feel him trembling, and she knew it wasn't from fear. The poor lad, she thought to herself. He really is unwell.

The tricorder beeped. Lexi read the results, and frowned. She glanced over quickly to Natalia, then away again before turning to speak quietly to Dr. Sefton. "Doctor...the results indicate that Domenic might be suffering from Tarkalean Flu. I know it's not life-threatening, but it is highly contagious! It will spread like wild fire if we don't act quickly." She glanced again quickly at Natalia. "She may have helped us out by keeping the lad confined to their quarters, but she's done us no favours by moving around the ship herself. This thing could have been spread anywhere!"

"I've been inoculated," Natalia spoke up quickly. She frowned; Domenic was supposed to have been given the same booster shots too just prior to coming aboard the Sulu. "But Dom has been in the Mess Hall and he was processed like everyone...so there's been quite a lot of crew contact."

Opening her medical kit upon a tabletop, Doctor Sefton prepared a hypospray while she decisively said, "I will consider a new round of inoculations for the crew." This could provide for her an opportunity to support Tebrianne's plan, but it would mean holding off real inoculations until the Sulu arrived at the Gate, since it would be suspicious to hypospray the entire crew twice in such a short span of time. And yet lenient medical practices in the early stages of an outbreak had nearly caused catastrophe at JJ324c.

"He'll be okay?" Natalia asked the Commander. She gave Domenic a smile and sat beside him on the bed, taking his hand. It felt hot and damp. She looked between the doctor and the nurse.

"Absolutely," Sefton promised her, and for good measure, applied the hypospray to Domenic. "In fact, a person's immune system is almost always strong enough to fight this flu on its own; it simply wouldn't be as quick or comfortable as we can make it."

Damhnait smiled comfortingly at Natalia. Conversationally, she asked her, "Where have you been reassigned to, Lieutenant?"

"I'm assigned to Medical...though I haven't done anything. I've still been working out of Astrometrics."

Nodding her comprehension, Damhnait admitted, "I've mostly been creating work for the medical staff, to keep them away from the Enforcers. I don't believe any of my nurses came by the Science labs to speak to you, but I suppose I wouldn't need them to remind you to avoid upsetting Enforcers at all costs, even if it means you have to serve a couple of shifts in Sickbay. There are obvious reasons," --Domenic-- "and there are reasons regarding the Command staff's plans to make the ship safe again."

While the Doctor and Natalia were talking, Lexi continued to try and make Domenic more comfortable. She walked quietly to the 'fresher and picked up a small face cloth, damped it down in the sink with cool water and returned to Domenic's room. She spoke softly to him, but in a tone that was loud enough for his mother to hear, and explained what she was going to do, then gently but efficiently rinsed his body and face down with the damp face cloth.

Natalia crossed her arms and nodded. "I was wondering what the plan was." She smiled grimly. "I can't imagine the Captain putting up with this...or Commander Lyrr. I haven't heard anything at all from Lieutenant Tagliesh. Lieutenant Saavar has been doing the walk around, reassuring everyone, basically telling us to stay away from the Enforcers and follow orders. I think he was concerned about the collars they are distributing. I don't even want to think about those. I've seen Commander T'Kal." And she smiled a little wider. "He came by to check on Shyla...Crewman Moreau, but she wasn't there," she shrugged. "There's things being said by some of the crew...about the Commander and the Tebrianne woman. Are they...true?"

"Commander Bancroft is from our universe and was romantically involved with Commander T'Kal. Apparently, she wants to get herself home along with us," Damhnait shared very softly. Even too softly for Alexia to hear.

Natalia frowned, but nodded. She cast an eye to the nurse as she cared for Domenic. The boy was smiling at the attractive nurse and being sookey...he was a boy. "Anything we should know about? What can I do to help, Sir?" She cast a meaningful look at Domenic. "I don't want my son growing up in this place." There was a quiet determination to her tone.

"As far as I know, there is nothing you *can do, at the moment, besides consciously giving the Enforcers no reason to be suspicious," Sefton told her. "Simply remain vigilant for any orders that may arrive subtly. The senior staff cannot even congregate as a whole, and so coordination has become somewhat unconventional."

Lexi continued ministering to Domenic - he really was a lovely little boy - and pretended she wasn't listening to the other conversation - it was so hard not to overhear what was being said, but she figured it was a private conversation and as such, she would keep it private - after all, who was she to talk about things she didn't really understand!

Natalia nodded. "I never considered my son as leverage against me before," she said softly. "I daren't do anything that would cause them to punish me by using him. I know my duty, Commander...but I just can't risk that. Not with these animals. I don't know what they are capable of."

"Keep it that way," Sefton told her assuredly, feeling herself to be in the same situation as Natalia. "Do what you can, but if the Enforcers don't like you working in a department that has been reallocated, you will be welcomed in Sickbay."

"Thank you, Doctor." Natalia smiled warmly, feeling a connection to Damhnait, as one mother to another. "If there's anything I can do, or anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sefton promised Natalia, almost as a teasing threat. To Alexia, Sefton asked, "How is Domenic doing now?"

"Well," she replied, "his temperature is lower now. I think the best thing for a while is going to be regular sponges down with the cool face cloth, and..." she turned back to Domenic and smiled cheekily at him.... "No running around for a few days!" Lexi turned again to Natalia. "I've also got a nebuliser here which should be administered three times a day...it will help clear Domenic's chest and ease his breathing.... I'll show you how to administer it before we leave."

Natalia smiled thanks, and let her demonstrate what she needed to do. It was a simple task and before long the two medical officers were satisfied that nothing else needed to be done. She showed them both out and returned to worrying about her only son.

---

"Smoke Signals"

Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Lieutenant j.g. Nathalie Gui; Security Officer
Lieutenant j.g. Tchalla Mel'Chir; Science Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Tristan Finn; Security Officer
Ensign Kit Markham; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Marp; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Kelzira Rax; Science Officer

Junior Lieutenant Pruitt, Windsor Enforcement Officer
Ensign Corbett, Windsor Enforcement Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Auditorium
Stardate: 57910.19 17h00

***

They had been assigned to patrol the corridors of the ship, watching for any violations against protocol. So far it had been a slow night, and the task was simple. Both, however, itched for a violation to enforce. That was when they heard it. Music, coming from the end of the corridor. And, laughter? With frowns set in place, and grim nods to one another, they started forward.

"Who's got trouble?" a man's voice sang out.

"We've got trouble!" a group of voices chanted back jovially.

"How much trouble?"

"Too much trouble!"

"Well don't you frown, just knuckle down, and knock on wood!" sang the man, his last three words accompanied by three loud knocks.

The double doors swung open, allowing the Enforcers to view the spectacle within. There was no doubt this was the source of the noises. Inside, a crowd of well-dressed party-goers had gathered around a piano. The room was brightly lit and festive, with a thick cloud of smoke hanging in the air. Everywhere within the room, people seemed to be celebrating, singing, and enjoying themselves. This was clearly a violation of the regulations. The two enforcers exchanged a look, and started slowly into the room, painsticks at the ready.

"Who's got nothing?" sang the man at the piano.

"We got nothing," chanted the crowd. Glasses and cigars abounded.

"How much nothing?"

"Too much nothing!"

"Say nothing's not a awful lot, but knock on wood!" And everyone knocked three times on whatever surface was handy.

"Drink?" offered the Ferengi as he presented his tray to Pruitt and Corbett, laden with glasses of liquor.

Pruitt looked at the drinks, then at his partner, then back to the Ferengi. "No," he said. "What's going on here? This gathering is against regulations."

Corbett tapped at the communicator badge at his chest, a globe pierced by a sword. "Corbett here. We have an unauthorized gathering in the auditorium. Requesting backup."

"Auditorium, mate? I'll be right down."

Corbett swallowed. "Yes, Captain Tebrianne," he managed to stammer.

Pruitt raised his painstick slightly. "Who's in charge of this gathering?"

"No one is really in charge here. We are just being friendly, Sir," said Marp, hefting the tray closer to the enforcer. "This one here is a Saurian Brandy." He indicated a glass on the tray. "The real stuff, not that replicated swill." Marp carefully shook the tray to swirl the contents of the glass, allowing the fragrant aroma of the brandy to reach the enforcers. "You sure you don't want some? I have others if you do not like brandy."

"Now who's happy?" questioned the singing man at the piano.

"We're all happy!"

"Just how happy?"

"Very happy!"

"That's the way we're going to stay, so Knock on Wood."

And everyone laughingly knock, knock, knocked.

Marp smiled and joined in with the chorus of the song. Turning back to the enforcers he said, "See, just fun. Now about that brandy?"

Corbett raised his painstick and would have jammed it into the Ferengi's gut, had not a hand arrested the movement. He turned angrily, ready to stick the newcomer when his face lost all colour at the sight of the diminutive commanding officer of the ship. He stepped back a step and quickly dropped into a salute, painstick falling to his side. "Captain Tebrianne," he managed. "I didn't realize you'd arrive so soon. I was just about to teach this vermin a lesson about our regulations."

"Now who's lucky?" called the singing man at the piano.

"We're all lucky!"

"Just how lucky?"

"Very lucky!"

"I 'ad a feeling that might 'appen," Teb said. She grinned and looked around. "Just looks like a party to me."

"Well smile again and once again, let's Knock, on, Wood!" The man at the piano drew out the final perky chords of the tune, and the assembly fell into laughter, light applause, pulls on cigars, and sips of liquor.

"Regulation seven seven eighty three stroke five clearly states that congregations such as this should be dispersed as long as they are outside of accepted gathering areas. This auditorium is not authorized for such a gathering. Everyone here is in violation."

"Aye, but it's a good thing we're here to make certain things don't get out of 'and, isn't it? Now, they're just 'aving some fun and letting off steam. Can't say I blame them, all things considered."

"This gathering is illegal, sir."

Teb smiled and leaned close. "You're arguing with me, Crewman," she said gently, but with an edge to her voice.

"It was not my intention, Captain. I humbly apologize."

"I'll accept your apology this time, Corbett," Teb said. "And, I'll even shorten the duration of your own pain because you were so quick to realize your fault." Tebrianne pulled a device from her belt, tapped a pair of keys and then depressed the larger stud at the top. On his belt, Corbett's agonizer lit up as it was activated. Corbett admirably withstood the pain for a few moments before finally dropping to his knees and letting out a cry. Beside him, Pruitt made no sound, instead choosing to stare straight ahead. He was obviously hoping to avoid his captain's ire, and Tebrianne allowed him that...at least for now.

Corbett gasped once the stick was removed. "Thank you, Captain, for teaching me my place."

"Now, 'ow about you chaps stick around and make sure nothing goes afoul here. If anything gets out of 'and and a riot erupts, you'll be here ready to put it down. Now, go stand by the door and try not to dampen the mood too much. We've got big plans coming up, and Captain T'Briane wants this crew working at peak efficiency. Morale boosts will help better than beating everyone down. Now, get to your posts."

"Aye, Captain," both barked and quickly moved to either side of the door, and both looking decidedly out of place.

With a grin that was hidden as she'd turned from them, Tebrianne regarded the Ferengi. "I did 'ear something 'bout brandy, didn't I?"

Marp realized that he had been holding his breath since the enforcer raised his pain stick. He took a breath and flashed the new Captain a smile. "Absolutely, Captain." He held out his tray for her to take a drink. Turning back to the piano: "Keep playing, this is a party."

The gathered assembly, who had turned at the cry of Corbett, turned back to the piano, as the musician stuck his cigar firmly between his teeth and struck up another tune.

Tebrianne took a drink from the tray and took a sip. She flashed the Ferengi a grin, and sauntered over to where the crowd had gathered. As long as the party was chaperoned, the Enforcers couldn't complain too loudly, especially not with her support of it. Thankfully her love of music was well known on the Windsor, and few, save T'Briane herself, would dare challenge her on it.

With a laugh, Tebrianne joined in the new song, her voice alleviating any fears that the gathering would be painsticked into oblivion.

Marp returned to the makeshift bar he had set up and began loading the tray up for another round. Tray in hand he made the rounds again.

"Here you are, Lieutenant Tagliesh?" said Marp as he dropped off a drink. "This one is special, made just for you. I'm not even sure I can make it again."

Marp continued on, "Here is a Whiskey for you. Straight up." He set the glass down in front of Gui.

"One Mad Ferengi for you." He set a glass down in front of Kit and gave him a wink. "Trust me. You'll like it."

Marp went around the room and kept everyone happy. The music and singing continued as Marp came to Corbett and Pruitt, looking dubiously at the crowd. "Hey, I have something you might like." Marp set the tray down on a table in front of the two unhappy enforcers. He looked at them. "Please, help yourselves."

He then reached into the inside pocket of the jacket he was wearing and pulled out a cigar case and opened it. "This you will enjoy," he said, taking out a cigar and offering it.

The two Enforcers glanced to each other then back to the Ferengi. "We will observe," Pruitt said sternly.

Beside him, Corbett shrugged and took one of the cigars. He glanced at Pruitt, and then slipped it into his belt. "Now, move along, Ferengi."

Man these enforcers need to learn how to have fun, Marp thought as he pulled a lighter from his pocket. He stuck a cigar in his mouth and lit it up as a pair of additional crewmembers entered the auditorium and joined the festivities. Inhaling deeply he slowly exhaled, filling the area with the fragrant smell of cigar smoke. Looking at Pruitt he said, "Light?"

"No," Pruitt answered. "Now return to your party, and leave us."

Marp shrugged in apparent defeat. "Well, I will leave these here in case you change your mind." He put the cigar case and the lighter on the end of the bar. He stuck his cigar back into his mouth grabbed his drink and joined the party.

"How about a song from Ensign Rax?" Marp suggested.

Farrell let the final chord of the song fade, and looked at the Trill. "What shall we have our favorite joined actress sing?" he drawled.

Finn tipped back his glass and drained the remainder of his drink. "How about," he said as he mused. "How about 'Turn Me On.' Know that one, Miss Rax?"

Kelzira flashed him a grin as she sashayed her way up to the piano. She fixed her gaze back on Tchalla, who was watching her with a large grin and blushing cheeks.

"Know it," she purred as Farrell leaned into the opening chords, "I practically wrote it." With that, she started into the song, perfectly lilting. "Like a flower / Waiting to bloom / Like a lightbulb / In a dark room / I'm just sittin' here waiting for you / To come on home and turn me on...."

Marp moved back towards the bar and the two purist enforcers. Smiling he said, "She sure can sing. I just love listening to her." He paused for a moment. "Are you sure I can't get anything for you? How about something from the mess hall? A Sandwich?"

"No," Corbett said with a glare to the Ferengi.

Kelli took a step toward Tchalla, and her lover playfully turned away with her lips turned down in a pout. "Like the desert waiting for the rain / Like a school kid waiting for the spring / I'm just sitting here waiting for you / To come on home and turn me on." She managed to keep herself composed as she noticed Amy slip in through the doors, though she wanted to let out a screech of delight.

"Ok, no sandwich, no cigars, no brandy, how about a tall glass of water? Tea? You must be thirsty."

"No," Pruitt snapped. "Nothing. I cannot understand how your species has not been wiped from the face of this galaxy. Go aggravate someone else with your endless prattle."

Shifting into the song's bridge, Kelzira took a couple steps toward Tchalla, eyes and voice smouldering. "My poor heart / It's been so dark / Since you've been gone / After all your the one who turns me off / You're the only one who can turn me back on." With a playful grin, Tchi turned back and gave Kelli a look that almost belied her innocent nature.

Marp put a perplexed look on his face. "No food no drink. . . I know, something to make you comfortable? A footstool?"

Corbett made a show of turning the setting on his painstick up, then glared at Marp.

Both Kelzira and Tchalla moved slowly back toward one another, eyes on eyes, until they were finally in each other's arms. "My Hi-fi is waiting for a new tune / My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes / I'm just sitting here waiting for you / To come on home and turn me on / Turn me on." she stretched the final word into a pleasing vocal run which earned her a round of well-deserved applause.

Marp was running out of things to offer them. "A good woman?"

Corbett couldn't help smiling. "If she is willing and won't fight, perhaps. After."

Pruitt sneered and glanced to his partner. "Careful. Regulations."

"If she's not going to put up a fight, there is no problem."

Sex! It's always about sex, thought Marp. Marp smiled and leaned in a little closer. "This can be arranged. Stay here. I will arrange things."

Pruitt and Corbett exchanged a look, then shrugged. "I wonder if they have one for me too," Pruitt said with a laugh, and then both shared in a chuckle.

Marp returned to the bar and filled his trusty tray up with another round of drinks. This time he added one scotch on the rocks and a old earth drink called "Sex on the Beach" to the tray. It was the pre-arranged signal.

Marp made his rounds again. When he got to Farrell at the piano he placed the scotch on the piano. "Even piano players need to drink." Smiling he continued to Lieutenant Tagliesh and placed the drink in front of her. Leaning close enough to not be overheard he said, "Compliments of tall dark and handsome."

Xay inclined her head and smiled imperceptibly at the short Ferengi. "Thank you, Marp. I'll be certain and thank our very kind captor soon enough." Taking up the glass, she raised it in salute at Corbett, offering a sultry smile to the man. "Looks like we have a taker," she muttered to Farrell as her lips touched the rim.

Farrell held his cigar between two fingers, using the others to lift his tumbler. He did not look at Corbett, choosing instead to make a show of looking shamelessly at Tagliesh's chest. "Everything's in place. I trust your sense of timing," he murmured, pitched just for her.

---

"Backfield in Motion"

Lieutenant Mark Thaine; Chief Engineer
Lieutenant "j.g." Jabari Zareb; Engineering Officer
Ensign Byron Klipper; Engineering Officer
Chief Petty Officer Patrick Riley; Engineering Crewchief
Senior Lieutenant Berian Crix; Windsor Engineering Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Main Engineering
Stardate: 57910.19 17h01

***

Zero hour. Farrell was updecks starting an illegal party right now, for better or for worse. It was entirely likely a mass painsticking was coming, but the man had promised a diversion. A riot would certainly make a good one.

Crix had been fretting over the engineering tool kits for the better part of half an hour, occasionally spitting bitter curses through his lips as he paced between the monitors and the tool lockers. The engineering crew of the Sulu made certain to avoid looking directly at his antics; whatever was going on had him in a foul mood and he had proven to be quick with his painstick.

"What's with him?" Hansen whispered to Ito, as the two engineers carried out the standard warp core checks.

"I don't know..." admitted Ito. "He seems--" She cut herself off at Hansen's frantic warning gesture. Hurriedly, the two women finished at the console and made a hasty retreat from Crix's location.

Crix was back at the console monitors, their images reflecting off his sharp features and glimmering over his light armour. A sick smiled spread over his thin lips at some bit of information. "Krieger! Nevak!" he screamed at the two enforcers, languishing near the door.

"M'lord?" Krieger shouted with his salute as he and Nevak tramped over. The heavy boots of their blood red armor sounded capable of making dents in the deck.

"Find that bitch Boothroyd," Crix ordered, poking Krieger's breastplate with a sonic spanner he grabbed up from the console. He then pointed it at Nevak. "You get Ensign Sefton and Petty Officer Moreau. Bring them all to the probe hold."

"Aye, M'lord," they said in unison with quick thumps of their chests. They weren't out the door before Crix was yelling again.

"Thaine!"

"Lieutenant," Thaine acknowledge, looking upward from the lower deck of Main Engineering. He'd refused to call him 'M'lord', and so far had managed to get away with it, but he knew the line he was walking was a fine one. He'd felt the wrath of his pain-stick more than once, as had others in his department.

"You're about to get some alone time," Crix informed him, looking over the railing. He rested the spanner on it. "I trust there will be no need for an unpleasant outburst when I get back?" he asked, his ice-blue eyes flashing a warning.

For a moment, Thaine grappled with his desire to provide a mocking retort, even though he knew provoking Crix would lead only to an excuse for him to indulge in his perverse penchant for torture. He finally settled for a "No, Lieutenant," and met Crix's gaze firmly.

Crix looked away with a snort of derision. It was but a few moments later that the unhinged Windsor officer marched out of Main Engineering, trademark sneer of still on his face.

As Thaine clambered back onto the Main deck, he found Ito waiting for him. "Something upset him," she observed, arms folded under her breasts.

"Something's always upsetting him," answered Thaine, darkly. "But whatever it is, who cares? We don't have to get him out of the way anymore." Ito nodded in agreement as Thaine continued. "Get the word out; we're getting the tanks in place."

"Sir," Ito acknowledged the orders as she hurried off to begin the preparations.

***

Riley cautiously peered around the corner to see if Crix had really left. He made a special effort to keep the container hidden from view until he was sure everything was clear. When the Irishman noticed Caly gone, he grew worried, but he realized she was a big girl and could fend for herself if the occasion called for it. He whispered to Hansen, "Sir...all clear?"

"We're clear," Hansen said, pulling the access panel off the Jefferies tube.

The chief pulled his burden around to the front of his body and strode out into the open with a plastisteel crate that contained a myriad of parts that would be needed for their plan, but not necessarily associated with anything diabolical in case he was detained or questioned or both by their hosts.

He clambered into the tube, pushing the crate ahead of him. Hansen took a last look around, and closed the panel behind him.

Riley was observed by several spiders tucked away in hidden spaces as he entered the Jefferies tube. He was scanned and their data banks were accessed as they identified him. His file was cross-referenced with the Booter_ID file and flagged as a "friend". Before Hansen had the panel closed all the other spiders were notified of his location and the sub-routine Booter_Paddy was executed. The three that were watching him scampered out from their hiding places and proceeded to follow his progress through the tubes, no longer keeping their whereabouts hidden, from him at least. One of them climbed in the crate to begin an inspection of its contents as it scrambled over the parts tucked away inside, while the other two took point and rear guard.

It was at the first hint that he was not alone in the tube that Paddy temporarily froze until he realized it was Caly's critters scampering around him. At least he hoped they were hers and not the Empire's....

After they made no aggressive moves towards him, but instead seemed helpful by moving ahead and behind his position (not to mention taking up a residence in the crate he was pushing), the engineer shrugged to himself. "Okay lads, here we go." With that said, Riley continued on towards the first destination on his route, Security.

***

Back in the heart of the ship, the two most senior engineers of the Sulu stared intently at a PADD. The whole department was on edge, worried that Crix and his henchmen would return any moment. But, there was little they could do now. The plan was in motion, the wheels turning, and the only course left to see it through the to end -- for better or worse.

As far as Thaine was concerned, it was 'about bloody time' they did something to get the Sulu back. Watching Crix and his (in Thaine's rather biased opinion) incompetent lackeys make their second rate repairs to his ship was the emotional equivalent of watching another man make out with a woman he loved. Clumsily.

Worse still was the way Crix treated his department. The man was about as stable as a Lashnik Warp Field, and just as dangerous for anyone in the surrounding area. Even if Thaine had considered Crix to be a half-decent engineer, he would have still strongly supported recovering the Sulu as soon as possible -- before anyone received any more serious damage from Crix than a simply painstick.

The Chief Engineer dragged himself out of his thoughts, and returned to the business at hand. Glancing briefly to Zareb, Thaine pointed toward a section of the schematic diagram of the Sulu. "One more minute and they should be here," he explained, indicating the area of the ship with a finger. "You got everything ready on your end?"

"Aye, sir," Zareb said, more as a wry aside than to keep up appearances though he was giving the PADD in his hand a worried frown. "We should have made more time to inspect the tanks...if we get even a small leak before we're ready to use them, internal sensors will pick it up. And then we will be done."

"Bit late now," said Thaine, before conceding. "But yeah. We should have. We could shut the sensors down, if that happens. Make it look like a fault."

"That is about our only option," Zareb nodded. "But hard to hide if we're doing it under supervision. Perhaps we can create an engineering difficulty that makes taking power away from internal sensors their idea."

Thaine considered the idea. "Like fluctuations in the EPS grid? That sort of thing can overload the sensors if they're kept online."

"And we can make it seem like a naturally occurring phenomena," Zareb confirmed before looking at the door out of engineering. "As long as we do it when we're not under their watchful eye."

Thaine nodded. "Take Thompson and Liu, and set that up. Bring the sensors down at your discretion."

Zareb nodded once and walked away from Thaine, looking for his crew.

***

"You should have seen this Bajoran, she had melons the size of basketballs." Mr. Hiro Shinto pantomimed them on his chest. It was yet another tale of the Alliance POW brothels, Hiro seemed to enjoy regaling those assigned to him with them. Byron listened silently as the man continued to spew his tale of sating his own lust. The two enlisted crew assigned to Hiro today had found other areas to work in.

Byron was exactly where he needed to be unfortunately. A ventilation exchange lay right beneath where they stood and so he continued to feign interest in his overseer's tale of debauchery. Timing was everything and the time was right.

"Ahhh crap."

"What did you do this time you lay about?" Hiro hated being interrupted and was take practice whacks at the air now with his painstick. He was approaching Byron in what he assumed would be a menacing stance.

"I dropped my tricorder down in the ducking, I need to crawl down there and get it or else we are going to be here until after dinner is finished being served."

"Craaaaaaacccckkkle. Ok get your lazy butt down there and get it. You people, I swear, are good for nothing....well maybe some of you are good for something," he said with a leer. Then added under his breath. "Damn that woman."

Byron wiggled down into the crawl space and set his plan into action. "Hey, Hiro, could I get the multi phasic scanner down here, I think I see a problem."

"Yeah sure, where is it?" he said after poking around and not finding the engineering kit.

"I think I might have left it around the junction where Green is working."

After a few moments Hiro returned. He was carrying the engineering kit and soon Byron was handed the device he sought. Unscrewing the bottom piece and removing the canister that he had hid inside the base of it he checked its gauge. Everything was in the green. Locating the tricorder, he attached the canister as fast as he could to the ventilation shaft.

"It is stuck down here. Give me a minute."

"Yeah whatever, hurry it up before I have to start thrusting a painstick in there to flush you out." Shinto followed his comment up with a chuckle.

Byron activated the gas canister's remote release mechanism. When the time was right he would set the thing off. Crawling out of the tight space Byron gave a weak smile. He was rewarded with a low level shock. The pain was nowhere near what Byron would have called bad, years of slave labor had deadened him to such things. He fell down and writhed in agony as any prisoner knows they must when their captors want to show who is in charge. "And don't forget it, you clumsy oaf. Now pick your lazy butt up and finish this work."

---

"Attention to Detail"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd - Engineering Crewchief
and Petty Officer 3rd Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician

Location: USS Sulu, Main Engineering and Probe Hold
Stardate: 57910.19, 17h05

***

Sloppy. Windsor-Engineering Lieutenant Berian Crix was thoroughly baffled at how sloppy the so-called officers serving aboard the Sulu were. The sonic spanner glimmering at him from inside his engineering kit was a shining example of the complete lack of discipline evident among this crew. So few of them knew the touch of an agonizer; it was no wonder they hardly knew respect for the proper order of things. The more he considered it, the more he was angered by this particular sonic spanner that was not supposed to reside within this particular engineering kit.

Precision. It was so simple to return a tool to the place from which it came that Crix felt an overwhelming need to discover whom in his staff was so grossly incompetent. Inventory logs told Crix that the tool kit had last been assigned to Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd, but she, apparently, had no more need for the standard-issue kit. Reading over her reports revealed that none of her tasks in the past day had particularly required a sonic spanner, but that she had been requested on a particularly nebulous 'engineering consult' in the Life Sciences Laboratory, by an Ensign Cristobel Sefton. Oddly, at roughly the same time, another engineer, Petty Officer Shyla Moreau, was working in the Life Science Laboratory to repair several of the consoles. That job would not have required a sonic spanner either.

Damage. According to Lt. Crix's cursory tricorder scan of the sonic spanner, there was a sizeable flaw in the spanner's primary armature. When he ran his thumb along the edge of the spanner, thought, it felt perfectly smooth. The tricorder's readings told him that he should have found a gash in the metal, and yet his senses assured him that the tool was in perfect working order.

Sneaky. The intense analysis of the sonic spanner revealed minuscule residue from thoron particles, which had interfered with the tricorder's standard scan. "Sneaky bitches," was the first thing Crix muttered, but his words were quickly followed by a call to the Windsor's Operations Department -- requesting that they use the Sulu's internal sensors to locate any signs of thoron particles, and that they access the internal sensor logs to track the past movements of the crew members in question.

Sloppy. Of the three prototype science probes that had been modified with thoron field generators, two were clean, but class-two probe 0047 was not. The probes were adjusted to be currently inactive and free from thoron particles, but 0047 suffered a glitch and hiccupped out a few thoron particles every six hours. The one weak probe led the investigation to the others.

***

The trio of Starfleet officers were led into the probe-hold. Standing with his back to the door was a fairly tall Trill with short-trimmed hair and a hawkish look. Once the three were in place, he turned to face the table that separated them. Placed in the center of the table was a single sonic spanner. THE sonic spanner. His sharp, blue-eyed gaze studied each in turn. In his several lifetimes of experience, Berian Crix had learned much about deception and the art of getting away with it. As he regarded the three before him, he could see that he was dealing with amateurs.

He stepped forward and held the spanner up for them to see. The way he held it, one could have thought it was dirty linen, not a sonic spanner. He made sure each had a chance to view the instrument of their downfall before he replaced it on the table.

"It's always the most minute details that give away the crime," Berian Crix said. He took a breath, swept his eyes across the trio, and continued. "Attention to detail will get you far in life. Well, it would if you had any. An engineer, a nurse, and an astrometrics technician. Tell me, one of you, what were you planning to do with...thoron particles?"

Caly remained silent for the moment, letting Cris answer as the ranking officer.

Looking straight ahead, Cristobel reported, "Creating a back-up sensor net that would not be discovered by enemies of the Empire, sir." His words were terse, and he fought to keep his legs from shaking. They shouldn't have found the sonic spanner so soon. They shouldn't have known about the probes before they were launched. They shouldn't have brought Shyla here.

"Exactly so, sir," the petite engineer chimed in with her agreement. Moreau shouldn't be here.

Shyla only looked at the deck, keeping her expression even. Her being summoned may have been unforeseen but she knew her part and would play it, as much as it pained her. But she wasn't going to volunteer anything to this man.

"Of course," Crix answered. "How very thoughtful of you. So loyal to the Empire already. Normally, I would suggest that such initiative was an indication of dedication. However, I believe in your case it is merely a story to cover up a lie. It must have been hard work preparing all of these probes, hm? Such a tragic waste, considering they will now be destroyed."

Cristobel made no response, except for an imperceptible clenching of his jaw to forcibly stop himself from spewing verbal acid. His eye-line remained directly forward, going nowhere near Lieutenant Crix.

Caly followed the Ensign's example. She kept her eyes forward and nothing showed in her expression. She was up to Phosphorus on the Periodic Table of Elements, Atomic number fifteen.

Crix barked a laugh. "I certainly hope the rest of your fleet provides more of a challenge than the three of you. Pathetic wastes of organic existence." He moved over to where Shyla Moreau stood, her gaze downward. "Are all the pathetic wretches from your galaxy so spineless? Have you nothing to say in your defense but meekly bowing your head and hoping I'll go away? You can put that little dream out of your mind because I have no intention of going anywhere!"

"We didn't do anything, sir," Shyla said in a small voice. She didn't look at him.

"Nothing? Nothing!? You have the audacity to modify these probes with thoron particles, and then lie to me about it? I should have the three of you locked up in agonizer booths for the next week! I'll see that the three of you wretches are assigned to me permanently!"

"We didn't do anything," Shyla repeated, quietly.

Crix looked at her for three furiously hot heartbeats and then the spanner was back in his hand. He swung it suddenly in a vicious arc and it struck Shyla in the head, making a sickening eggshell sound that crumpled her to the ground as if all her bones in her body had been instantly removed.

"She didn't touch the probes or thoron particles, sir!" Cristobel cried out frantically. He squatted down to check on Shyla's vital signs, and couldn't help viscously muttering, "If you had attention to detail, you would know that."

Caly couldn't believe her eyes or ears. These people were crazy. Flat out crazy. Crix tossed the bloodied spanner to the deck. To Boothroyd, it seemed like one of the last sounds in the universe.

"She didn't touch the probes?" Crix asked in a freakishly calm voice, loosing the cudgel-sized painstick at his waist. He grabbed Sefton by the shoulder and flung him away from Moreau. Without further warning, he swung the wicked painstick over his head and hit Shyla again, both the impact and the energy discharge rocking her body violently. He struck her again, breaking her skull and spraying both Cris and himself with her blood. Again. More blood. Again. More blood, pooling now beneath her auburn hair. Again and again and again.

Scrambling to his knees, but moving no further, Cristobel could only respond with wide-eyed abhorrence at the pain being so easily distributed. Cris held no fear of the pain coming his way, since his mind could only attempt to analyse the damage being done from a medical standpoint. He was utterly incapable of comprehending, let alone acting upon, the battery of his closest friend.

Shock held her body frozen to the spot, her brain was literally unable to process what was happening, what she was seeing happen right before her very eyes. Even now the utter horror of what was happening failed to register. It wasn't until a splatter of blood actually landed on Caly's cheek that she came out of her shocked stupor.

"STOP!!!!" she screamed and rushed at the Trill, trying in vain to put herself between him and the crumpled, bloody body that had been Petty Officer Shyla Moreau. It was in vain though. Too little and too late. The Trill's arm came down for another crushing blow and the blood and tissue covered painstick landed squarely on Caly's shoulder, the setting at Maximum. The petite engineer screamed out from the intense jolt of agony that slammed through her, strong enough to throw her body into seizure, the jerk of all her muscles sending her flying back to land on the deck in a spasming, screaming heap.

Crix stood there for a moment regarding Boothroyd, dripping red blood and gasping for breath. The Trill seemed to come out of a trance to notice Sefton kneeling on the deck, staring up at him in abject horror. Adjusting his grip on the painstick, Crix took one step and reached out to grab Sefton by the hair with a blood-soaked hand.

"How's that for attention to detail?" he asked in an annoyingly curious voice that made it seem like he expected an answer.

"Sefton to Sickbay, medical emergency in the probe hold," Cristobel whimpered out, unable to move from Crix's grip. His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to catch the attention of the communications grid.

Crix let go of Sefton and drew himself up to his full height, a feral smile splitting his bloody face. "You're wasting your time," the Trill informed him and with a passing look at the slowly stirring Boothroyd, stalked out of the hold. He didn't give Moreau a second glance.

Caly groaned weakly, residual tremors snaking through her body at regular intervals. The painstick she'd taken in the Cargo Bay paled in comparison to what had happened here. She tried to move, tried to get her muscles to respond to her brain's instructions, tried to get to Cris and Shyla... Oh dear gods... Shyla... But the lingering effects of the painstick and the searing pain in her shoulder when she moved, sent her reeling back to the deck with a wave of nausea.

Desperately crawling towards Shyla -- though his body moved with neither agility nor speed -- reality smashed into focus for Cristobel. Despite his sudden clarity, his vision blurred with wetness, as he struggled to wipe away the blood from Shyla's face and only ended up smearing the thick redness around. Despite the inappropriateness, he chuckled a single laugh, because his senses told him that Shyla was unable to feel pain. A blessing. She'd known her time was to be short; they both did -- the Kelway's Syndrome would have made sure of that -- but Cris couldn't bear the thought of that time ending for her in pain and hardship.

"The 'verse can still be a place of beauty," he hoarsely whispered to her. He leaned closer to whisper his words again, and pressed his lips to hers, but he had no breath in his tightened lungs to give her. And so he kissed her.

Shyla was gone. Whatever she had been had passed from that place and Cris struggled to find her mind. It wasn't until he reached the depth of his grief and broke that kiss that a single thought did drift peacefully into his head. He would never know if it was her last thought or only his own memory.

This is what it comes down to sometimes.

Darkness came for all three of them after the blinding sparkle of the transporter beam.

---

"On My Own"
by Tebrianne Bancroft

with Tchalla Mel'Chir
Kelzira Rax
Kit Markham
and a special appearance by Taylor Bennett

Location: USS Sulu, Auditorium
Stardate 57910.19, 17h08

***

There was music and dancing everywhere. Drinks were flowing freely and people were happy, despite the presence of the Enforcers on the ship. The Enforcers wouldn't be happy, but Tebrianne's own presence at the party would help keep them at bay. And, the party hadn't gone out of hand yet. It felt good to be free for awhile, to sing and enjoy the company of others. The crew of the Sulu made her realize just how empty her life had been for the last five years, just how alone she'd been. It was wonderful to hear laughter that wasn't tinged with malice. It was beautiful to see smiles that weren't turned to cruelty. Now, more than ever, Tebrianne was homesick.

She couldn't help wishing Ben were there. She couldn't help wanting to share the moment with him, the joy. He was elsewhere, doing security things most like. Or off with Lyrr...

Before she realized it, Tebrianne was next to the piano. It'd been so long since she'd sung, just really let herself free and lost herself within music. And, here she was. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd whispered into the piano player's ear, and he was starting in on the song. As the notes floated out into the party, she could see his face. Looking at her as he had in the holodeck.

"And now I'm all alone again / Nowhere to turn, no one to go to / Without a home without a friend / Without a face to say hello to / And now the night is near / I can make believe he's here," Tebrianne sang. Her voice was clear, perfect. It'd been so long, but it felt like she hadn't skipped a single day.

"Sometimes I walk alone at night / When everybody else is sleeping / I think of him and I'm happy / With the company I'm keeping / The city goes to bed / And I can live inside my head." She closed her eyes and let the song fly free. It was a part of her; it was her.

"On my own / Pretending he's beside me / All alone / I walk with him till morning / Without him / I feel his arms around me / And when I lose my way I close my eyes / And he has found me." In her mind's eye, she saw Ben. Twelve-string guitar and raven-black hair hanging to his shoulders. His violet eyes pierced her soul, and she was lost to him. But, it wasn't meant to be...not any longer. Now he had Lyrr, and he didn't need or want her. Well, perhaps he wanted, but he wouldn't let himself have. Why should he? He could just go to Lyrr when things got too steamy.

"In the rain the pavement shines like silver / All the lights are misty in the river / In the darkness, / The trees are full of starlight / And all I see is him and me / Forever and forever." Yet, even though he was devoted to Lyrr, he could still see his love for her in his eyes, his desire for her. She knew there was a part of him, and a large part at that, that wished to be with her. Her voice reached the farthest corners of the lounge; the notes seemed to dance in the air.

"Wow," Tchalla Mel'Chir whispered as she stared. "Oh wow."

Kelli nodded slowly. "She's...wow...amazing. She's got...oh wow, that vibrato."

"I think I'm in love," Tchi said as she look Kelli's hand.

"Me too," Kelzira answered. "Wow."

"And I know it's only in my mind / That I'm talking to myself and not to him / And although I know that he is blind / Still I say, there's a way for us," Tebrianne continued, aware of only herself, her song, and the vast emptiness that should have been Ben's presence.

"I love him / But when the night is over / He is gone / The river's just a river / Without him / The world around me changes / The trees are bare and everywhere / The streets are full of strangers." Tebrianne had always had a strong voice, from the first time she'd started singing. When she was out in front on any of the Brats' songs, her voice was clear and awe inspiring. Many had always joked about such a powerful voice in such a small package.

"I want to have her babies."

Taylor gaped at Kit Markham. "The Vulcan in me has to say it," she said. "I think you've got biology working against you."

"Metaphorically, of course," Kit answered. "She's...I've heard recordings, but...right here in person... I wouldn't say that she's my favourite artist, but...damn."

"She is very talented," Taylor said. "And, I'd say that you have a crush. And, she's just about your height too."

Kit chuckled. "I wonder what it would take to get her to join the Suluists..."

"With her voice," Taylor said, musing, "I think we'd be pretty close to phenomenal. And, it wouldn't hurt at all that you'd have your favorite singer singing with us." She grinned. "I think it's a great idea. Now, no offense, but where's Finn off to?"

"No idea," Kit said. "But he's missing a great performance." He gave her a grin, and nudged her in the ribs. With a chuckle, she nudged him right back.

"I love him / But every day I'm learning / All my life / I've only been pretending / Without me / His world would go on turning / A world that's full of happiness / That I have never known." There was always a danger of going too deep while singing a song, pulling too strongly on her own emotions. And, this time, she'd definitely done that. The parallels of Eponine's love for Marius and hers for Ben's were too close, and the song struck a chord within her that couldn't be denied. When she opened her eyes, tears shone there. Could she truly fight for Ben's love? Did she have the strength to try, despite what he'd assured her?

"I love him / I love him / I love him / But only on my own."

The reaction was stronger than she'd expected. Applause and cheers surrounded her. Tebrianne was slightly taken aback, having nearly lost herself in the moment and forgetting where she was. She smiled out at those around her and murmured her thanks. She tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Thank you," she finally managed. "It's been awhile since I've had a chance to belt anything out. Thank you for the opportunity."

She started slowly toward the doors, knowing she had to get away from the party for a time. The emotions were too raw, the pain far too fresh. In her thoughts, Ben was turning from her kiss, holding her to him to keep her from a second attempt. I'm not Deiran, you know I can't do that.

She slipped out into the cool air of the corridor and hurried toward the turbolift. No, Ben, she thought, You're better than that. But I can't help wishing that would bloody well could.

Tebrianne disappeared into the turbolift and called for the bridge. She'd need some time alone, time to think, and time to settle her heart.

"I love him," she sang. "But only on my own."

---

"Sometimes Life Just Wasn't Fair"
By: Ensign Alexia Johnstone, Nurse
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.19, 17h30

***

Alexia had been working hard in Sickbay. She was doing a double shift because things had been busy lately, and then there was an emergency call. Sickbay was told that a site-to-site transport had been authorized, and before the comm ended, the blue haze of the transporter deposited three forms on the deck in the middle of sickbay.

She recognized Cris Sefton immediately, and he looked to be in a state of deep shock. Lexi's attention was drawn to the screaming of another female, wearing a gold collared uniform. She was shuddering with her back arched and a terrible agony wrenched her mouth into a loud gurgling scream that was the trademark of an Enforcer's Painstick. The third form was immobile, and her eyes were drawn to the bright scarlet that draped the matted hair and face of another woman. She was face down on the deck but the shape of her head was all wrong - it was broken open and the mass of fluids and brain matter were a glistening mass that the medical officer knew at once to be fatal. Her assessment of the three patients was automatic, and Lexi moved to the female still in pain even as the rest of the medical staff converged on Cris and Shyla.

She indicated to Annikafiore for help and the red headed nurse responded with a curt nod. They moved quickly over to where Calyca Boothroyd was lying on the floor and lifted her onto a biobed. She was in a bad way. Lexi spoke gently to the female engineer - she didn't really know what she would hear or comprehend, but it was a habit she had gotten into from her training days. "Hi there....it's okay - you're safe now. You're in Sickbay. We're going to get you fixed up as quick as we can."

It took her several moments to even comprehend that she was in Sickbay. And even then it didn't totally register with the Chief. Her mind was in utter confusion and the traumatic turmoil that gripped her kept her from forming coherent thoughts. Pain lanced through her shoulder and shuddered its way through her body with every spasm that racked it. She curled onto her side and groaned in distress.

Lexi ran a tricorder over Calyca, and waited for the results. They indicated a broken collar bone - and some internal bruising. She grabbed a bone knitter and held it to the injured shoulder. With her free hand, she reached for a hypospray and administered a stronger dose of painkiller than she normally would, but she felt it was needed at this point in time. She asked for a second hypospray to administer a strong dose of muscle relaxant. It was slapped into her palm by Szerda and she applied it. The girl relaxed almost immediately as the pain vanished. Her tremors subsided, and a few seconds later Calyca could focus upon Alexia.

"You'll be alright," Lexi said kindly, moving the bone-knitter in tiny increments over her broken collar-bone. "Just relax."

Caly reached out a hand that shook and clutched desperately at Lexi. The eyes that stared at the nurse reflected the utter, consuming horror that she'd witnessed. She was trying to think... Why couldn't she think? "J-Jurell..." she managed to rasp out through a throat that felt swollen and raw from her screaming. "C-Call him..." she requested. Her eyes started to fill with tears but they remained unshed.

Lexi was confused - she wasn't sure who Calyca was talking about. "Jurell?" she asked. She hadn't been off Gamma shift long enough to become familiar with everyone on board - but was learning quickly! "It's okay - just relax, and tell me who he is, then I can call him." Lexi smiled reassuringly at Calyca.

She closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath. "S-Sorg Jurell," her voice was nothing more than a raspy whisper. "Tell him I... I'm okay...." She looked up at Lexi again, eyes pleading. Her brain was getting pleasantly foggy as the drugs took hold, but that was alright because it was helping to muffle all the scattered, fragmented thoughts and sounds and snippets of images crashing around in it.

Lexi put the bone knitter aside. It had done its job - now it was just a matter of time for the healing to finish. She knew the worst though, was yet to come. With the injured shoulder healing, it was the contents of Calyca's mind that would be the hardest for the girl to cope with. Heaven only knew what was going through her memory. At times, Lexi thought how handy it would have been to have telepathic abilities...but this time, she didn't think she really wanted to know. She had seen the looks of sheer and absolute terror on Calyca's face - and it scared her.

"It's alright," she said in a tone that was meant to be soothing. "I'll call him now."

Lexi tapped her commbadge. "Johnstone to Sorg."

"Sorg here."

"Can you come to Sickbay please. It's urgent."

"I'll be right there," Jurell's voice sounded momentarily confused. "Sorg out." He didn't waste breath asking questions, he just started toward sickbay.

Lexi watched Calyca's face. It had a look of peace to it now - at least compared to what it had been when she first arrived in Sickbay. She knew Calyca would eventually have to talk about what had happened, and decided she would ask her now. "Do you think you can tell me a little of what happened to you?" she asked gently.

Caly seemed to visibly relax when she heard Jurell's voice. Little tremors gripped her body, but the muscle relaxant was doing its job and she hardly noticed them. She reached out a hand and took hold of Lexi's arm. The peaceful look about her was belied by the horror that still lingered in the depths of her eyes. She looked like she wanted to cry but couldn't. The tears were right there, but they simply refused to fall. "W-we were... T-then Shyla... He...." She shuddered and caught a glimpse of one of the Enforcers out of the corner of her eye. The effect was immediate and violent. Her body jerked and she tried to scoot backwards, but her body wasn't obeying the directions of her brain yet. The panic that gripped her was intense and overwhelming and something that Lexi recognized immediately. Caly's heartrate shot up, her breathing intensified and she broke out into a cold sweat.

"Hey!" Lexi said, as she followed the tracking of Caly's eyes. She moved quickly to put herself between Caly and the sight of the Enforcer, and gently enfolded her into her arms, rocking her in a soothing motion. "It's okay! It's okay! You're completely safe...I won't let them anywhere near you. I promise you!"

Caly clung to her, her body trembling now. She was glad she didn't have to see them anymore, but she knew they were there. And she didn't think anyone could stop them. She also didn't think Crix was done with them and expected him to come striding through the door any moment. "N-no one's safe..." she stated through her panic and there was a note of finality to her voice.

Lexi decided that now was not the time to be talking about what had happened out there.... It was obviously far too early, even with the calming effect of the drugs she had administered. She could only hope that the time would eventually be right for Caly, and that the right person was around for her when that time came. She hoped that Caly would see her as a friend, and as someone she could talk to at any time.

Having come to that decision, she spoke gently to Caly. "You don't need to talk about it now. I'm sorry. I should have realised...but...please...know that if you do feel the need to offload sometime - well - I'm here for you. I might not understand exactly what you went through, but I can at least listen. Sometimes that can help."

Caly drew in a breath and nodded, her eyes darting over in the direction of the door even though Lexi's body was thankfully blocking her view. She managed a hoarse, "Okay," and tried to give the other woman an encouraging look that failed miserably.

"But now," Lexi stated, "it's probably best if I give you a light sedative. It will help you rest and continue the healing process for that shoulder of yours." What she didn't add, but she was sure that Caly knew, was that it would also do her mind the world of good to close down for a while as well.

She nodded again, more than ready for the oblivion of sleep. She looked back over towards the door again, only this time it wasn't to fearfully look for any enemies. Instead it was to look for a friend.

Knowing that Caly would relax properly and sleep once the sedative had been administered, Lexi said to her, "It's okay - as soon as Sorg arrives, I'll bring him to you. Just remember, you are completely safe here. No one would dare to try anything here." With that said, Lexi picked up a hypospray, and administered a dose of the sedative.

Caly hoped so. She really hoped so.... But somewhere along the way she'd lost the ability to believe in what people would and wouldn't dare, and she'd lost the feeling of being safe. Unfortunately Lexi's words, as well intentioned as they were, didn't make her feel any better. If anything they reminded her of just how unsafe they all were.

Lexi realised by looking at Caly's face that what she had said hadn't helped. She wished there was some way she could truly help this girl.... Sometimes life just wasn't fair. She could only hope that Sorg wasn't too far away...even though she didn't know him, it seemed he had a great influence on this girl, and that could only be good for her. Lexi had a feeling this Sorg was going to have a greater part to play in Caly's healing than anyone could imagine.

The sedative began to take hold and while Lexi watched and continued to gently rock her, Caly's body began to relax even more as she slipped towards the sweet oblivion of drug-induced sleep. "...he's coming..." she murmured to the woman holding her and looked up into her eyes. "...who are you?..." she asked in a semi-slurred voice as the drugs tugged on her consciousness.

"Yes," Lexi replied in a soothing tone., "He's coming...he'll be here soon." A look of concern continued to wash over her face - she really was worried about Caly. Suddenly, a thought crossed Lexi's mind - she had been so focused on her patient that she had completely forgotten the other two who had been beamed in with Caly. She glanced up quickly to check on their status, and realised that it was okay; the others were being expertly taken care of. She relaxed again, knowing that she would be able to stay with Caly for the time being. Even though she had done her duty and taken care of Caly's injured shoulder, she knew that she was still needed here.

The validation for that was in the depth of Caly's eyes and the way she looked up at Lexi. She didn't want to be alone right now. For the first time in her life, she was afraid to be alone. Even here, surrounded by all the medical staff, the thought of being alone terrified her.

She continued on in a quiet voice. "I'm Alexia - Lexi - Johnstone - but who I am doesn't really matter at the moment - what matters is that you're okay. I want you to try and rest - we can talk later if you feel up to it."

"...thank you..." Caly offered. It was hard now for her to keep her eyes opened as the sedative began to overpower her desires and the peaceful fog started to invade her mind. She blinked in an effort to keep her eyes opened and her gaze wandered back towards the doorway even though it was still blocked by Lexi's body. "...Alexia..." she murmured.

Lexi's head turned towards the door as she heard it open. A tall Bajoran man walked in and Lexi guessed it might be the eagerly awaited for Sorg Jurell. She raised a hand to indicate to him where he was needed, then spoke softly to Caly. "He's here, now..... "

Caly's gaze sluggishly followed Lexi's and her green eyes struggled to focus on the approaching figure. His face finally came into relief and her fingers twitched as she tried to lift her hand towards him. Her eyes finally succumbed to the drugs and they slid slowly closed, blocking out his image as everything faded to black and she slipped into a drugged sleep.

---

"Grievances"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
"Captain" Tebrianne Bancroft

Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.19, 17h35

***

As the true commanding officer of the ship, Lyrr Tayla was the first officer outside of those involved to be informed, and following an aggressive interrogation of Dr. Sefton, Lyrr stoppered her explosive fury and stalked through the corridors of the ship. Her desire was to suppress her anger and let it loose only when she encountered the murdering bastard, but she was still thinking rationally enough to know any punishment dealt directly from her hand would mean Matt's suffering. She couldn't act yet, if at all, but someone would succumb to her wrath. The likeliest victim came to mind almost immediately upon leaving sickbay behind, and Lyrr sought her out with a vengeance.

She was to blame for everything that befell the crew of the Sulu, and Lyrr was more than eager to take out her own feelings of guilt on the woman. She was the Executive Officer, and every death, every injury was, in the end, her own fault, and every single officer harmed represented another load to the mounting burden of guilt that began accumulating the moment they were thrown into this foreign universe. But she refused to carry it alone now.

Ignoring the fully functioning chime when she arrived at her destination, Lyrr balled up one hand and instead battered the door with it to announce her presence; the act did nothing to dispel any of her rage.

Within the office, Tebrianne Bancroft had been sorting through reports and orders from the Windsor, trying to figure out which could be turned to their advantage. Their best course still lay waiting at the Gate where they might be able to get lost for a time in the movements of all the ships there waiting to go through. Things were shuffling into place to put the Sulu in a position where they could capitalize on any available opening. The timing would have to be precise, and every movement had to be planned. Her thoughts were interrupted by the banging at the door, and she set the padd aside. "Enter," she called out.

Lyrr Tayla did, storming inside and not stopping until she was behind the desk, swinging the captain's chair occupied by Teb towards her roughly. She towered over the seated woman, who made a move to rise, but pushed her back down and kept her there with a firmly placed hand weighing upon her chest. "You bitch," Lyrr rasped. "This is your doing...all of it!"

Tebrianne glared up at Lyrr but managed to maintain her composure. "What the bloody hell are you talking about, Commander?" Teb answered, her voice calmer than the sudden flurry of emotions within would indicate.

"I'm talking about you and your incompetence," Lyrr growled. "I'm talking about your men murdering one of my own! And it's your damn fault!"

Tebrianne's hand clamped around Lyrr's wrist and she twisted. Using some of her superior strength and a little of the tricks Benedict had taught her, she managed to slip out from under Lyrr and get free. She turned back to face Lyrr. "Stop," she said. "One of my men--? Murdered--? I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't--! Tell me what happened."

"That you don't already know," Lyrr spat, massaging her wrist, "is further proof of your failure. Your man killed an innocent woman!" Lyrr's eyes narrowed to darkened slits as she added coldly, "A pregnant woman. He bashed in her skull," she continued, advancing towards her slowly, "he drove painsticks into her, and he killed her." Lyrr shrieked and rammed Teb into the bulkhead, using her forearm to pin the Vulcan by her neck against it. "You were so damned confident in your ability to control those bastards! You faulted me for doubting you...and now look! You stupid, blind, bitch! Look what you've done!"

Tebrianne's hands clamped around Lyrr's forearm. She was beginning to gag, but managed a breath. Her muscles strained as she pushed Lyrr away, her Vulcan heritage lending her the strength she needed. Once she had the leverage, she pushed Lyrr back with a force that belied her size. She immediately dropped into a defensive stance, but her hand never once moved toward the blade still shining on her thigh. "Who? Who the bloody hell was it?"

Lyrr chuckled hoarsely. "Why?" she asked. "Are you afraid he'll do it again? Are you now realizing you have less control than you boasted?"

"Just give me the bloody name and stop gloating," Teb said. "One of my men disobeyed a direct order. Perhaps you've never 'ad anyone disobey orders under your command. But, you 'ave the luxury of commanding Starfleet officers. Just give me the bloody name so I can discipline the officers that are under my command."

Lyrr stood taller and smirked, enjoying the hold she'd gained over the woman who had been her rival since stepping foot on the Sulu. With condescension, she replied, "His name was Crix. Apparently, not many of your people respect what little authority you have. That means this game is over, and I'm taking back command of this vessel...before more of my crew is killed because of your arrogance!"

"You take command of this ship, and we won't last five minutes against the Windsor. We'll never get to the Gate, and we'll never see our universe again. Think about what you're saying. You may not like me and you may be upset over what happened, but there is no way in any 'ell that this ship will be able to get close enough to that Gate unless we go in flying friendly colours. Please, Lyrr, trust me on this. I'm not the bad guy. Whether you believe it or not, I am on your side. And, if the Windsor finds out that I'm on your side, it's all over...for all of us." Her voice took on a cold tone as she added, "I'll deal with Crix, and after that there should be no more problems with the Enforcers."

Lyrr snorted harshly. "That is hardly comforting assurance, Ms. Bancroft. One of my officers died! It shouldn't have happened to begin with, and now you insist it won't happen again?!" Lyrr bared her teeth viciously at Teb as she took a single, menacing step towards the woman. "Go to hell," she seethed. "I am not entrusting the life of my crew to you, and it was a mistake to do so from the start." And instead of advancing upon her, Lyrr spun on a heel and headed for the door.

"Stop," Teb shouted. She took three steps after Lyrr, and her voice rang with command. "If you go out there and try to take this ship back, I will have to stop you. I've been trapped in this hell for five years, and I'm not going to let you destroy my only chance of getting 'ome. Don't make me do that, Commander. I swore I would protect the lives on this ship and I swore I would get them all back to their rightful places. Use your bloody 'ead for a moment and think about what you're about to do. One of the men under my control killed one member of the crew; if you go out there, you will be killing off the rest. Please, don't make me stop you."

"Please?!" Lyrr whirled on her, a look of jeering incredulity twisting her features. "You are begging me? Just as Shyla Moreau begged your man while he was beating her to death!? You stupid bitch!" Lyrr boomed. "You don't care about this crew or this ship! You only care about the fastest way of getting home, or of getting Ben into your damn bed!" Breathing heavily, but no longer yelling, Lyrr pointed a threatening finger at Teb and whispered, "Try and stop me. Just try it and you won't live to see home again."

"Don't be so sure of that, Commander," Teb said dangerously. "Fine, I'm begging you. I'm pleading. Don't be so bloody stubborn and stupid. Don't throw the lives of every person aboard this ship away because you're grieving for Shyla Moreau. In that, I care for them more than you. I am working to protect them and to get them 'ome. Stuff your jealousy and your contempt. If you want your crew to safely get 'ome, you are going to have to work with me. You're angry and grieving. You're upset, and you're pointing your finger at me. Berian Crix is the villain 'ere. I will deal with him, I promise you that. But if you don't want anyone else in your crew 'urt, you will have to cooperate with me. I am on your side. I am a Starfleet officer and a Federation citizen. I care about every bloody person on this ship, because they're my people. They're people of the Federation, my fellow officers, and they don't deserve to be 'ere. Did you ever 'ave to do anything you were ashamed of during the Occupation? I've spent the last five bloody years of my life doing things I'm ashamed of. I want to help this crew get 'ome, all of us. We don't belong in this universe. Please, Lyrr, I am begging you, please help me get everyone back where they belong."

"How can we possibly get Petty Officer Moreau back?" Lyrr whispered hoarsely, displaying the first sign of true sorrow. "You didn't even know her - I bet you've never even met her or half the people on this ship! How can you say your utmost priority is their safety without sounding hypocritical?"

"Does it matter if I've met them? I'm a Starfleet officer, Commander. My career has been about protecting people and planets that I've never visited or met. I do what I do because I care for them and their way of life. I don't have to know a person to want to protect them, to want to keep them safe. I didn't know Petty Officer Moreau, and I regret that deeply. I regret that things got out of hand. I regret that I couldn't 'ave done something to stop her death. I 'ave so my regrets...but please, I want to make sure this doesn't 'appen again. I want to make sure Crix is punished for what he did. I want 'im to be an example to the rest of the Enforcers to what will 'appen if they try anything like this again. I will not tolerate more." Tears brimmed in her eyes as her voice shook with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "This role I'm playing is tearing me up inside. I want to get out of 'ere so I can stop pretending to be something I'm not. I'm protecting the crew as best as I can without giving away where my loyalties truly lie. If they find out before we get to the Gate, before we get through the Gate, we may not make it. This isn't just for me, Commander; I've lived in this universe for five years, five rotten 'orrible years, and this crew doesn't deserve to spend an 'our more than necessary to get out. I've lost everything in my life and the most important things, I can never get back again. It would 'ave been best if I did die five years ago. But, now I'm 'ere, and I can help the Sulu get back 'ome. If I can do my part to help this crew, then maybe the five years I spent here will serve some purpose after all."

"Then help them, dammit," Lyrr spat, "instead of devising schemes to lure Ben into your bed, or sitting in your office hiding while your men are murdering mine. I won't be appeased this easily, not while people are dying." She let the vow permeate, both woman watching each other and coming to the unspoken realization that they would never find peace or friendship with one another. Then, Lyrr was gone without another word.

Tebrianne stood in the empty room for several more minutes, composing herself and contemplating her next course of action. She knew what she had to do.

"Computer, what is the location of Lt. Berian Crix?"

***

Tebrianne strode into main engineering like a predator. The black leather she wore, the set of her jaw, and the dark-rimmed eyes that burned with fury set many scrambling from her path. Word had spread that she was headed here, and the rumour of what might transpire had brought several members of the crew along. She could sense Ben nearby. His anger was intense, but he knew that any act on his part would bring reprisals.

She, however, would bring none. This was her command, and punishing those who stepped out of line was her duty. Crix had stepped well out of line and violated her mandate that the crew were not to be harmed.

She found him standing at one of the engineering consoles, exchanging harsh words with a technician standing there. She lengthened her stride and made for the Trill. He noticed her approach and started to salute, but quickly caught the look in her eyes.

"Captain," he said, assuming a haughty tone in his voice, "I will have a report for you on the incident in the probe bay within the hour. The insolence of this crew of weaklings is astounding. I assure you, she had--"

Tebrianne's open palm lashed out and struck him solidly in the chest. She was a small woman, but she possessed the normal Vulcan musculature, and the blow lifted Crix from his feet and sent him back against the computer console.

"You violated a direct order, Lieutenant," she snapped. "You went against regulations I'd set down from the beginning of this operation."

"The girl had it coming to her, they were planning some scheme to thwart our plans." The light armour he wore, a modified version of the heavier Enforcer armour worn by the security troops, was dented from where she'd struck him. "She was hiding information from me, and lying about it."

Teb hauled him to his feet and shoved him. "I gave orders," she snarled. "You disobeyed them. You've given the people of this ship a reason to band together, to work at resisting us even further. You made her a martyr in their eyes, and if they revolt against us it'll be in 'er name. The people of this ship have to crew this vessel for the plans to work, and you're giving them every reason to stop working...because it'll only mean death for them in the end. Look into their eyes, you bloody bastard. See the defiance and anger, you put that there. You just made our job that much more difficult."

"I was within my rights," Crix roared, his anger flaring. He pushed back, sending the Vulcan woman back a couple steps. "You've gone soft, Captain. They need to fear us, not be coddled."

His fist lashed outward. Teb slipped to the side, but not fast enough. Crix' fist caught her on the cheek and spun her offbalance. He moved to press his attack, but she was ready.

Tebrianne caught his wrist and twisted. She moved in close and used Crix' own momentum against him. He crashed to the deck again, but flipped back up like a cat, spinning toward her.

"I challenge you for this command," he growled, and charged again. A blade had appeared in his hand, and he swung it at Teb. She managed to get her forearm up and deflect his wrist before his knife could find purchase. Her own blade came out then, its curved blade looking quite deadly as she faced off against him. He looked at her blade and laughed, secure in the knowledge that his body armour would easily protect him against it. That was what the armour was designed for. He lunged again, but Teb's blade came up to parry his.

They circled, each searching for an opening. She darted in, flicking her blade toward him and retreating. Her movements were expert, speaking of years of training and practice. Before long, Crix bled from a dozen cuts, each stinging and painful, but none truly deadly. Finally, out of patience, he lunged again, and Tebrianne caught his wrist and held it firm. With that, she cocked her arm back and attacked. The look of smug arrogance on Crix' face disappeared as she drove her blade through his armour, piercing his vitals within. She gave her blade a vicious twist, and the light in his eyes dimmed.

"For Shyla Moreau," she whispered, then pushed him off her blade. She turned away as his body slid lifeless to the ground. She met the gaze of the Enforcers present. "Any who act as Lt. Crix has done will meet the same fate. The crew are not to be injured. Discipline can be administered through painsticks, but any further beatings will be punished severely. Get back to your duties."

And, with that, she left engineering. It wouldn't bring Shyla Moreau back, but perhaps it would prevent any others from receiving the same fate.

As Tebrianne slipped into the turbolift, she whispered again, "For Shyla Moreau."

---

"Our Own Little Duties"

Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; Command Yeoman

Location: USS Sulu, XO's office
Stardate: 57910.19 17h50

***

Lyrr had passed straight through the bridge, ignoring her own declaration that she would usurp Teb's position and take the captain's chair herself; she was too distressed to perform effectively as commanding officer, and required solitude before she openly broke down in front of the entire bridge crew. That was her destination instead.

She'd failed so many in the past, and now Shyla Moreau was her latest victim, one who could have been spared if Lyrr had listened to herself instead of deferring to Ben, or trusting Teb, or fearing the responsibilities that would have fallen upon her if she assumed command. She wasn't ready for any of it, and that was her greatest failure, the most resounding reminder that she was still so young and ignorant. Experience came with time, she knew, but that didn't help her now, nor did it do Shyla Moreau any good.

Instead of seeking out Ben this time, as she had become so quick to do recently for comfort and guidance, Lyrr steered herself unsteadily towards her office and staggered through the doors before her emotions spilled over in the corridor. But, even here she would not find a moment alone just yet.

The room was definitely not as she had left it in her haste earlier. The days old mugs stained with dried tea, and plates of half eaten meals were cleared from the squat coffee table; pillows frequently used to cushion her head during a mid-day nap were fluffed and neatly arranged on the sofa, while the large juice stain once marking the carpet just before her replicator had been magically scrubbed away. Everything had been either polished, dusted, or otherwise tidied, and Lyrr was certain, even in her mental instability, that she had not done this.

It was with shock that Lyrr scanned her office, settling her gaze upon the elderly, meek crewman leaning over her desk, and with great hesitancy that she stepped further into the room.

"Crewman?" Lyrr stopped and took in another awestruck survey of her surroundings before returning her gaze to the man. "What are you doing in here?"

"Tidying, sir," Rett said calmly, stacking padds.

The door closed behind her, and Lyrr glanced back momentarily towards it. She noticed the padds littering her coffee table were now neatly arranged. "Rett...why are you cleaning my office? Especially now? I'd really like to be alone."

"I can understand, but I'm afraid the last thing you need at this particular moment is to be alone," Rett said, neatly patting the stack he'd made.

"No," Lyrr stressed, attempting not to eye him as she strayed to her desk, "I really think this is the perfect moment."

"If I may be so bold, sir, to what end?"

Lyrr had stopped behind her desk, now with eyes closed and body utterly still and silent. Calm gave way to fury as Lyrr swept Rett's perfectly aligned tower of padds from the surface, and accompanied the clatter with a violent slamming of her fists upon the desktop in response. "To what end?" she hollered. "To the end that I can damn well grieve without you witnessing it if I want to!" she finished, then caved entirely and collapsed innto her chair, just as her hands came up to cover a sob.

They stayed that way for a long time. Rett stood calmly, his head down, hands clasped in front of him. Lyrr wept openly, her face in her hands, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his presence in the room. At last, Rett spoke, gently into the silence that remained after Lyrr's last gasping sob.

"I am sorry, sir," he said.

"For what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper and thick with tears. "You didn't kill her...they did." Lyrr chuckled mournfully. "I did."

Rett looked at her, a puzzled frown starting. "Why in the name of all the prophets would you say that, sir?"

"I'm Executive officer of this ship," she replied, with some of her usual fire returning. "I should have protected her.... Those enforcers should have been ejected from an air lock by now! We're being held prisoner on our own ship, Rett. This shouldn't be happening, and if I were better at commanding this ship, it wouldn't be!"

Rett thought carefully, and took the seat opposite Lyrr. They regarded each other across the desk for a moment, and then he spoke again.

"What could have been done differently?" he asked.

Lyrr sighed and looked aside, through the viewport, while the last of her tears rolled down her cheek in profile. "I've thought about that," she admitted softly. "And I'm not sure. I'm just...I'm trying to think of what I can do now." Lyrr squeezed her eyes closed again, but not without one fresh tear escaping. "That doesn't really help Shyla, does it?"

"It is good that you grieve," Rett said softly. "Remember, though, that Petty Officer Moreau was discharging her duty. Grieve, but let it turn to respect for her sacrifice, not the paralysis of insecurity. And especially not to revenge."

Lyrr smiled weakly. "Revenge is what I know best." Her bleary eyes found his, and in hers was a flash of longing for the comfort his warmth would provide; she instead wrapped her own arms around herself and sank heavily back against her chair. "I don't know how to deal with this other than to rage or...or cry. She was so young...so innocent. Prophets, Rett...she was one of the good ones, yet she had to die. Why is it always that way?"

Rett thought a long time, and when he spoke, his voice carried the faraway thickness of emotion. "I watched, years ago, as my only son was beaten to death. I thought about it for years after it happened. Why him? He had done nothing. I was the one who had served the Cardassians. I was the one who should have taken that beating. He was so innocent, and I so guilty. But they killed him, and not me." He sniffed, and continued. "It took me years to reach an understanding of it--to come to terms with it."

Lyrr nodded gently. "That's a long time," she whispered. "How did you finally manage it?"

"I found the balance," he said. "His death was a horrible thing. It haunts me to this day. But balanced against the horror of his death, I rediscovered the joy of his life. I carry with me the horror of the life draining from his eyes, but I also carry the pride I felt at his birth. I feel the revulsion of seeing him crippled; I feel the joy and pride at seeing him take his first steps. I still hear him calling for me as the blows fell, but I also hear him calling me daba for the first time," he smiled a faraway smile and took a moment to compose himself. "I could have raged against it, certainly," he scratched his temple and looked at his knees. "I could have sought revenge; I could have done some act or deed that would have appeared to even some great metaphorical score. I could have somehow tried to 'get even' for the wrong done to me. But in the end, it is letting go of the rage and allowing the balance to come that brings peace."

"That sounds easy," she decided. "But a person can't just...do that. I still cling to rage from my past on Bajor, Rett. How can I just...let this go now when her death is still so fresh?"

"Duty."

"Duty?" Lyrr echoed, then chuckled wryly. "I've already failed in that - we wouldn't be in this mess now if I hadn't. And with that damn woman on the bridge, how can I do anything?"

"It is important to not blame yourself for the choices of others," Rett answered.

"And that," she declared, "is the hardest part of all, especially when those others should not be here." There was a time of pensive silence, one where Lyrr came to a decision that would normally have never been considered. She smiled slowly at Rett. "I want Farrell's efforts redoubled. I don't care what it takes, I want this ship back. Will you make sure he knows?"

"I will, sir. If I may, sir, will you do something for me?"

"Anything," Lyrr replied fervently. "Anything at all for you, Rett."

He reached across the table for her hand. She passed her gaze from his withered, open palm, to his eyes with uncertainty, but no apprehension. Lyrr was relieved when she was able to slip her smaller hand into his and watch his fingers close around it. Finally she would be allowed the physical solace she had yearned for. His skin was soft and warm, not at all harsh or unyielding, which only attested to the life free of hard labour he'd lived during the Resistance. His hands, Lyrr decided, were those of a man who was timid and kind, and who had much affection to offer. Lyrr tightened her hold on him, accepting just that, and the comfort he provided.

"Please remember, Tayla," he half-whispered. "Shyla Moreau was a Starfleet officer, engaged in her duty. Her death is a horrible tragedy, but it would be folly to throw away the lives of the rest of the crew in an attempt at revenge. Revenge would even no scales. Please believe that. The crew has your orders, and is engaged in their completion. Take comfort in their trust."

She sighed and nodded in acquiescence. He was far wiser than she could ever be, and Lyrr had learned in their time together that it was often sensible to heed his advice. Where there was once sorrow, Lyrr now smiled fondly at Rett. "Thank you," she whispered, and raised their hands to her lips, turned them over to present his, and gently placed a kiss upon it. "I hope you know how much I value you...how much I care for you, Charla."

"I care for you, too," Rett smiled paternally. "Be careful. Be strong."

"I'm not worried about myself," she told him. "In fact, I'm more worried about a man who spends his spare time tidying his XO's office." Lyrr gestured to her now pristine surroundings, save the spread of formerly stacked padds now on the floor, and chuckled. "Please...don't ever do this again."

Rett's smile turned humorous. "Yes, sir."

---

"One For The Road"

Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Marp; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Roades Mouazer; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Auditorium
Stardate: 57910.19 18h05

***

"Well that's how it goes, and Joe I know your gettin' / Anxious to close. / Thanks for the cheer / I hope you didn't mind / My bending your ear.

"But this torch that I found, It's gotta be drowned / Or it's gonna explode / Make it one for my baby / And one more for the road."

By the time Farrell had finished the last song, the partygoers had filtered out. Songs had been sung, and a surprisingly good time was had. Even the enforcers, who Marp had reported were named Pruitt and Corbett, seemed to have enjoyed an hour of guarding a harmless singalong. And Tagliesh had left with Corbett, which was all the better.

Farrell let the last arpeggio fade from the piano, and took a last draw from his cigar.

Marp began clearing out the bar. Surprisingly, there was not much left. He placed the remaining liquor into a box. "That was like no party I have ever been to," he chuckled. He took another cigar from his jacket pocket and lit up. "You sure know how to throw a party, Farrell."

"Well thank you. You did well, too," Farrell said, stubbing his cigar out, and lifting his scotch glass in salute. "Very well."

Marp pulled a bottle from the box, filled a glass of his own and then refreshed Farrell's glass. "Here is to success."

Farrell saluted with his glass again, and both drank.

Mouse came into the lounge, expression worried, his actions like that of a rodent who had just narrowly escaped a mouse trap. Moving over to where Marp and Farrell sat, Roades quickly drew to a halt.

"Mouse, my man," Farrell said jovially. "Have a drink. Celebrate with us."

"Ensigns Marp and Farrell, I have bad news to tell you both; Shyla Moreau is dead."

Farrell studied Mouse. "That's not funny."

Marp looked at Mouse carefully. He wore a sad expression on his face. "I do not think he is kidding," He paused a moment. "Are you?"

Roades shook his head no and then looked to both of them sincerely. "No, I'm not kidding. Chief Boothroyd and Ensign Sefton witnessed the entire thing happen right before their own eyes..." Mouse remarked somberly.

"What happened?" Farrell asked.

"Chief Boothroyd, Ensign Sefton, and Ensign Moreau were brought in for questioning by Lieutenant Crix after he found a Sonic Spanner; Lieutenant Tagliesh could give you more information but it involved probes armed with thoron-generators; apparently Crix placed the blame on Shyla and he beat her to death with a pain stick."

"Okay, now I know you're joking," Farrell said, trying hard to deny what he'd just been told.

Shaking his head slowly Mouse quietly replied, "No, sir, I'm not." Biting down on his lower lip he blinked to hold back tears. "I honestly wish I was..."

Farrell puffed out a breath, then folded his arms and stared absently at the piano.

Marp removed the cigar from his mouth and put it out. Suddenly everything was real again. Marp sat down and looked at his toes. He could not help but wonder if they were not all going to meet the same fate. He was not certain which would be worse being stuck in this universe or being dead.

They sat in silence for a long time.

---

"Sleep is Preferable"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.19, 19h13

***

"What happened?"

Her class A uniform uncharacteristically rumpled, her hair clumped in two messy buns at the back of her head, Damhnait Sefton was perched on a chair close to Cristobel's biobedside. He had awoken without any fanfare; his eyelids simply opened. His following movement and words were slow and considered. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, despite her response: "Shyla didn't make it to Sickbay..."

"I know. I was there," Cristobel retorted. His irritation was empty. His voice was laced with grogginess from the anesthetics. He asked, "But why was I sedated?"

"You..." Damhnait glanced at the overhead monitor, before meeting Cris' eyes again. "You were in shock, and I suspect your metaconscious has shut down your telepathic abilities. You began insisting that you were in a holodeck, because nothing felt like it had emotional depth, and then you began referring to yourself as Sefton Alpha."

"Oh," Cris flatly stated. Sefton Alpha had been the name of an alternate Cristobel Sefton that this Cris had met aboard the USS Miranda. "That's why I can't feel you." Cris reached out to her. He pressed his fingertip to her forearm. She felt real. But then so did holograms.

"I could stimulate your paracortex, but I see no reason to. You will be fine. In time," Damhnait consolingly said.

"But why can't I feel me?" Cristobel asked. He checked his own neck for a pulse.

Painfully frowning, Damhnait lied, "It's probably the medication."

Cristobel walked his index and middle fingers across his collarless throat. "Did they respond?" Cris asked absently.

"They insisted on being present when they allowed us to use the transporter. They backed the hell away when you all arrived. I think they are as upset as we are, " Damhnait admitted with surprise. She explained further, "We put Shyla's body in stasis to save the baby, but we can't leave them for more than two days, or the stasis field will begin to degrade the child's newly developing tissue."

"The Daystrom Institute," Cristobel said. He switched to an insistent whisper. "When I contacted them. They sent me their own findings. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. The rough schematics are supposed to be confidential. But it has to be built for if Shyla gets sick, and has to give birth before the baby can survive outside the womb."

Damhnait cringed at Cris' usage of the present tense, regarding Shyla. Still, she chose to encourage him; "You have two days to try to make a maturation chamber work. I'm going to search the medical records for potential surrogate mothers in the meantime."

He sat up suddenly. His hands gripped the edges of the biobed unsteadily. His hands and face were clean. His uniform was still drenched in dried blood. "I have to see her," Cristobel resolved.

"You don't want to see her," Damhnait replied automatically.

Cristobel looked up from his uniform jacket. His eyes met Damhnait's. "I already saw." He shakily got to his feet. He gave emphasis to every word when he repeated himself. "I have to see her."

Damhnait nodded, and came around the biobed to catch Cristobel before he went to the morgue. Her arms encircled his torso, and she clutched him tightly to her chest. Cris buried his face in her shoulder when her eyes glossed over with tears. He wished he could cry.

---

"Aftershock"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd
Crewman Sorg Jurell

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.19, 19h30

***

It was the sound....

That horrible, god awful, sickening sound as each blow of the painstick had connected.... It drowned out everything else as it echoed in her mind and reverberated throughout her body, showing up as little jerks and flinches and twitches while she slept off the sedative she'd been given when she'd awakened in a panic. Even in her sleep she tried to drown out the noise by focusing on the Periodic Table of Elements. It was a futile endeavor however, as her mind was unable to focus past the jumble of fragmented thoughts and snippets of disturbing images that filled it.

It was the sight....

That god forsaken, still unbelievable image of -- not Shyla -- because her brain still refused to process that image, but the Trill. The contortion of his face and the look in his eyes, coupled with that sound, would haunt her for the rest of her life. But it'd really been his eyes... She still couldn't comprehend what kind of mind... What kind of being could do... Poor Shyla. She'd been so afraid of the painstick. Not for herself, but for the unborn child she carried. Caly had felt only a single blow... Just one... And dear gods... poor Shyla...

And it was the feel....

That utter stark, physical sensation on her cheek that had shocked her out of her paralyzing stupor and thrown her headlong into the reality of what was happening right before her very eyes while she'd simply stood there....

The sight and sound and feel of what had happened had her alternately disappearing totally beneath the bedclothes as she curled up and restless enough that they'd put a forcefield around the biobed to keep her from falling out. At the moment the only evidence she was in the bed was a splash of red hair protruding from the top of the covers, and the small lump beneath them.

Sorg Jurell had been summoned to Sickbay. He'd walked in on a nightmare that made his blood run cold and his heart turn to ice. The Bajoran security officer wanted what every other security officer on the Sulu would want in the short space of time it would take for the awful news to spread. The word had gone out like a sub-space carrier wave. One of the Windsor Enforcers had brutally murdered Shyla Moreau. Sweet, kind and gentle Shyla. The girl who had made them all weep for the loss of Ethan Storm. The girl that had been pregnant with a child that would never be born. The girl whose head and face were unrecognizable.

Jurell stood in Sickbay staring at the two Enforcers who stood by the door. They were quiet, uncharacteristically they were wary of their surroundings and the stark hostility that pervaded the room. The bitter hatred that was in every eye and every thought and every poisoned glance that arrowed at them as if looks should kill.

It was a brutal murder. A senseless slaughter of an innocent girl. No one knew why as yet. Calyca Boothroyd had been sedated as soon as she arrived in Sickbay. She'd been in the throes of a savage painstick attack that had broken her collar-bone. For Sorg Jurell the crimes simply mounted up one atop the other. It ceased to matter how many there were now. The first was enough. When he'd been told about Caly it had simply gone by with a nod and a prayer of thanks to the Prophets that she wasn't likewise dead. She would be okay. Shyla Moreau would not. This death was a personal matter to the crew. By its very nature it was cruel and heartless and it painted a truer picture of just how brutal this universe was. They had to get home.

Jurell stood dispassionately by Calyca's bedside. He spoke to no one. One hand rested by her head, the red tousled hair brushing his fingertips as a tactile contact that proved she was still there. Other than that, his eyes drilled into the Enforcers by the door. His mind was fixed upon a task: to categorize them, find weakness, exploit weakness, and finally attain the means to take them out. When the time was right. They would all pay. Every single one of them.

The nightmare of sight and sound gripped her and she struggled to the surface through a drug-induced haze. A small sound, and then another escaped her as she began moving in the bed, pushing backwards until she threatened to go tumbling off the edge. A moment later and she was gasping for breath and struggling to be free of the cover and trying to sit up as she teetered on the edge.

When Jurell felt her move he turned away from his scrutiny of the red armoured Enforcers. He watched as she struggled and gasped and then when she started fighting with the covers, he drew them down to allow her to sit up unhindered. He sat on the side of the biobed, and as she rose upward he caught her by the shoulders and gazed into her blinking eyes. She gasped again and was on the verge of struggling against his hold, but his icy blue gaze held onto her haunted green one until she recognized who he was. A moment later he almost smothered her in a bear hug while her small hands clutched at him. His strong arms enveloped her and drew her in as her body practically surged into his lap.

Her breath caught on a half sob in her throat and a small sound of distress escaped her as she buried her face against his chest.

"It's okay Cal," he said hoarsely, his throat constricted by the surge of emotion her reaction summoned in him. "I won't let them hurt you." His hands held her firmly and protectively, and he closed his eyes to stop impending tears. He felt a flood of relief and knew that he wanted to hold her and not let her go. She felt so small and fragile in his arms, and the protective instinct in him was over-powering. "I won't let them hurt you," he repeated softly.

He'd said that before, and at the time she'd replied that he might not have a choice. She wasn't going to make that same reply again. Not now, not this time. This time she held onto him all the more tightly and pressed her trembling body against his. "I c-can't focus..." she began, her voice thick and hoarse as she tried to speak around a suddenly tear swollen throat. "All I c-can see--" Her words broke on a sob and for the first time in her adult life, she started to cry.

He held her and began a slow rocking, her tears and trembling body clasped to him as if by some miracle he might be able to supply the comfort she needed. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

His throat closed and he swallowed hard. Her tears just made him all the more protective of her, knowing that she had to cry to release some of the horror of what she'd seen. He couldn't take that away, but he desperately wanted to. He rocked her and from somewhere deep in his memory he started to sing. It was very quiet, and the words were Bajoran, but the song had been sung by his mother when he was very young. She would hold him and rock him and sing the little song of comfort and warmth when he awoke in the night with the nightmares of the Cardassians. It had always made him feel loved. Caly may not have understood the words, but that was unimportant. He knew she understood the tone of his voice and the very evident devotion to her comfort by the way her sobs began to lessen to softly hiccupping tears and the rigidity in her body started to melt away in his arms. The song was pitched so that only she could hear, and he had unconsciously moved his body so that she couldn't see the two Enforcers in their armour.

She kept her face buried against his chest and rubbed her eyes against him, the front of his uniform now wet with her tears. But she didn't care. Not now. Not about that. "S-Shyla?" her voice broke and she almost succumbed to tears again. "An-and C-Cristobel?" She couldn't force herself to call them by their last names or ranks.

"Cristobel is okay," he said as he stroked the back of her neck and blinked away his own threatening tears. He had to swallow hard again as he took a deeper breath. She seemed to know what he was about to say because he felt her body stiffen and her hands tighten in his shirt before he spoke. "Shyla is gone...there was nothing they could do. I'm sorry, Caly." He hadn't even known the girl. He'd seen her a few times, even said 'Hi' to her in passing. She'd always had a smile for everyone, and for a moment he was saddened that he hadn't known her better, just so that he could join in with the mourning instead of reacting only to Caly's emotions and how that made him feel.

A strangled breath caught in her throat and a small sob escaped her. "Oh g-gods... S-She wasn't s-supposed to b-be there, J-Jurell." A bout of renewed tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. "T-They weren't suppose t-to know she was involved." She rubbed her face almost harshly against the front of his uniform and her grip on him tightened. "S-She wasn't involved... We made her get out. And h-he... He... Oh gods..." her voice faltered and she couldn't say any more.

"Don't blame yourself, baby," he said as he pressed his cheek to her hair. "Why did it happen?" He asked the question but his chest felt constricted. What had they been doing to attract such brutality?

On a normal day, she'd have likely slugged him for calling her 'baby'... But right now... Right now it felt good and soothed some of her rougher edges that were frayed so badly. She rubbed her face again and tried to compose herself a little even as she curled closer to him. "We were m-modifying some sensor probes with thoron particle generators," she told him, her voice easing some from the roughness of her crying.

"What the hell for?" he asked softly. "Who ordered that? What was the point? We can't launch a probe without the Windsor knowing, and we certainly can't get telemetry from them even if we did." Shyla Moreau was killed for following someone's stupid orders. It was a waste of energy talking about it. He sighed. "No...don't worry, babe, it's not your fault. Do you want to get out of here? I'll talk to the Commander."

Caly started to answer all his questions, but her voice died in her throat when he told her not to worry. She blinked and looked around, suddenly and uncharacteristically paranoid at his final question. "I... I..." she stuttered, her body trembling a bit. "H-He won't come here... Will he?"

"Don't you worry about him," he said grimly. "I don't think he'll live long enough to even think about hurting anyone else." He kissed her brow and held her tighter. "Put him out of your mind, baby, he's no concern of yours now. I'm not going to let you out of my sight, not for a minute. Okay?" He leaned back a fraction so that he could look into her eyes. They were red rimmed and blackened, swollen and haunted, but they studied his with an intensity and trust she couldn't hope to mask. Then they filled with a sudden worry and her hands gripped him even more tightly.

"Y-You c-can't... If he turns up d-dead..." she shuddered. "They'll retaliate. T-They won't let it slide.... Jurell... They're..." She shook as the memory of Crix's eyes came into sudden and stark relief in her mind. "They're...evil. There's no remorse.... He enjoyed what he did...." She was trembling uncontrollably now. "H-He en-enjoyed it...." The horror of that had her voice breaking and her eyes blinking back a sudden rush of fresh tears as she looked up at him.

"Don't worry." He brushed a thumb across her cheek to wipe away a warm tear. "I'm sure Commander T'Kal will deal with it." He gave her a slight smile. "It seems that their Captain is on our side," he whispered.

The unexpectedness of that little tidbit of information had her blinking distractedly. "S-She is? How do we know for sure?" It was clear that she didn't have any trust for any of them, including their 'Captain' and her voice was almost frantic as she continued. "H-how can we trust her? These people... They're bad, Jurell. Really bad. They have cold black hearts. What if she's not on our side? And we trust her? We could never get home...."

"Trust me," he said softly, gazing into her eyes. "Now isn't a good time to talk about it, but believe me, she is. We will get home, Caly." He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on her lower lip, feeling its trembling and tasting the salt of her tears. "Just trust me on that," he whispered, drawing her in against his broad chest and holding her.

Caly sighed as she looked up into his eyes. She did trust him. But she was scared. She'd discovered fear and horror and things she didn't truly understand existed. It was one thing to know of a thing... And quite another to experience it. She'd had her faith shaken right down to its foundation. She sighed again when he kissed her and closed her eyes as she laid her head against his chest. "It was supposed to be a backup sensor net to discover information about the gate and blow it up if we were still under their control when we got there," she told him softly, her voice only loud enough for him to hear. "We were never going to launch them... We were going to devise a way for them to be jettisoned..."

"Who's stupid idea was that?" he asked incredulously.

"Tagliesh," she answered quietly. "I wasn't under orders," she admitted. "But I volunteered to help Cristobel. It wasn't something he could do alone."

"Jaresh, hilal miralisu vanista gen..." he swore in Bajoran, before biting it back. "Cristobel isn't a science officer, what the hell is he doing?" He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "The damage is well and truly done now, isn't it. It almost cost you your life...you weren't under orders. Did I or did I not tell you to keep your head down?" He looked away, sickened at the thought that once again some poor innocent had gotten killed at the whim of a superior officer who would never truly pay for the fact that she had given the orders in the first place. It was always the grunts on the ground that took the brunt! His fist closed with a cracking sound but he shook it off. This time it had been a pregnant girl. It brought back too many old memories.

Her hand tightened in his shirt and she drew in a soft breath. "Cristobel was following orders," she reminded him. "Yes, you told me to keep my head down. I knew the risks and I helped him anyway because it was my duty, Jurell. You would have done the same thing. Do you expect me to do less?" she asked him. "The evidence led to Cristobel and I. Not Shyla. We made sure of that. I don't know how or why he pulled her in, but he d-did--" Her voice broke and she covered her face with a trembling hand.

He sighed and drew her against him. "I'm sorry," he said with regret lacing his voice. "It's just that...it could have been you. Prophets forgive me...but I'm so glad it wasn't you." He held her tightly to him so that her face was tucked under his chin. "I'm sorry."

Her hand slid down and she pressed her face against his throat as her arm snaked up to wrap around his neck. She held tightly to him and nodded a little. "It.... It was supposed to have been," she admitted, her voice and body trembling. She hadn't wanted to die, but she knew the risks going in. Cristobel and her both did. They made sure that any evidence led back to them specifically so innocent people wouldn't get blamed... And in the end... "She shouldn't have been there."

"It wasn't your fault, Cal," he whispered. "It wasn't your fault." She was trembling and he pulled the thermo-blanket around her and held her, rocking again. He rubbed her back, simply holding her and trying to provide comfort. He knew that it was going to be a long night.

"I stood t-there..." her voice cracked. "I c-couldn't move while he--" She tightened around him and pressed closer, her body drawing in as small as it could. "W-When I finally t-tried to stop him... It was too late..." her voice thick with impending tears. "And... And God help m-me, Jurell... F-for a moment... For a m-moment, part of me was g-glad it wasn't me..." she admitted with a hoarse, ashamed whisper.

"I'm glad it wasn't you," he said immediately. "All of me is glad it wasn't you, so you can forgive the small part of you that thinks the same as me...and if you tried to stop him that was brave and totally stupid at the same time." He held her tight and kissed her cheek. "Prophets...I'll say a thousand prayers in gladness that it wasn't you."

"I-I couldn't keep letting him..." Her body shook and she closed her eyes tightly to get rid of that sight... The sound... She flinched involuntarily. "I didn't move fast enough..." She was totally in his lap now, even her feet were tucked up there with her. She drew in a shaky breath and pressed her face more snuggly into his neck. "T-thank you."

"I'm taking you out of here," he said softly. He stood up easily, and Calyca was already in his arms, wrapped in the blanket. She was light, and Sorg Jurell turned to face the exit.

She once again experienced an irrational moment of panic and she clung tightly to him, her breath quickening. "W-Where are we--" Both arms were around his neck now and she forced herself to draw in a calming, if shaky breath. It helped, but only marginally. She tried to recite the Periodic Table again, but she couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus.... What was number one? She couldn't remember what number one was. What element was one? She could feel the panic rising despite her efforts to quell it.

"It's okay," he said softly as he started off. "I'm taking you home." He walked between the two Enforcers, every sense alert for a movement that held a threat. Neither of them moved. They seemed subdued. They avoided his eyes; the big man with ice blue eyes that plainly accused them of what had been done to the girl.

He was out in the corridor walking to the turbolift. His strides were measured, and he held Calyca to him as if she were a small child.

Home... That word alone brought a slight measure of calmness to her trembling body, and his arms went a long way to calming the rest. She hid her face against him as they passed by the guards. She couldn't look at them. Not now. Not yet. "I...I can't remember what the first element is," she told him.

"You'll remember later," he replied as he stepped into the lift. "For now, I want you to tell me what your favorite color is." He ordered her deck number and stood in the center of the lift, facing the doors.

Caly blinked and pulled back a splotchy red, tear-stained face to look at him in a bit of mild confusion. She looked awful. "My what?"

"What's your favorite color?" he asked with a hint of a smile. His face was only inches from hers, and she looked beautiful. "Mine is green," he breathed, looking into her eyes.

"Y-You're trying to distract me, aren't you?" she accused softly. "And make me feel better before I know it's happened, huh?" she asked. One corner of her mouth quirked a bit. "Was it always green?" she wanted to know.

"No," he said truthfully. He smiled. "You're trying to evade my question aren't you?" The lift was moving and the light indicator panel flickered as the decks flew past.

Caly blinked and shook her head. "No, not really. I just got distracted by mine," she admitted with a shaky little sigh. "Blue. What did yours used to be?"

"You know I can't remember." He gazed into her deep green eyes. "It's really hard to concentrate when I'm looking at you." He smiled. "You turn my brain to mush."

That made her smile a little. She couldn't help it. Despite what she was feeling inside, despite the turmoil of emotions and thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm her, she couldn't help that faint smile. "I have that same problem, yanno. Is there a cure for it?"

"Of course," he grinned, "we work at it...eventually we'll get used to it. Right now, though, I could look into your eyes and forget everything else." The turbolift stopped and the doors swished open. He spared a glance at the corridor, his eyes flicking across the open doors before he stepped out and walked on toward her quarters.

"Grows on ya, huh?" She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, her arms tightening around him. "Forgetting would be nice," she admitted.

A crewman stepped aside, nodding at Jurell and curiously examining the girl wrapped in a blanket but said nothing as he saw the warning look in Jurell's eyes.

It was dull green eyes that watched the crewman as they passed and even followed him until he was out of view. "No one has any idea..." she said. "No idea just how really bad these people are...."

"By the end of today they will," he said sadly.

He arrived at her door and sensing Calyca's presence the door slid open. He walked her in and carried her over to her sofa. He put her down gently, and for a moment he hesitated, not really wanting to relinquish his burden. He smiled at her, and knelt beside the sofa, wrapping the blanket more securely around her shoulders. "I'll make you some tea," he said with a smile. Before he realized that the replicators were off-line and then he scowled. "Well, maybe not..." and he sat next to her, turning her so that she could lay on the sofa and lean against his chest where he cradled her. He cursed his impetuousness, knowing that he should have gotten a light sedative for her.

"It's okay," she sighed softly. "I don't need any tea..." Even if a cup sounded good. "Thank you. For being here." She let him move her around and settled in against him with a soft sigh. There was still a light, barely felt quiver that would move through her body on a semi-regular basis and she was suddenly rubbing her face against his uniform in an effort to stem an overwhelming and unexpected rush of tears.

"It's okay to cry, baby," he whispered, pulling his legs up beneath him, and settling her more intimately in his arms. "She deserves to be cried over...and it does the soul good to cry. Just let it all out, I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her brow and felt her shiver again as the hot tears spilled from her eyes and coursed down her cheeks.

"S-She didn't deserve to die." Her voice was raspy and thick with her tears. "And it... It was for n-nothing... For absolutely nothing..." Which just made it so much worse because Shyla's life had been taken and they'd failed in their assigned task.

"I know," he whispered against her hair. "No one deserves that. You can't blame anyone but the animal that did it...it wasn't your fault. Sometimes...it's just the way it is. Senseless and without meaning." He kissed her brow, his lips lingering against her skin that felt so hot and flushed. "It teaches us the meaning of life. It shows us that we have to live the time we have...to cherish the things we have, and the people we love. It gives us a responsibility to make her fate mean something. We're the guardians of that fate, Cal...we stand in the way of people like that...we stand up to them and we never give ground. Ot's what makes us who we are."

"I know that... Gods, I k-know that," she agreed. She knew it, believed it, and lived it. "It's the without m-meaning part that's so w-wrong. It should have had meaning. But we failed." She choked back a sob and buried her face against him. "We failed and Shyla is d-dead.... That's so... So wrong. She... She was afraid of the p-painstick," she told him. "N-not for herself... For the b-baby..." She had to swallow past the lump in her throat. "Gods... Her blood.... Her b-blood was everywhere..." Her voice broke and she dissolved into tears and sobs that reflected the utter senseless horror of what'd happened.

Jurell just held her tighter, protectively and started rocking her gently, making soft noises and allowing his own tears to fall. The girl deserved a few tears, but his resolve hardened. They would free the ship. Calyca was not going to be hurt again. He held her like that until she literally cried herself into a fitful sleep. His hand combed through her hair and continued the caress down her back in a soothing, repetitive motion that seemed to help ease the fairly regular jerking of her body. Every once in a while small sounds of distress would slip from her lips and he could feel her fingers moving against his chest as they drew some unseen schematic while she slept. At one point she cried out, "Stop!" and her body lurched against his.

He quieted her, and she murmured and fell back into a restless doze. Each time she made a sound he stroked her or rocked her, and he sat like that for a long time, thinking hard about what he was going to do, and knowing that above all else he'd take care of the girl in his arms. Finally, he lifted her gently and carried her to bed, still wrapped in the blanket. He curled up beside her and looked out at the stars blurring by. He stayed awake most of the night, and surprisingly she slept right through, although she stirred many times, but each time he was awake and soothed her back to sleep.

---

"The Long Wait"

by Lieutenant (jg) Derran Casey - Security Officer [NPC]
Ensign Kate Hansen - Security Officer [NPC]
Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist
Petty Officer 3rd Class Mark Rinaro - Weapons Specialist [NPC]
Petty Officer 3rd Class Mitchell Mullens - Weapons Specialist [NPC]
Crewman 1st Class Ken Smith - Security Crewman

Location: USS Sulu, Jefferies Tube Junction
Stardate: 57910.19, 20h03

***

The past two days had been quiet for the TAC Team but the silence that fell over Jefferies Tube Junction 4-C had a certain inevitability to it that managed to both deafen the ear and harden the resolve.

One of the captors had finally killed someone.

An engineering officer from the Windsor had beaten a science petty officer to death with a painstick. Her offense was sketchy and for all the men and women hiding in the bowels of the Sulu knew, it could have been outright imagined. Mullens and Rinaro had returned from their time in Sulu population and told the story through tightened jaws and clenched teeth. But when they had finished and when that inevitable silence blanketed over all of them, not even the officers dared to break it. Even Case, who'd seen more in his forty years than he ever cared to remember, only leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his one good eye, his pained expression hidden behind a mask of rage.

"What are we going to do?" Rinaro asked, bristling with a young man's bravado and sense of urgency. He was hardly Shyla Moreau's friend but the idea of the Enforcers killing anyone rankled and mixed with the fair amount of guilt he was already carrying.

Casey stirred at the question. He knew that it would be asked by most of the population of the Sulu. He remembered Shyla Moreau, from Storm's funeral, and he'd liked what he'd seen. The word was that she had been pregnant. You didn't poach pregnant girls...and you certainly didn't kill them. Casey's rage manifested as a determined yet cold expression and a clenched fist that shook. "We do nothing," he said coldly. "Until we can take every single one of them and make them all pay. We know their sleeping arrangements, patrol pattern, and distribution. To seek revenge at this point would be a mistake." He looked at each of the team in turn. "Believe me when I say that I would like nothing better than to kill the animal slowly...but it isn't going to happen until we can take every single one." He looked at Case, then at the rest. "Understood?"

"Sir," Hansen ground out between clenched teeth. She nodded, though she didn't like it, she had to agree. No sense throwing it all away for one death. "When are we going to take these bastards?"

They all looked at Casey then. The Lieutenant smiled grimly. "Soon, Ensign, they have to find a way to neutralize the slave collars some of the crew are wearing. When Commander T'Kal gives the word and not until." He stared at his small unit. "We have what they don't. The will and the discipline to win. While this death is unfortunate, it will bolster the rage of the crew. It will make even the faintest of hearts rise up when the time comes. Let all things be used to the good of the battle plan."

That hung in the air for a few moments before Case asked, "What was his name?" Case was still leaning back against the bulkhead with his one eye closed tight. It was the use of the past tense...what was his name...that made Hansen nod.

"Crix, Chief," Mullens said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "A Trill."

"I could make it look like an accident," Case said definitively, leaving little doubt. The rage had fallen away to reveal the deceptive calm of a different kind of killer. Not one who murdered innocent women or sliced up children but one who dared any able body to raise arms against him or someone in his charge. Case had killed. He had killed plenty. But he had yet to murder anybody.

He opened his eye and looked at Casey. "Say the word. Sir."

"I'd like to, Chief Case, I would. Right now if that thing fell over in plain sight and his neck broke they'd blame it on one of us and maybe someone else just as innocent would die. Now is the time for cool heads and calculated revenge. When the time comes, Chief - he's yours. Just make it slow."

Case didn't say anything but nodded his resolve. He had yet to murder anyone. But if even Crix were kneeling before him with his hands up in surrender, he'd make an exception.

"I hate this waiting. Even if a few people got killed we should retake the ship now." Ken hated sitting in the tubes instead of denying an Enforcer the privilege of seeing the inside of their skull.

"Then what?" Mullens asked Ken. "We run? Without the Captain?"

"Okay, Smith," Hansen sneered, "let's do it! Yeah...let's take on thirty well armed hostiles without a plan and sacrifice a few dozen of the people we live with. Who the hell cares? Yeah? As long as we kill a few bad guys...they're only blue shirts after all...expendable right?" Her face was screwed up in an expression of distaste. "My sister is out there, Dumbass! Our friends are out there...use your head, mate. The Lieutenant is right. We have to wait and take them all and we can't do it alone." She sat back eyeing him evilly.

"The needs of the many," Ken said grimly.

"Stow it, Smith," Case advised, reaching out and rubbing Hansen's shoulder with one hand. "If you're going to take those words to heart, you might remember that Kirk had his own version of them."

With a grumble Ken returned to his previous activity of staring at the wall. They all fell silent for a few moments until Mullens broke it.

"We've got less than three days before the gate," he said, turning to practical matters. He looked at Smith and tried to give a reassuring smile. "It won't be long."

"I just hate being cooped up in here. It's our job to protect them, and what do we do? Cower in here like rats," Ken muttered.

"Crewman Smith," Case said tersely, flashing his one eye at the young man and pulling his tricorder from its hip holster. "Take this to Junction 5-C and track Big Red's patrol route." Case was referring to one of the Enforcers, a hulking human with a red beard.

"Aye, Chief." Ken took the tricorder from Chief Case. "May I ask why?"

"Because yesterday he deviated four times and if he's picking up new habits, I want to know." Case looked at him seriously. "Also, I need you away from this junction for at least an hour or I'm going to shine my boots with your ass."

"Roger that, Chief." Smith took off at a good speed down that path that would, even with his roundabout path, get him to the junction in time.

"Thanks, Chief." Kate Hansen put her head back against the bulkhead. "You're always considerate of a lady's sensibilities..." She gave him a warm smile. Kate didn't often bestow any male with a smile, but Case had proven himself to the girl with the mountainous chip on her shoulder. "That boy has some serious issues...when this is over I think he needs some attitude adjustment."

"Smith's okay," Case used a tone quite at odds with the one he'd used on the Crewman. "He's anxious...we all are."

"The needs of the many..." Lieutenant Casey said quietly from where he sat next to the small LCARS screen in the Jeffries Junction. He looked at Case and Hansen. "I hate being cooped up in here too. There's a Klingon proverb that says: Four thousand throats may be cut in one night by a running man. Patience always pays off. We just have to know when to start running." His smile was wolfish.

"It can't come too soon, sir," Rinaro said quietly from his spot in the junction, his glistening eyes focused on a far off place. He was still thinking about Moreau.

"Don't take it personal, Mark," Mullens advised, laying a hand on his arm. "We were ordered into hiding. It's not our fault."

"It's not that," Rinaro said quietly, his eyes still fixed to a spot on the bulkhead. Something in his voice and his eyes tipped the rest that he was dangerously close to tears.

"What's up?" Kate Hansen asked almost kindly. Her dark eyes looked at him and her lips curled in a slight smile of encouragement. She was getting positively homey with these guys. She relied on them, and for the first time she knew that they relied on her too. They were important to her.. even Smith, even if he did engage his mouth before his brain. "Mark?"

Rinaro moved his lips to speak but hesitated as if the words caused him pain. His eyes wet up even as they stared at the bulkhead. Mullens took his hand off his arm and grabbed his shoulder, giving Mark a questioning look that soon had Rinaro nodding even though no question had been asked.

"He used to badmouth Moreau a little," Mullens said to the rest of them. "Because she had been involved with an officer. Nothing too harsh...it was just..."

"It was childish," Rinaro finished, his voice cracking a little.

"We all say things we don't really mean, Mark." Kate held his eyes for a moment. "Don't think for a minute I'll take back all the shitty things I've said about you already...but it don't mean I won't care any less if something happens to you. None of that crap matters. What matters is what we do about what that bastard did, and how we really feel about the people who wear the uniform. We're in this together, Mark. It doesn't matter what we say, it matters what we do."

Rinaro nodded again and mouthed the word 'thanks' without sound. Case gave it a moment to hang in the air before he glanced at the chronometer and cleared his throat. They all looked at him.

"Go to the access portal and check on Herald," Case said, eyeing Rinaro. "I'm not going to be comfortable until Collins is back in his place."

"Aye, Chief," Rinaro said, swallowing once. He checked a phaser from the open weapons case, holstered it, and went crawling down the tube.

It was going to be a long wait - they all knew it. But intel was trickling in from everywhere. Sorg Jurell was actively gathering data and passing it along and they were building a very accurate picture of the Enforcers right down to who was just doing their jobs and who was being a brutal pig...some of them weren't bad at all - some of them...deserved spacing.

They just had to wait for the signal.

---

"Beauty in the Breakdown"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Corran Quezith - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, CMO's Quarters
Stardate: 57910.19, 20h27

***

Absently wandering into his mother's quarters, dried tears were soaked into Cristobel's skin to match the dried blood soaked into his clothing. Cris couldn't even consider going back to the quarters he had shared with Shyla; returning to his mother's residence was instinctual. Corran had predicted this, though, and waited alone for Cristobel in the darkness of the room.

He stood up as he felt Cristobel's presence come closer. He could see that he was about to stumble over from how exhausted he was, so he reached out to him and caught him immediately, his hands sending a quiet calming energy through the membranes on them. He followed the motion by hugging him tightly.

"I finished my report," Sefton mumbled against the skin of Corran's neck.

Corran said nothing, he just held Cristobel, not moving or calling out for the lights. Things had gone awry since they'd been boarded, and this had just marked it all the more... If only he'd been into security, or if only he had trained with the new protectors back home, maybe he could have done something.

You should sleep... He would've liked Cris to eat something, or talk, but the chances of that were probably zilch.

"I don't think I got it right," Cristobel said apologetically, clutching the PADD in the holster on his hip. His telepathy was introverted so tightly, that he almost hadn't heard Corr's words. He took a step back from Corran, but only because he needed to sit down. He chose the floor directly in front of the sofa. "She helped me, but I still don't think I wrote it accurately. And they need to know. What happened. What the mission was. How we failed. They have to know. I'll forget if I sleep."

They'll want something different from disarray... you should write it later. You won't forget... He doubted anyone could forget something as horrid as what Cristobel had just seen. Shyla first being struck with a spanner, then being bludgeoned to death with a pain stick. How could they let these monsters stay onboard?

He sat down next to Cristobel and took the padd away from him gently, his eyes shifting to green from their deep sorrowful brown.

"But I didn't find a better word for 'paralysis'," Cris objected, reaching lamely for the PADD, but letting his hand flop against Corran's abdomen. "I don't like how it sounds."

Just leave it like that... He set the padd down and took a hold of Cris' hand, following the gesture by resting his cheek against his head.

Snaking his other arm around Corran's bicep, Cristobel desperately murmured, "Mo dhia, Corran, what am I supposed to do? There's too much time. Every thought is sequential. Every second of it repeat repeat repeats in my memory. Everything is taking too long. I knew things were temporal anomalicious, but I didn't know time moved slower in this universe."

Well, it doesn't... He sighed softly, picking up on tension onboard the ship, trying not to touch any of the crew's mind. When he had earlier, he'd been just in time to feel Shyla's death and everything that had happened around her... These beasts weren't any different from the people that existed in their own universe, it was simply that they'd been brought up in horrendous ways.

He hugged Cristobel warmly and kissed his forehead. We'll get out of this soon... I think... So much for reassuring.

"Shyla won't get out of it," Cristobel bluntly asserted. "She never finished Sa Jean's Libration. She'll never know how it ends."

You don't know that... Corran had taken to believing there was an afterlife since he'd started exploring the galaxy, and he believed it more and more each day. It wasn't just to make Cris feel better.

And she did get out of it. She was ill, Cris, we both knew that... I don't mean to justify the bastard that killed her, but this was merciful by comparison...

"No. It wasn't," Cristobel said forcefully. "She had no active symptoms from the Kelway's. She was fine, and even if she wasn't, she should have died in Sickbay, blissed out on medication, and surrounded by the people she loved. Not as the terrified victim of an act of such violence. I always... I always forgot that she was going to die. I knew it, but I'd still forget. That's what let us get on so well, right from the start. The last thing she ever wanted was for people to care more about her death than her life."

Corran chose to remain silent, unwilling to speak or think another word. He didn't know what to do and was even starting to doubt having come here in the first place...

"What? I'm an inconvenience?" Cristobel blurted incredulously.

I just don't know what to say, Cris. Corran was growing physically stiffer by the minute as he tensed due to the situation. It felt awkward to be here... I just see death differently.

With more weight to his words than he intended, Cristobel pleaded, "Enlighten me." Still incredulous that he even needed to tell Corran as such, he said, "I don't expect you to measure your words. Just say what you feel."

I can't do anything for her now, and being enraged or feeling that I have to take revenge for her death, I chose to be satisfied that she won't suffer any longer. Back home it's painful, more painful than you or others here would ever know, to feel someone's death - it's a consequence of our community, but we deal with it, we learn to move on and take the best we can from the loss of a person.

It sounded much colder than it really was, but Corran sent images of natural deaths on Achicar that had been particularly loud in the minds of his people... he even showed him a few from when he'd been treating patients on the orbital stations after the war. It was depressing, painful, it brought a plethora of horrid feelings with it, but they tried to move on.

She doesn't need us to feel anything for her right now, on the other hand, her child does, as does the rest of the crew. I can do something for them, maybe, but not for her, and punishing the man who killed her would achieve very little considering the world he comes from.

"I'm not enraged; I just hurt inside. I don't want to punish Crix. Dhia, violence or death to Crix is the last thing Shyla would have wanted. She valued all life -- even Crix's. And so do I." The perfect clarity that fueled his words began to falter, as his emotions began to rapidly rip the words from his throat in desperation. "I just...don't know how to cope with having felt her death. It's like her death in my head has bled into every memory I have of her. I can't seem to remember the good, without seeing her bleeding. My community never taught me how to deal with this."

It was enough. Corran broke through the barrier he'd wrapped around his own mind and slowly slipped into Cris' mind. He set his hands on his back, one on his lower back, the other between his shoulderblades. It brought them physically and emotionally closer, and suddenly, the deep darkness of the room disappeared and they were on a grassy field.

The wind blew gently across the field. A few trees stood around them in the distance. The sun and clouds stood in the sky calmly, warmly. Corran let go of Cris so he could take a look around them.

"Where are we?" Cristobel asked, disoriented. He looked from Corran to straight up at the sky. It was too bright to see the stars.

"Home, or what you call home." Corran gestured off in the distance, where blue mountains rose in the distance. The difference was that there were no people, just plants and animals, and peace.

Cristobel had to lopsidedly smile, despite himself. Overwhelmed by Corran's telepathic warmth, he teased, "What I call home, usually looks more beige and grey and industrial."

"Oh, hush." He stuck his tongue out at Cristobel, but gestured to a patch of grass that was further in the distance. Something flickered, and then she appeared. Shyla glanced back, smiled at Cristobel, then faded as she stood up as if to run off across the fields.

Sefton shakily grabbed for Corran's arm. "What are you doing?" Cris asked, his voice quavering.

"People keep asking me how exactly my telepathy's changed... you knew me before, not so much this time around...and that's because this is some of what I can see. I'm not sure, yet, if I only imagine these images..." He gestured at the spot where Shyla last stood. "But I saw many more back home when I was there. It's like an echo, or...more... I still don't know."

It could just have been Corran's imagination running wild after all, but he hoped Cristobel could see how special it was...

"That's...hunh," Cristobel muttered his fascination, despite his sluggish mind barely grasping what was occurring in the telepathic environment surrounding him.

Corran picked up on his confusion, so he tried to pull Cris further into the illusion. The illusion shifted and the planet disappeared beneath them. They were surrounded by gentle currents, swift ones, violent ones, but currents of thought and energy. Corran vanished physically, but took Cris' hand invisibly and guided him to one of the currents. It was a faint current, and it was moving away from them little by little.

He thought it was Shyla, even hoped it was her...

"Corran... Don't. I can't...do this. Not yet," Cristobel stuttered. Quietly, he commanded, "Stop." And the telepathic imagery shattered away, leaving the pair on the floor of Damhnait Sefton's quarters. Cristobel began to crumple into a fetal position, drenching himself in fresh tears, and Corran was quick to take him in his arms.

---

"All Dressed Up, and Nowhere To Go"

Lieutenant Benjamin Talltree; Medical Officer
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Ensign Raina Derrell; Medical Officer
'Captain' Tebrianne Bancroft

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.19 21h23

***

Xayella Tagliesh raised her head, and stray teardrops rolled from her reddened eyes, dribbling off the apple of a blue, discoloured cheek. Her scraped knees were bent over the edge of the biobed to dangle her stockinged legs, which now sported tattered holes and frayed tears that attested her struggle, as did the single shoe that had gone missing from her foot, leaving it unshod. The once flattering red dress that had fetched her much attention at the party was now in shambles - her left hand remained cupping her right bosom where the strap had been torn away and the fabric now draped.

>From beneath the skirt, hem resting now gathered around her hips, her bare thighs were made fully visible; in her frantic haste, she had thought to return her undergarment to its correct position, where it now grew stained with blood. Pantyhose remained still bunched at her knees to complete the startling image of a woman violated.

As Raina Derrell stopped before her, Xayella passed the back of her hand across her cheek to wipe the tears, and smudged her painful-looking bruise in the process. She glanced down at the imprint left on her hand, then chuckled at Raina. "Looks like we'd better get started."

This wasn't something Raina was doing because it was easy. In fact far from it. Her reasons for agreeing to this at all had to do with her intense dislike of the Enforcers and their ways. Recent days had been hard but tonight would be the most difficult of all. "Yeah, let's get this over with." Raina carefully began to work on Xayella, fully aware that she could make she evidence far too believable.

Xay dropped her hand away from the dress and let the top fold back to expose her right breast. "Maybe some scratches and bruises," she suggested, nodding to it. "We'll need to get my cheek good and swelled, too. Hurry, we haven't much time."

The Emergency Medical Officer worked as quickly as possible. "You won't recognize yourself when I'm finished." It didn't take her much longer to accomplish what they set out to.

For good measure, Xayella tousled her hair and stretched a section of hose taut to stab a new hole with her fingernail, all while Raina finished the welts on her thighs. "The poor bastard," she whispered humourously. "He thought he was going to have the best night of his life; all he'll get is the worst headache he's ever had when he wakes up."

Even though Raina knew what this was for she still had a difficult time listening to the joy in Xayella's voice when the words left her mouth. Only because she wished there had been another way to deal with those ugly Enforcers and because the last thing she wanted to deal with was more deaths because of their handiwork.

"I think we're almost done," Xayella noted as she looked herself over, then gasped and reached into her undergarment. With a grin, she pulled out a small vial containing a thick, white fluid. "Almost forgot about the most important part. Hope you don't mind." Xayella slid down her undergarment and lay back upon the biobed, after handing Raina the vial. "Make it good," she muttered. Taking a deep breath, she parted her legs.

Raina had purposely pulled her emotions away from the equation. Concentrating on her job and acting the doctor she was trained to be. These last additions to the picture were necessary but got to her on a personal level if she thought about it too much. "That should do it."

Xayella cleared her throat and sat up once more. She stared at Raina in silence, seeking fortitude in the doctor's eyes to carry through with the next, most important part of the ruse, but she knew that for Matt and the ship, she would do it without hesitation. "Alright," she sighed, "clean up, and send the doctor in."

Raina wondered why Xayella looked at her. "I'll be fine. Believe me when I say I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't think it was a very good cause."

Quickly she cleaned up so there was no sign of what had just transpired within the walls of sickbay. Once that was finished it didn't take Raina long to make the appropriate call.

Doctor Talltree hurried into the private exam room, his eyes alert. He stopped, taking Tagliesh in visually as he opened his tricorder. "Tell me what happened," he said simply, his voice gentle, his gaze now on his tricorder screen.

Tagliesh, playing the tortured victim, sobbed at Talltree and clutched the ragged bosom of her dress to conceal herself. "I-It happened so fast..... I-I don't even remember how it started. He asked me to his room and then he just...." Her voice regressed to a whimper and she wept convulsively, seeking to bury her face into Raina's chest.

Talltree considered his tricorder for a few moments, then looked at Derrell for a long time. "You know what you're doing, I hope," he said softly, looking at Derrell but talking to both women.

Xayella peeked up at the old man and challenged him with a glare. "That bastard enforcer certainly did!" she spat, quickly assuming her role once more. "He...he forced me!" Xayella raved. "I-I went there...and he tore at my clothes and--" She sputtered and sobbed again into Raina's jacket.

Raina simply stood there, not saying a word. When this plan had first been presented to her she'd voiced her objections but somberly relented when it appeared Xayella would go through with it, whether the Emergency Medical Officer helped or not.

Talltree seemed to regard Derrell's silence as a satisfactory answer, and turned to Tagliesh. "Rumor has it you and Captain Salinger were in a relationship. Yes?"

"We still are," she replied soberly and with a touch of venom. "Why do you ask?"

"Just making sure I understand," Talltree smiled, the look in his eyes saying he did, in fact, understand. He tapped his commbadge.

"Sickbay to Captain Bancroft," he said, his voice suddenly dark. His eyes never left Tagliesh.

"Tebrianne here," came the response.

"Doctor Talltree here. There appears to have been another incident. I'd advise you to come down right away."

There was a hesitation on the other end, a dread-filled pause. "On my way," Tebrianne finally answered. "Out."

It wasn't easy, though Raina managed a professional outward appearance of utter calm. Nothing but a highly trained Starfleet officer and her training in emergency medicine came through. In many ways it was rather chilling just to see Raina Derrell in that mode so completely, something she had not felt a need to fully adopt since her departure from Yassir Colony many years ago. Underneath all that was someone who had endured what Xayella now chose to put herself through. Seething at the very thought of it, yet none of that showed in her demeanor now. No one would ever know what this moment meant for Raina, except for those who truly knew the medical officer.

---

"Can of Worms"

Lt. Brennyn Scott, RN - Chief Counselor
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
Lt. Benjamin Talltree - Medical Officer
Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer

Location: Bree's quarters; Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.19 22h23

***

The notice she'd received from Benjamin was fairly straightforward. There had been another 'incident' between an Enforcer and a member of the crew. Under the circumstances, Talltree felt her presence was necessary.

Scott shivered even as she pulled the thick navy robe tighter around her. She cast an uneasy glance toward her rumpled bed, with its twisted sheets and blankets half-way on the floor, quiet evidence of just how uneasy she'd been of late. As she ran her hand through her hair and made sure one last time she was somewhat presentable despite the late hour, in the back of her mind she wondered if Talltree was going to tell her someone else had been killed.

The part of her that was simply Brennyn Scott wondered how she would handle more bad news even as the part of her that was Counselor Scott reminded her that she would do exactly what was necessary. Shyla Moreau was gone... Her brutal murder went beyond horrifying, beyond pain, beyond grief. She had known Shyla, perhaps in some ways better than anyone else. Helping her overcome Ethan's death and learn to cope with raising a baby alone had been hard work for Moreau. But in the last few weeks Brennyn had begun to see signs of the old Shyla, and now...

The doors to sickbay swished open and although startled at first, Bree became all business. Now was not the time to dwell on matters which she could do nothing about. Seeing Talltree, she quickened her step. "What is it, Benjamin?"

Scott nodded once to Raina. Was it her imagination or did Derrell look pale?

Raina was beyond tired. In fact she was currently running on autopilot. Anything else required too much effort and energy. "Counselor," the medical officer returned Scott's greeting rather quickly.

"While it's certainly not a particularly good evening at this point," Talltree said, looking at his monitor screen rather than Scott, "Good evening."

Bree's puzzled expression was all the prompt Talltree needed. He slid a PADD in Scott's direction and watched her skin grow as pale as Derrell's...

***

Xayella's eyes followed the young nurse closely as she tended to the last of her bruises. The dermal regenerator whirred and warbled as it was passed over her knee, upon which the blonde woman's gaze was firmly planted. Sighing wearily, Xayella slipped her hands behind her head as she reclined on the biobed, and closed her eyes.

The night had been a long, eventful one and remaining in character throughout the examination, and close scrutiny of Captain Bancroft, had taken much out of her. At least she had convinced Tebrianne that she truly was raped by one of her enforcers, and no doubt the man was already in the brig, suffering for his supposed crime.

There was no regret in doing what she had done, only a sense of justice and redemption. He deserved his fate, and the other enforcers would soon meet theirs as well. Xayella smirked. Serves them right...

"Okay, Lieutenant, you're all fixed up." Nurse Crowe smiled tautly. "You should rest."

"Alright," Xayella sighed, and blindly reached down to pull the bedcover over her exposed leg. She groped for the end, came up empty, and finally opened her eyes with a curse of agitation. When she did, she swore again, this time under her breath. Of all the people on board that might visit her, she had never expected the woman standing before her. In fact, she hoped this moment could have been avoided....

"Counsellor Scott," she greeted quietly, knowing again she must assume the role of victim.

"Xay," breathed Bree, concern clearly in her eyes. "I came as soon as I heard... You understand why I was called?"

"I believe I do," she answered, and sighed disconsolately. Xayella sat upright for the counsellor, catching the sheet before it fell away and gathering it protectively against her. "I really am fine," she insisted sincerely. "The doctors do good work."

"I'm sure they do," Scott nodded agreeably. "I was told you would have to stay the night." She scratched her forehead. "I didn't want you to be alone right now and I thought you might need something. We don't have to talk about it, but it must be a lot to take in..."

Xayella chewed her lip, giving her a troubled appearance, but truly only serving to suppress a grin. "Well...it certainly has been an eventful evening," she agreed. "And I'm pretty resilient...so I really will be fine, Counsellor. You needn't trouble yourself with my mental health."

Bree smiled wanly. "But then what would I do with myself?" She knew Xay was in denial, not allowing herself to acknowledge what had happened to her. "It wouldn't be crazy, you know, to feel numb right now. He threatened your life, Xay."

"He just wanted my body," she answered dismissively. "I doubt I was in any danger, really."

It wasn't the angry response she anticipated and since this was Tagliesh she was dealing with, that set off all sorts of alarm bells for Bree. These were normal responses given the circumstances, but definitely indicators that Xay was most definitely not fine. "He beat you within an inch of your life when you resisted. I know you did what you needed to in order to survive."

"And I will continue to do so," Xayella insisted, "without the need of a counsellor. Now...I'm really tired. Can I rest?"

She nodded and turned to leave, but at the last moment turned back. "I don't plan on going home for awhile, so I'll be right here and will probably come by to check vitals later. If you need anything, just let me know. I expect you'll be sore for awhile, so if you'd like meds or have questions, it's not a problem." She paused, considering her parting words carefully. "This wasn't your fault, Xay."

She gritted her teeth, wondering in frustration if the counsellor's concern was a ploy, or if she had blindly fallen for the ruse. For once, Xayella's conscience nudged her, reproving her for propagating the lie by exploiting the counsellor's concern. She sighed and rolled her eyes as she called Brennyn back. "Have a seat, Counsellor," she muttered. "There's probably something you should know..."

Bree frowned, but did as she asked and took a seat. "What is it?"

She shrugged, keeping her gaze on Bree to gauge her reaction. "Well...what do you think happened to me, Counsellor?"

Now Bree was doing nothing to hide her surprise. "What do you mean what do I think? I saw the report and reviewed the pictures before I came in here. It's obvious. You were beaten...and raped by an Enforcer."

Xayella smiled, an ever-growing curve of her lips and a slowly rising chuckle. "And everything in my demeanour would seem to validate that?"

Bree was beginning to feel a cold hard knot forming in the pit of her stomach and when she spoke it was with the hardest edge she could manage without yelling. "Are you telling me that isn't what happened, that you would lie about something like this, that you would possibly think of pretending that such a thing happened?"

"I have said no such thing," Xayella corrected. "I asked you a question." She leaned forward, peering levelly at the counsellor. "Did you, or did you not believe I was raped?"

"I did," Scott retorted. "I told you. I read the report. You had internal tears and bruising, another man's semen inside of you. Not to mention the fact that you had external bruises and scrapes consistent with rape and you admitted that's what happened."

Xayella nodded approvingly. "Thank you, Counsellor. That's precisely what I wanted to hear."

"Now tell me this," Bree replied, "and answer me honestly this time without hedging. Were you raped, Xayella?"

"The doctor's examination indicates that I was," she answered, smiling. "That's all that matters, Counsellor."

Smiling. Xay was smiling over being... "No," and Scott felt sick to her stomach, "that's not all that matters, not to me. I'm sure Dr. Talltree will be very pleased." Bree stared at her intently, as if trying to find the punchline for this very sick joke. And then she remembered the look on Raina's face. "You have no idea the can of worms you've just opened, Xayella, no idea. I hope it was worth it. Thanks ever so much for wasting my time."

"Touchy, touchy, Counsellor," Xayella muttered. "Thanks for coming!" she called to her before the counsellor stormed from the alcove.

For the life of her, Xayella couldn't figure out what had the counsellor so troubled. She snorted and reclined on the bed once more. "For the good of the ship... And their unmitigated hatred?" Xayella closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "Thanks, Farrell," she murmured somberly.

---