"Meeting of the Minds"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft

Location: Conference Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.26, 09h00

***

Tebrianne was the first to arrive in the conference room, only a few minutes earlier than the others. She looked around, remembering. How many times had she had a chance to visit the identical room on the Windsor, on her Windsor not the alternate one. It'd been far too few times before she'd been swept away into an alternate dimension of pain and suffering. Now, she stood in an Intrepid-class conference room again, though this time she wore no uniform. The crew didn't trust her enough yet, and she knew that if she were to put on the uniform she'd worn five years prior, it would cause a stir among the crew.

It hurt, to be rejected by her own people. They no longer saw her as one of them, but an outsider, an enemy. Now she was stuck in between both this universe and the other, allied to neither, enemy to both. At least her family would accept her, welcome her, and not cast her aside.

She moved and sat in one of the chairs to the side of the table, knowing there she wouldn't be in anyone's way. The captain would be at the head of the table, and Ben and Commander Lyrr would probably be on the other side. She nervously smoothed her hands over the skirt she wore. Seeing him again, it would hurt. The captain had asked for the meeting though, so she wouldn't deny it, couldn't deny it. Soon she'd be on her way home and she could get out of her holding pattern and try to rebuild her life again.

The sound of the door at the end of the room opening pulled Tebrianne out of her thoughts. She quickly focused on her hands, resting on the surface of the table, when she saw Ben and Lyrr enter the room.

The Commander's step visibly faltered when her gaze fell upon Tebrianne. She'd been smiling about something Ben had said, but all trace of humour drained away and the commander's usually stoic expression came into place. "Ms. Bancroft," she greeted flatly, glanced at Ben, then proceeded to the opposite side of the table.

"Commander," Tebrianne said with a nod. She glanced toward Ben, then quickly looked away, seeking anything that might be able to draw her focus.

Benedict still smiled, remaining oblivious to the looks between the two women. He did see Tebrianne look his way for a fraction of a second before she turned away again. That killed his smile. He sat beside Lyrr opposite Tebrianne and felt the tension in the air then as if it thickened between the three of them the closer they got. Salinger wasn't present and it left an awkward silence for a moment. He could feel Tebrianne's mood; and he knew that he was the root cause of it.

He sat back and made an effort to not fidget by placing his hands in his lap, but he glanced at her across the table before looking at Tayla. She was staring intently at Tebrianne.

"I received the Captain's report," Lyrr told her from across the table. "What will you do when you reach Earth?"

Benedict looked back at Tebrianne, waiting for her response. His face held no hint of emotion now. He couldn't afford to give away the sense of loss that he felt, and shared with her.

"I haven't really thought that far ahead yet," Teb answered, keeping her focus on her hands. "I'm sure Starfleet Command will want to talk to me. After that, I may try to find another ship if anyone will 'ave me. From the looks I've been getting, I'm not sure. If Starfleet doesn't work out, I may track down the girls and see if they're interested in re-forming the Brats. And... and I want to spend some time with my family." She wished she could kick herself for it, but the words and thought brought her gaze up to find Benedict, but then she quickly pushed it away.

Lyrr nodded slowly, a puzzled expression crossing her features and remaining there upon mention of the Brats. It was clear indication of how she felt about such things. "Well... visiting family is good." Then she gradually turned her head away to survey the room.

For a moment he looked in Teb's eyes. She'd looked at him when she spoke of family and it was another twist of the knife of guilt he was feeling. He couldn't say anything that wouldn't betray his emotions and so he sat motionless and silent, but his eyes did betray him for that moment of contact.

Before the moment could become any more tense, the door opened and Matt Salinger strode into the room. He wasn't certain, but he thought he heard the trio in the room let out a collective sigh of relief at his arrival. He gave them a smile and moved to his customary place at the head of the table. "Sorry I was late," he explained as he set a stack of padds in front of him. "Lieutenant Flummux happened to come by a couple new holo-programs that he hadn't been able to show me before now. I didn't have the heart to tell him that the programs just aren't as interesting while still residing within the chip. I agreed to meet with him tomorrow to check them out. Anyone who'd like is welcome to join us."

"I might just be busy then," Lyrr answered humorously.

Benedict had used Salinger's entrance to divert his eyes away from Tebrianne and he smiled at the captain. The amount of damage to the ship and specifically the weapons and sensor systems precluded Benedict from most non-duty related activities; probably for the next week at least. He could bury himself in work and he had every intention of doing so. "Sorry, sir," he shook his head, "repairs," he explained.

At the look of confusion from Tebrianne, Matt chuckled. "Very well," he said. "I'll meet with Grixble on my own. I'll let you know if there is anything applicable to your respective fields. You never know, he may have happened upon a new tactical training simulation." He glanced at Tebrianne, then back to the others. He could sense the tension in the air, see it in their faces. At least that would be ending soon with Tebrianne's departure from the ship.

Hoping to shift the tensions in the room, and get everyone thinking of other things, Matt quickly laid out his plan for integrating the former Windsor crew into Sulu work shifts. "So," he continued, "what we'll need for you to do is look over the crew we have in the brig, figure out who you believe will be suitable for working amongst us here, and talk to them about it. Is that something you feel yourself able to do?"

Tebrianne kept her attention focused on the captain, and nodded. "Yes, sir," she said. "I'm pretty sure there are some who might like the opportunity for a second chance." Matt handed her a padd and she took it. After scanning through the list, she set it down. "Dublai and Clarion would be my first choices."

Matt glanced aside to his executive officer and security chief. "Thoughts?"

"They were not members of T'briane's elite guard," Lyrr mentioned, scrolling through the list of names on her own padd. "I see that Dublai was trained as an engineer." She nodded. "Good. The ship's damage was indirectly and partly her responsibility by association alone; she can help repair it. As for Clarion..." She looked aside at T'Kal. "Your department."

Benedict frowned. "I knew the real Clarion," he said. "She's a nice girl, but this Clarion...I don't know. I'd like to think that there are a lot of similarities between them. Enough to make this Clarion a suitable addition to the crew, but I think she'd be more suited to engineering than security. I don't want any of them in any kind of security capacity." He looked up at Salinger. "That would definitely send the wrong message to the crew. We're going to have them supervised during their future work assignments. We're shorthanded enough without taking someone off repairs just to double check everything that they do. How long are they going to remain secured in quarters?"

"I anticipate perhaps a week, maybe two," Matt said. "Between orientations and interviews."

"It would be more appropriate considering the mood of the crew to make it two maybe three," Benedict replied. He looked between Tayla and Matt Salinger. "It will give them some time to get used to the idea and to get past the funeral services. The crew need time to adjust to this, Captain."

"I suggest we at least begin training sessions," Lyrr proposed. "Keeping them locked in quarters will be no different from confinement in the brig. They will resent us, become potentially stir-crazy, and we could very likely miss our chance to gain their loyalty and confidence."

"We train them before we are able to assess them?" T'Kal asked. "Under the circumstances they are hostile, invading forces that took our ship and brutalised our crew. I understand what you are trying to achieve, but they should be able to withstand confinement in officers' quarters for the duration of their assessments. Otherwise we come off looking soft and they'll take advantage of that. They deserve punishment, not coddling. I don't want anyone on this ship thinking we're bending over backwards to make them comfortable."

"Commander, please curb your anger," Lyrr advised quietly, with only a mildly quelling smile. "Pending clearance by Counsellor Scott and ourselves, all the former enforcers shall remain confined to quarters. But what of those who prove ready to serve ahead of the others? Do we continue to punish them for the crimes of their colleagues even then? That is outright persecution, Commander T'Kal - as Starfleet officers it isn't something we practice."

"I'm not talking about persecution, Commander," he addressed Lyrr in carefully modulated tones. "We need to be careful. If Commander Bancroft can fool them for five years into trusting her and then change sides to stab them in the back, so can they. We need to make sure that they respect our authority in ways they understand and in doing so re-educate them. Spending a few weeks in confinement won't harm them if they see that we are genuine in our attempt to facilitate their trust. At the same time, we dare not appear soft, or too lenient in their punishment. They are not sterling officers brought up with Federation ideals and we cannot afford to treat them in that way. Consideration must be given to the mood of the crew and an acknowledgement of their suffering under these very people must be achieved. Letting those ready to serve out of confinement too early will result in resentment. That does our crew nor the prisoners any good at all."

"Of all the Windsor crew," Tebrianne said as she fidgeted with the padd, "I think Kirsha and Remica are best suited for this. Kirsha has violent tendencies, but what Andorian doesn't? But, even so...they're not sadists. I think this sort of peace offering will go far with them, but not with some of the others. I'll 'ave to study the list further. I'll prepare something for you before I leave the ship with the Nightingale."

"Thank you," Salinger said. "For the time being, those released will be kept in quarters. They'll be assessed, trained, interviewed, and all that, and we'll have another meeting like this to determine if they're ready and if our crew is ready to be open-minded about this. Morale may be an issue, but being forced to work double shifts to make up for the lack of crew isn't going to improve morale. As it is, Markham and Marp are going to be working eight on, eight off for the foreseeable future, at least until we can get a qualified pilot trained up to flight control standards."

"I agree they will be of great assistance," Lyrr said. "And I'm not dismissing what Lieutenant Commander T'Kal's saying, either. His reservations were my own when you initially proposed this, Captain, and I imagine much of the crew shares them as well. Counselling is one option... but perhaps speaking personally to each department might help to assuage any fears."

"I agree with that," Matt said. "And approve. And, we're not on any set schedule. All of this will happen when we feel the time is right. We're just starting on the path now. We can't establish a definitive timetable because we don't know how long the process will take. Your reservations are noted, Ben, and the well-being of the crew is at the top of our list of priorities. And, we're not rushing into this as much as you believe. We're getting started, and when they're released to the crew will all depend on a number of factors we won't be able to assess until the time comes. But, I assure you they will be assessed, and you will have a part in saying whether they and the ship are ready."

Benedict nodded. "Thank you, sir." He looked at Tayla and shared a slight smile.

"I may be exceedingly compassionate," Matt said with a grin, "but I also have a responsibility to this ship and crew." He looked between the three. "Is there anything else?"

Benedict shook his head and glanced at Tebrianne for a moment before turning back to Lyrr, waiting for her to acknowledge the dismissal and deferring to her rank.

Lyrr sighed and shook her head. "I'd better get back to my quarters before M'lira learns I'm not there." She smiled at Matt. "Same goes for you."

"Very well," Matt said. "Don't want the good doctor upset with me. Tebrianne, see about releasing both Kirsha and Remica if they are interested in this deal. Take them to your quarters while security and ops prepare quarters for them. And, Ben, have security ready and standing by, just in case. Dismissed."

"Aye, sir," Benedict replied and left to return to the Bridge.

Tebrianne glanced between Salinger and Lyrr, then quickly stood and headed toward the door. At least with Ben focused on his duty, back at his duty station, she wouldn't need to confront him. It was bad enough she felt his every feeling, to look into his eyes would only compound the matter. She knew he loved her, knew he didn't want her to leave, and knew that his next thought was always about Lyrr.

She could feel them when they were together, and thankfully their convalescence had kept them from too much passion. She could only hope she'd leave the ship before she'd feel them together again. Just let me escape with what's left of my sanity, she thought as she reached the door. She paused briefly, and then slipped out through the door before it could close on her.

Lyrr remained seated, watching to ensure privacy. She glanced aside at Matt and nodded towards where Tebrianne had once been. "Do you trust her implicitly?"

"I trust Commander T'Kal's assessment of her," Matt said. "And, I know she risked her life to save me. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "I know she saved you...but I've learned to become very wary of any woman formerly involved with Ben. They somehow turn out to be quite insane." Lyrr chuckled and finally lifted out of her seat. "I imagine I'm being paranoid...but I really don't want to become a target for some scorned woman's revenge...again."

"From what I've read of Cathy Page, the difference between her and Tebrianne is that Tebrianne knows when hope is gone," Matt said. "Though, I can't imagine it must be easy for her. She was trapped in that universe for five years, clinging to the hope that he'd rescue her, and then when he finally did he'd given up on her and moved on with his life. Still, I don't know if you have anything to worry from her...she can't even look him in the eye."

Lyrr looked as if she would become sick when she answered, "It's not her looks I worry about. It's the ones he gives her when he thinks I'm not watching that trouble me." She smirked. "But I'm not about to become the jealous girlfriend. And besides, she won't be here for long. I think I can abide her for a little while longer."

"As soon as we get to a location where Zareb can take his ship and go, she'll be gone. And, you won't have to worry about any looks."

She inclined her head at Matt and said, "A delightful prospect." Then finally she departed.

Matt watched her leave, and then decided he should probably get himself back to his quarters before M'lira found him. He picked up his padds and exited, wondering just how well this little project would work out. As long as security was in place, they'd be fine. As long as security stayed vigilant, they wouldn't be surprised. And, hopefully the Windsor crew would appreciate being treated like people, rather than objects, as a part of a team rather than an obstacle to be overcome or eliminated. Perhaps, with teamwork, they'd all make it out of this better than they started...

---

"Paying Reparations"
by Commander Lyrr Tayla
and Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: USS Sulu, Main Engineering
Stardate: 57910.26, 09h55

***

She wondered how many of the eyes following her through the corridor knew of her illness and were merely gawking at the oddity who had cheated death twice in so many months, and how many were spies recruited by Dr. M'lira to ensure she wasn't opposing her enforced bed rest. Considering the Caitian doctor wasn't storming the corridor with a security team and shackles, Lyrr figured it was the former and tipped her head at the nearest officer in acknowledgement.

It had been only been two full days since her release from sickbay, and Sam seemed to have things under control, but the ship still required massive repairs, ones that would delay the continuation of their mission by at least a week. The doctor expected Lyrr to remain in her quarters, lifting not a single finger to exert herself, until they were prepared to get underway, but the inactivity would undoubtedly drive her mad.

There was Cathy Page's memory and all she had revealed to Lyrr that remained to be dealt with; she was unwilling to do that just yet, and an unoccupied mind would force her to confront everything before she was ready. That gave her no choice but to defy Dr. M'lira's orders and work. But, she also had a promise to keep...

Engineering was bustling, the center of activity involving Sulu's reparation process. The best place to be if Lyrr wished to participate. It wasn't difficult to track down the operation's overseer, not when his booming voice carried easily over the organized din. She crossed engineering to reach him, and smiled to disguise the fact that the short trek had winded her slightly.

He was hunched over a console, punching in repair sequences, and she watched him with amusement, but more so, admiration. Lt. Thaine was a remarkable man once you got past the surly, coarse exterior he presented to everyone. But, Lyrr had seen the man who was passionate about his work, and who smiled when no one was looking. He may be strict to demand perfection among his staff, but Lyrr didn't doubt that he cared about each and every one of those officers under his authority, enough so that he wanted them to perform to the best of their abilities and nothing less. That desire always made for the greatest of leaders, and Lyrr was certain Thaine would be one of those someday soon. But not if he shouted himself into an aneurysm. Though, that seemed more than likely as he plunged into another fit of good-intentioned censure.

Mid-way through his tirade, Thaine straightened and whirled abruptly in the same motion to address the entire room, making Lyrr the unfortunate recipient. She winced to deflect the deafening bellow unintendedly aimed full-force at her, and smiled tightly at Thaine when he cut himself off.

To his credit, the engineer recovered remarkably well, off balance for a mere moment. "Alright, back to work!" he ordered, and the few engineers who had been the intended receivers of his rant hurried away, leaving the Chief Engineer alone with the First Officer. "Commander," Thaine acknowledged her formally, but with genuine warmth in his baritone voice. "Good to see you back on your feet."

"And ready to work," she announced, gesturing to her uniform. "I take partial responsibility for all this damage, so hand me a toolkit, and I'll patch her up good as new."

Thaine's brow furrowed visibly as he thought back to their exchange over the comm-link, in their recent (and almost fatal) escape from disaster. "I wasn't serious," he finally conceded, though from the look on his face it seemed more like he hadn't expected her to call his bluff.

Lyrr smiled in challenge. "I was. And besides, I'm not allowed on the bridge for more than an hour at a time. If I can't be there, helping out down here is just as good." Appraising the stunned look blanching his face, Lyrr added, "Unless you don't want me here..."

"No, no," the engineer responded. "Anyone who's prepared to fix what they broke is good in my book. Tool kits are down there." He paused, as if hesitant. "You any good with ODN fibres?"

Lyrr surreptitiously chewed her bottom lip, then smiled and nodded briskly. "Anything you ask, Lieutenant." She held up a finger and warned, "Just until I'm officially on active duty again, of course. Then, I'm the one giving the orders." Lyrr smiled teasingly and moved off to retrieve her kit. "So, how are your people holding up?" She tapped open the sliding panel to reveal the kits. "Emotionally, I mean."

"Better than most do," replied Thaine, grabbing a tool kit of his own. "A lot of us served in the war." That sentence alone held a wealth of explanation, despite Thaine's gaze refusing to meet Lyrr's as he said it. "As for the ones who didn't...they're holding out. Some of the more experienced crew have taken a few under their wings. You know how it works."

Lyrr smiled wanly, thinking of her own past. "I certainly do, Lieutenant." She slid the kit's strap over her shoulder and face Thaine with a ready smile. "While you show me my first task...I'd like to know your opinion on the Captain's latest move. You should know how much I value it by now...I hope."

Thaine paused, warily. "You're talking about releasing those...enforcers, aren't you?"

"Not all...and not immediately," she answered. "But...basically, yes."

"I make it a point not to question that Captain's orders," said the engineer, as he turned to lead the way to the nearest access port. "And I don't really see what my opinion's got to do with it."

"I just said I value it," Lyrr exclaimed, but in a moderated tone. "Though, your ambiguous reply is answer enough." She caught up to his long strides and walked abreast Thaine. "I was the same way - I thought it would only bring trouble. But with appropriate screening and psychological assessments, we might just find ourselves some more valuable officers. And," she added, "since some will likely be joining your department, I really would like to know what you think."

"I don't like it," said Thaine, as he entered a command on the wall panel, causing the access port to open with a hiss. "It's not too far along here," he explained. "No climbing, just a bit of crawling. Still up to this?"

"After that answer?" Lyrr nodded seriously. "Of course." She sat on the edge of the opening, cocked an eyebrow at Thaine to avert his eyes, then turned onto her knees and scooted herself inside. Crawling only far enough to give Thaine space for entry, Lyrr rested on her haunches with her back to the stunted wall. She waited for Thaine to close the hatch before telling him, "There are plans to assign one of them to your department - an Andorian by the name of Kirsha Dublai."

Thaine didn't comment, but the disapproving frown was explanation enough. "We'll talk when we get there," he finally said, as the engineer crawled past her. "Let's just get to the ODN junction."

Lyrr took the engineer's cue and dropped to all fours once again, crawling behind him this time. They progressed through the Jefferies tube in silence, save for the clanking of boots, hands, and knees hitting the grating, as well as Lyrr's breath coming faster and heavier the further along they travelled. Catherine Page's virus had ravaged her body, but she was certain her health and stamina would return soon enough.

At the ODN junction, Thaine stopped and knelt before the access panel. With a single tug, he pulled the cover free and set it aside. Lyrr sat beside him and unshouldered her kit to relieve one burden, then passed the sleeve of her jacket across her forehead to dry the perspiration. She smiled at Thaine as she opened her kit flat onto the deck plating. "Ready?" she asked, slightly short of breath.

The engineer gave her a look of concern. "You sure you're up to this?"

Lyrr rolled her eyes and slapped a spanner into his hand. "You're sounding like Dr. M'lira," she muttered. "I'm not ill any longer, Lieutenant. I just...won't be my normally energetically domineering self for a while yet." Taking up a tool of her own, Lyrr shuffled on her knees alongside Thaine until their shoulders were barely touching. "Now...what are we looking at again?" she asked about the ODN conduit, and hid a smile at his growing fear.

"This," explained Thaine, "is what happens when we lose computer access on an entire deck, and receive a positive feedback loop." As he spoke, he reached into the conduit, and tugged at something. It came free with a faint click.

What the engineer retrieved was, at one point at least, a neural-gel pack. It was barely recognisable as such, however. Brown, rather than green, shrivelled and scorched, it gave the distinct impression someone had thought it might be a good idea to try frying it. "Happens every so often," commented Thaine, as he handed the burnt gel-pack to Lyrr. "Certain parts of the network go down, and you end up with way too much power being applied in other places. There should be a spare in that tool kit."

Lyrr inspected the useless gel pack, set it aside, then retrieved a new one from her kit. All this, she did with a smile of amusement. The engineer obviously thought her a complete idiot. After handing him the gel pack, Lyrr leaned back on her hands to watch him install it, and mentioned, "I wasn't always a seat-warming executive officer, you know, Lieutenant. Before I chose the command track, I did my own share of repairs. But" --she grinned-- "it's far more entertaining watching you distract me with a lesson in technical repair so I won't lay a hand on your ship."

Thaine looked over his shoulder at her, his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, but with an obvious skepticism. "You want to put the replacement in, then, while I make a start on the next bit? That's just the start of the problems in this section."

Lyrr grinned at him boldly and snatched the gel pack from his hand. "I'll start in on this and you can watch." She gently nudged Thaine aside with her elbow to give herself more room, then held out her palm for the first tool. "You know," she mused as he slapped it down, "you wouldn't have to do this yourself if you had...say...outside help." Lyrr's pointed look reminded him of what she was referring to.

"You really think that'd help?" Thaine gave her an incredulous look. "Commander, if you think I'm letting one of them run loose on my ship...." He shook his head. "I don't trust 'em, Commander, and I doubt any in my department would either. I'd rather be doing this by hand than watching them every minute they're on duty. To be honest with you, I don't know what the Captain's thinking, letting them out of the Brig at all."

"He's thinking," Lyrr answered, navigating her soldering laser into the conduit and establishing the first connections, "that maybe this will help everyone on board heal a little. If the crew can work together with their former oppressors, grow to know them and perhaps learn to respect one another, they can deal better with what happened." She glanced aside at Thaine and handed him the tool over her shoulder. As he grasped it, she tightened her hold and secured his attention. "You're bitter about what they did - I know, I'm in the same boat. But think of it this way: now you'll be the one lording over them, issuing them orders and forcing them to obey." She sighed and pivoted to face him.

"I know it may sound slightly opposed to what we preach in Starfleet...but think of how empowering it would be, Thaine. If we release them to Starfleet HQ, they'll be tossed in a stockade, treated far more kindly than we were, and either live out their days there, or undergo a reform program after which they will be released and allowed to go on their way. I don't know about you," she opined, "but that wouldn't be very fulfilling for me. That they should be set free and allowed to live out their lives as they wish in this universe...." Lyrr shook her head. "I'd much rather if they remained under our thumbs, subject to our commands and made as miserable as we want them to be. In time, perhaps we will respect them enough that such tactics will no longer be necessary, that they will begin to become one of the crew. But until then...wouldn't you rather pay them back in-kind this way?"

"You're right," said Thaine, as he frowned at her. "That's not what Starfleet preaches. Hell, Commander, we still haven't got the blood off the deck from where that Bancroft skewered Hadek, and you still think the crew will be better around them than away from them?" He shook his head, obviously a little shaken at Lyrr's words. "What are you gonna suggest next, that we issue pain-sticks to our departments? I don't want my revenge on them, Commander, but I don't want them anywhere near my ship, my crew, or my temper, either."

Lyrr chuckled lightly. "Your temper is precisely what we need, Lieutenant. Who better to whip some headstrong, imperious enforcers into submission than you? Will you at least think about it?"

"I'll think about it, Commander, but my temper should sure as hell not have anything to do with command decisions. Now are we gonna finish these repairs, or what?" He glanced pointedly toward the gel back, and then met Lyrr's gaze again.

She held up her hands defensively, smiling. "See? You're a veritable tyrant, Lieutenant." Then she snatched the second tool from his hand and returned to her repairs, but not without one final, sidelong look of amusement his way.

---

"Tempting Offers"
By: Tebrianne Bancroft
Remica Clarion
Kirsha Dublai

Location: Brig, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.26, 10h15

***

Things were starting to settle down on the ship and the tension was slowly beginning to ebb. The captain had undergone his surgery and now had an implant where the Doctor on the Windsor had removed his eye. Benedict and Lyrr were allowed to return to their quarters on light duty, as were the other Bajorans. Now, all Tebrianne had to do was wait until Commander Zareb was ready to take the Nightingale and return for home.

The engineer had decided to stay with the Sulu at least until the Sulu found a suitable location to conduct repairs. According to sensors, it was a week away at warp two, the top speed the ship could maintain at the time. Even so, they would occasionally drop out of warp as the integrity of the warp field was lost. The ship's engines would be modified and adjusted, and then they would begin moving again. She had a feeling it would be a week and a couple days.

Today, the morning following their rather climactic return to the real universe, she was heading toward the brig. While many of the mirror crew had been captured and returned to incarceration, there were still doubts about what should be done with them. Some they could deal with, others were beyond reason.

Tebrianne entered the brig wearing civilian clothing, not feeling comfortable yet returning to uniform, especially with the doubts and uncertainty still circling around the ship in regards to her. The long skirt brushed the tops of her feet and the top was a standard Federation tank top. It was comfortable, and she'd found a few odds and ends to accessorize. Her rank still had some pull, and it got her past the guard and to the far end of the cells. She stopped briefly to regard the young woman sobbing piteously in the first cell, but quickly moved past the other cells, filled with Windsor Enforcers.

When she stood before their cell, both young women were seated on the bed together, talking quietly. Tebrianne still could remember Remica from the real Windsor, and she found very few differences with this one...with the exception that this one was more aggressive, due to the loss of her twin several years ago. Kirsha, the Andorian, seemed to be decent enough, violent but not brutally so...not like Hadek. She wondered how these two would acclimate to life in this universe.

"Kirsha, Remica," Tebrianne said softly. "May I 'ave a few words with you?"

The Andorian smirked and nodded towards Teb's outfit. "I see you have some sway with these people. So, what'd you use to bargain for your freedom, Bancroft?"

"I saved their captain," Tebrianne answered. "And, they're from my universe. I used to serve with Benedict, the security chief. Currently, the plan is for all of the Windsor crew to be locked away in a stockade once they return to the Federation. There might be a way to get off with a lighter punishment, however, if you're interested in working with them and obeying their rules."

Kirsha shared a snicker with Remica, then laced both hands behind her head and leaned against the wall as she stretched out her long legs. "Sure, we could do that...and be reduced to performing menial tasks and get treated like scum." Kirsha grinned and winked at Remica. "Which we are, of course..."

" 'ow menial do you consider repairing a warp core?" Tebrianne asked with a pointed look at Kirsha, noting the way she and Remica interacted. "And, science need some assistance as well. The ship lost some crew, and they need competent people to fill in."

"So, they're coming to us?" Remica asked. "Will we do our work and then be stuck back in cells?"

Tebrianne laughed. "No," she said. "You'll be given quarters, 'ave a run of the ship." She indicated her outfit. "New clothes if you want them. You'll be a member of the crew...if you're willing to work with them."

"We'll be members of the crew, but will we truly be a part of it?" Kirsha questioned. "We'll be watched at every moment, talked about when we pass, we won't be trusted, Bancroft - what good is freedom if we're still treated as prisoners?"

Tebrianne leaned closer to Kirsha, though with the force field in the way it didn't make much difference. "Your freedom is what you make of it. If you want to be a part of the crew, you can be. They're accommodating and open-minded. You might run into a few who aren't, but you can avoid them. And, for as long as I'm 'ere, you've got me as a friend if you want me."

"Who needs friends when we've got a ship full of enemies?" Kirsha countered with a laugh. She unwound her legs and smoothly rose, carrying herself towards Teb. "I'm an engineer first, Bancroft - always was. Seduction and fighting were learned out of necessity, and although I don't mind the former, I never cared much for the latter." Kirsha was smiling wistfully as she leaned against the doorframe. "I just want to repair ships, that's all. You can't do that in a stockade, now can you? But" --she raised her forefinger for emphasis-- "I will not be treated as an outcast. Can that much be assured us?"

"I can't guarantee how people will treat you," Tebrianne answered. "But, I can guarantee that the senior staff will treat you fairly, and if you prove yourself to be good at what you do and that you aren't going to turn against them, they'll accept you. Just show them they can trust you, and they will. I grew up in this universe, Kirsha. I know these people, and they're good people. It's nothing like what you're used to. I promise you'll fit in and be accepted if you want to be."

A thick strand of white hair fell across Kirsha's cheek as she looked down at her boots; even as she tried to decide what her fate would be, she couldn't help the preoccupation with just how much they needed a polish. On the Windsor, she never did dare to, for leaning over to buff them would only have her back exposed to whatever daggers were seeking vulnerable flesh. Living in fear had worn her down, and in the future she could easily blame her choice on that fact.

"Well." Blue eyes looking down upon the shorter female, Kirsha shrugged and masked a smile. "I'll have to talk it over with my accomplice back here, but I'd be willing to give it a shot."

Remica grinned and approached. She brushed a hand against Kirsha's arm, a single touch that spoke of the bond that had solidly formed between the two. "Stockade or try to be a good girl?" she asked. "I think I'd like to give it a try too. What's the worst that can happen?"

Tebrianne grinned. "Good," she said, then reached out and touched the deactivation button for the force field. "I'll see what I can arrange with Ops to get you set up in some quarters. For now, I think you'll probably be in some of the guest quarters. They're a little larger than what the rest of the crew has. I'm sure we can move you into regular crew quarters once they're available."

"And once they assess how competent we are?" Kirsha added with the return of her mischievous smile. She and Remica nodded to one another knowingly. "We'll show them that we're good for something other than mayhem, won't we now, Clarion? And with Bancroft here in the command staff's good graces, we can still afford to show a little insolence once in a while - make us feel right at home, hm?"

Remica propped her elbow on Kirsha's shoulder, leaning casually. "I think this is going to be a nice adventure," she said with a knowing grin. "The three of us can probably make a pretty good team. So, I'm in if Kirsha's in."

"Sounds like the Sulu just picked up two new crew members," Teb said with a grin. "I'll talk to Captain Salinger about it. He's still recovering from what 'appened to him, but 'e told me to notify 'im. It'll take a bit to get quarters for you, so you can stay in mine for now unless you want to stay in here. Replicator should be able to make clothes, and you can use the refresher for showers. Should be no more than a couple hours to have quarters ready for you."

Kirsha sighed deeply and seemed to be working kinks out of her slender neck as she slowly rolled her head. "Better than that cot," she commented, then gestured for Teb to lead on.

She did, out into the corridor where anyone passing stole a glance at the two prisoners still in the bodysuits effectively branding them as enemies. No one jeered her spat upon them, as would have been customary behaviour upon the Windsor when encountering the reviled. Kirsha couldn't say that she missed it at all, but there was a sense of displacement, of homesickness. She was certain, however, that she could adapt. There was little choice in the matter, after all.

"So, Bancroft," she spoke up after a time of quiet reverie, "this is where you used to live? The universe, I mean." Kirsha and Remica smirked at once another. "It's no wonder you were so soft when you first showed up."

"Other things had...had 'appened to me, just before I ended up on...on that planet. I was raped repeatedly, and...when I ended up in your universe, I was broken. We're a long ways from where I grew up. We'll probably go back there through the wormhole, when we're done exploring."

"And then what will happen to us?" Kirsha asked. "Is it customary for Starfleet to allow stowaway criminals from an alternate universe to serve aboard their vessels?"

"I'm not sure," Teb answered. "As far as I know, you're the first. But, by the time we get back, the captain may have glowing reports, and Starfleet will be 'appy to allow you to serve. You're 'ere now, and if you want to stay, Starfleet and the Federation will make a place for you as long as you want it."

Kirsha playfully nudged Remica's arm with an elbow. "We could be model officers, Clarion. Though, where's the fun in that?"

Remica laughed. "Not too sure on model," she said. "But do we have to wear those uniforms?"

"On duty, yes," Teb said. "They actually have a variety of styles to choose from. You can search in the replicator catalog in my quarters if you'd like."

Kirsha eyed the petite officer probingly and lengthened her strides until she was alongside Teb. "You seem to have been given plenty of privileges, Bancroft. How'd you manage that? Or was turning against T'briane enough."

"I'm from this universe," Teb answered. "That's probably why I have the privileges I do. But they don't quite trust me yet. Turning against T'Briane, helping to rescue their captain, and having grown up here go a long way." Teb pointed to a door. " 'ere we are." She opened the door and motioned for her former Windsor crewmates to enter.

"Nice," Kirsha mused, strolling inside casually. "It's pretty big for just one person." The Andorian showed blue-tinged teeth as she smiled at her former colleague. "Sharing with anyone? What about that large, Bajoran fellow T'briane was envying you for?"

"Just me," Tebrianne answered. "He chose to pursue the relationship he'd started with Commander Lyrr. So...just me in 'ere. It's almost too big for one person. I thought maybe I could turn part of it into a concert hall."

Kirsha sighed and draped herself languidly across the sofa with one elbow propped on the armrest, and her legs stretched out beside her. "A shame, really," she commiserated. "He was a delectable one. But from what I've seen there are plenty of other tasty morsels on board." Kirsha chuckled lowly, remembering her time with Sanat. "Many and more...."

Remica flopped down onto the bed and trailed her hand sensuously up her body. "You know, I think I'm going to like it here," she said. "Many and more...and then some."

"It'll pass the time," Kirsha explained innocently. "Besides, what better way to gain friends on this ship than to take them to your bed?"

Tebrianne laughed and moved to sit on part of the sofa Kirsha wasn't occupying. "I'll pass on that part," she said. "But, that doesn't mean you should. I know I should move on, but I'm not quite ready just yet."

"If he wants the uptight commander," Kirsha explained, "then he's worthless to you. Or" --she grinned-- "seduce him."

"I've hurt him enough," Tebrianne said. "Though, he doesn't seem to mind hurting me. But, he's too honourable, and if I continued to pursue him, he'd only get hurt. And, I don't want to hurt him. I still love him, will always love him...even though he's chosen another."

Kirsha scoffed. "Then you don't need him. My ethic has always been to do the hurting, not be hurt." She smiled salaciously and confided, "More pleasurable that way."

"For you, maybe," Teb said. "I don't like hurting people, especially not people I care deeply for. And, just be careful with your hurting, because that definitely won't make you any friends 'ere."

"Oh, this is the kind of hurting most men go for," Kirsha assured her.

Teb smiled wistfully. "Well, Ben always did enjoy it a little wild," she said.

"Really?" Interest definitely piqued, Kirsha folded her legs beneath her and leaned in towards Teb. "Do tell...."

Teb laughed. "If the two of you are still in here tonight," she said, "maybe as a bedtime story. Or we can go get drunk in a holodeck and I'll tell you all about it. But, for now, I think we should get the two of you showered and into some new clothes."

Kirsha's sigh was resigned, but she relented. "Alright then..." She waved Remica over as she lithely rose from the sofa. "Let's go, Clarion. I'm eager to be out of these clothes." The Andorian smiled over her shoulder at Teb once Remica crossed the room to follow. "Now that is how it's done, Bancroft. Don't ask for what you want - take it." Her innately sultry smile lingered as the two rounded the corner and disappeared.

Tebrianne watched them and laughed softly to herself. It would certainly be interesting aboard with those two around. At least they would be doing something they loved, and hopefully would fit in well on the Sulu. Time would tell...

---

"Starting Over"
By: Lt. Brennyn Scott, Chief Counselor
Ensign Vincent Chan, Science Officer

Location: Brennyn's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.26, 13h00

***

Vincent still wasn't sure of how he had managed to book himself into a counseling session with the Chief Counselor, Lieutenant Brennyn Scott. He knew he had issues. It seemed everyone knew he had issues. Everywhere he went he was certain people were whispering about him. How foolish he was to fall in love with a traitor. How he had been completely blindsided. How he had lost his fiancée and his daughter. He might not hear them say anything but he knew. He knew. They were all around him and soon they would close in. He was certain. All those he knew would betray him - Emma (or Cathy or whatever, damn her!) was only the start.

In his state, Vincent knew he needed counseling. But he wouldn't talk. No way, not a chance. Not even at phaser point. They could hook him up to a torpedo and still he would not talk. His face broke out into an insane smile as he remembered that that was how he had met Emma. He wasn't going to go through that again.

In his weaker moments however, Vincent thought of home. A home that could have been lost to all those on the Sulu. A home where he knew his relatives and friends and loved ones all were. He had cried in his room when he thought about how close they had all come to losing all that. And now, having escaped the Empire, it was all safe again and Vincent wanted to enjoy that as his old self - not as some crazed, deranged, drunken and lovestricken lunatic. He had booked himself into counseling.

But now, as he stood in front of the counselor's door his internal conflict still raged on. He didn't want to talk. He wasn't going through all that again! But he also wanted to be himself when he came home. For his family, his friends, his loved ones. His mind was still weighing all this up as he pressed the buzzer.

Bree pushed the button that would open her office door, and she smiled gently when she saw Vincent Chan. "Hello, Vincent. I'm Bree Scott. Please," she offered, "come in and make yourself comfortable."

Vincent gave the woman a curt nod and returned her smile. Looking into her eyes he whispered, "Thank you," in a soft voice that in no way removed from his sincerity. He entered and sat on the couch. How many people had done this before? His surroundings and the lieutenant were putting him at ease.

Scott went over to the replicator, poised to provide him with a refreshment. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," he said, relaxing another notch. This was not as traumatic as he had pictured. But still he was wary.

Brennyn returned to the sitting area and sat in a plush wing back opposite the young Science Officer. "I want to first say how much I admire you for coming forward and deciding to seek assistance. I know the decision to return to counseling couldn't have been an easy one after all you've been through. I know these are just words right now, but I hope in time, you and I can build a trusting relationship so you can begin to deal with all that you're facing. I will not betray your trust, Vincent, but I would not think you a fool for having doubts about whom to trust right now."

This set Vincent off. "A little doubt?" He let out a harsh laugh. He soon settled however and adopted a cold persona. "Alright then, counsellor. Go on..."

Bree continued in earnest. "It's ok to be angry, Vincent. But obviously you came here for help, and I want to give you that. What is it you want from counseling?"

"I want my old self again... But that's not going to be possible is it?" Vincent almost broke into tears as he smiled. "I want to be able to trust again, to live again, to love again." His shoulders drooped. "It's hard to believe that she took away that much, isn't it?"

"Not at all," replied Bree. "She took all that from you because she betrayed your trust. You're hurt and you're angry, and you're grieving the loss of what you had. Accepting that you need time to recover is important, as is taking the time to talk about this. You're not a fool for trusting her, Vincent, and if you want to blame people, add me to that list as well."

"No counsellor. That's OK. It's just that I loved her so much. And to find out she was lying to me all that time... Kind of depressing isn't it?" Vincent asked, rhetorically.

He continued, without waiting for a response. "She was everything. It hurts when you find out everything you hold dear, everything you believe, your life is a lie." He almost choked with anger. "But I honestly can't blame anyone but myself... I let her get too close, I was foolish to believe every word she said, I was the one that lost everything."

Bree sat back and considered her words carefully, finally speaking with more authority and conviction than he had heard from her before. "Self-blame is a normal, but ultimately pointless way of processing pain. Why is it that we always want to accept the responsibility for someone else's wrongdoings, and worse than that, why do we blame ourselves for loving with our whole hearts and trusting people we had no reason not to at the time?"

Vincent nodded at this. He understood the Counselor's logic. Everything she said would have made sense to him. But for one fact. The one fact that made everything, his actions, Emma's actions and everything else incomprehensible to him. He said in a low, almost whispered voice, "She was pregnant you know. With my daughter. We were going to name her Amy."

He let this settle in, glancing only briefly to check if the Counselor had heard. She had, so he continued, breaking the dead silence. "I can take everything she did to me, but my unborn daughter... our unborn daughter... it really tears me up to think of how ruthless and evil this woman was. And I slept with her." Vincent let out a little chuckle.

"I know you don't think that's funny," Bree replied quietly. "But I suppose if you think others are laughing at you, it's better to appear as though you're laughing with them, is that it?"

"I don't think everyone's laughing at me. I know they are. How could they not? I can see it in their eyes everytime I walk past," Vincent paused and shut his eyes, as if envisioning what he was saying, "That stare, that triumphant gleam. I can sense their eyes on me." Vincent opened his eyes again. "I bet they're all glad this happened to me...all happy to see me like this... Well I'm not going to let them win. Of course I'm going to laugh with them."

Brennyn folded her hands. "Vincent, are you familiar with the term projection? It's a silly psychology term for a really simple idea. Is it possible you think they're laughing at you and that they're happy this happened because that's how you feel about the situation yourself? Maybe what you 'know' intuitively is just what you're telling yourself...that you're a fool for trusting her, and that you deserved this somehow. If that were the case, I can see how laughing would be easier than crying and admitting your true feelings."

"Oh I cried, counselor. I cried," Vincent said, thinking back to those lonely and cold nights. "I drank as well. Heavily. I can see your point though. And I know you're right, but...I don't know what my true feelings are. I miss Emma - the one I knew at least. I loved her - still do. Her smile, her hair, her eyes..." Vincent smiled at the fond memories.

"I hate her for what she did. Of course I do. But I miss her. I love her with all my heart, and I hate her with all my soul. Those are my true feelings. I can make sense of them. Can you? Can anyone?" Vincent's voice rose and stopped abruptly at that climax. His shoulders slumped, not expecting an answer. He waited for the counselor to continue.

"Maybe the point is you don't have to make sense of them, it's how you feel, and rightfully so, I might add. My point is it's ok to feel what you're feeling for the reasons you mentioned. If you're looking for approval, you're not going to give yourself permission to heal. Vincent, you're not foolish or crazy for loving her or hating her. You didn't know, no one did. It's not your fault, but you're vulnerable right now, and as awful as it feels, I'd be more concerned if you weren't allowing yourself to feel this stuff."

He let out another laugh. "Well, no need for concern. I am allowing myself to feel all that." Vincent sighed. "Everything I said sounds a bit silly now doesn't it?" He gave a little chuckle. "I can tell you now, I feel a lot less vulnerable. You're pretty good, counselor."

His spirits were restored somewhat. I guess I knew it all along, Vincent thought to himself. But it had taken Bree to reassure him that he was right. He dropped his formal tone. "Bree," he said, for the first time throughout the session, "thank you very much. You've made me feel better. Not healed - not in one session. Just better, but that's still good. I might just have to take you out for a drink, Bree." He gave her one of his trademark grins, free of the pain and malice he felt before. "I can call you that, can't I, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, please," answered Bree, "And thank you for the compliment. I do try, and I'm glad you're feeling better. Feel free to come and see me again. In fact, I'd like to see you again in a couple of weeks just to see how you're doing." She smiled. "As for the drink, sure... But as friends. Under the circumstances, professionalism is important, and you're still working through a lot. But what you said is not silly, it's normal."

"I'm just happy that I am normal - or as close to it as I can be. I'm not my old self. I know that. But maybe I can build from all this. Start over..."

Vincent's gaze became distant as he stared at a point behind Bree. His eyes quickly switched back to the counselor. "Thank you," he said in a plain tone that nevertheless conveyed the full extent of his gratitude. His sincerity extended from his tone to his eyes as he fixed her with a steady gaze. "Now I can move on. Now I can cope. Thank you, Bree."

"You're welcome, Vincent. Give yourself time, ok? You don't have to decide anything right now. Take a deep breath and cut yourself some slack. You're not alone in this."

He took a good long look at Bree. "No, I'm not."

Bree smiled and walked him to the door. "Take care of yourself, Vincent."

---

"Reconnecting Friendships"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: Boothroyd's quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.26, 15h12

***

Outwardly, Shirik looked much better than she had for days. She was cleaned up, but out of uniform, wearing a loose-fitting outfit of white cotton shirt and dark blue cotton sweat pants, wearing open-toed sandals. Her hair was tied back as always, but in a flowing tail rather than its tight braid. She looked relaxed, but appearances were deceiving. Her kemla was strapped to her leg outside her pants, the blade never far from her reach these days. Although she'd eaten and slept enough to not look gaunt or tired, she'd had less than enough of both, and had supplemented what she lacked in them with drugs. One to help her get what little sleep she had been, and one to keep her awake and energetic enough to do her job during the day. So far, they seemed to be helping.

She stood outside the door to her best friend's quarters and let out a breath. Something had changed between them, she felt, but she wasn't sure what, or how to fix it. She felt a distance from Caly, and hoped it was just her perception. She needed Caly now more than ever, and she knew that Caly needed her too. Or at least, she hoped she still did. She reached for the doorchime and waited.

Caly's head snapped up when the chime rang. "Who's at the door?" she asked the computer.

"Ensign Lektar," the computer responded.

Calyca had a brief moment of fear. One that she knew was left over from their mission. Left over from the Alternate Universe they had escaped less then forty-eight hours ago... The last time "Shirik" had come to her quarters, Caly had been convinced she was a spy, there to pump her for information about the resistance. And since then she'd seen first hand just what they did to resistance people. But they were back in their own universe now. This morning when she'd woke up she thought she was safe... Now... Now everything had changed again and the fears were being renewed, awakened, the scab that had just barely started to form was being picked at and the wound was bleeding again.

But this was Shirik. Her Shirik this time... Not some spy. "Let her in please," she commanded softly. "Booter security override Alpha-One-Nine," she released the security lock she'd placed on the door when she'd returned from therapy and it swished open in front of the Drokari woman.

Caly was sitting on the sofa with her legs stretched out along the cushions and eight spiders gathered around her, some close, some not so close. She had the beginnings of a replacement on her lap. None of them moved when Shirik entered.

Shirik stepped almost hesitantly into the room. She wasn't quite sure how she'd be received, and that bothered her. "Hi," she said quietly, her eyes moving over her friend as if they were scanners that could answer all her questions.

Caly's green gaze swept over the Drokari woman, reassuring herself that it was really Shirik, and she visibly relaxed when she came to the decision that it was. "Hey..." she offered back just as quietly. "Computer, secure the door. Booter security override Alpha-Two-Tango," and the door whooshed closed behind Lektar.

"C'mon in and sit down..." Calyca waved a hand in a 'sit wherever' kind of gesture.

Shirik tensed when the door was locked behind her. For a moment panic welled up in her at the thought that she was locked in. But she took a breath, let it out, and reminded herself firmly there was nothing to fear here. Being locked in was safer, and she was with Caly. Her gaze flicked to the robotic spiders surrounding her friend and she had to push the panic back down again. They were just ugly little machines, she told herself, and wouldn't hurt her. Her hand nevertheless stayed near her blade as she moved to sit well away from the creatures, despite her desire to sit close to her friend. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Probably about like you are," Caly answered quietly. "Still... Raw..." she admitted. "I thought I was safe this morning when I woke, but I found out this afternoon what a foolish assumption that was. It's why I've started locking the door. Just in case, you know? So they can't get in." She waved a hand towards the door to her quarters.

Shirik nodded silently, folding her hands in her lap. She found out first hand that locks wouldn't stop them if they wanted in, but she would not say that to Caly and frighten her further.

Her silence was puzzling, and rather eerie, and it had the hairs on the back of Caly's neck standing up. Then the location of the spiders dawned on her when Watson moved and hunkered down close to her neck. "It's okay.. Disappear for a little while, you guys..." she shooed them away. All except Watson who just sort of made himself as small as possible and hid behind Caly.

"Better?" she asked Shirik as they all scurried out of sight.

Shirik gave her a small embarrassed smile. "Yes, thank you." She rose from her seat to move closer to Caly, pulling her chair over close so Caly was within reach should she want to touch her. "Things are so strange around here now... Everything feels different."

"Yeah. It does. That place... That place changed a lot of things..." she agreed, turning her torso a little so she was looking more fully at Shirik. "Are you okay? I heard what happened with... I heard..." her voice trailed off and she gave Shirik a look filled with sympathy and understanding.

Shirik did reach out to take one of Caly's hands in hers. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I'll... be ok. Eventually." She hoped. "What about you? I heard you were in sickbay..." She looked down at Caly's legs. "What did the doctors say?"

"Dr. Talltree said - 'these things take time'," she smiled a little and glanced up at the dreamcatcher as she squeezed Shirik's hand. "And he has me in physical therapy. Which I think is as much to placate me because I whined about needing to do something to help fix it..."

Shirik nodded, her eyes concerned. Her gaze followed her friend's to the dangling dreamcatcher. "What's that?" she asked.

"It's a dreamcatcher. Dr. Talltree left it here for me. It's supposed to trap the negative dreams in its web and let the good ones pass through the center," Caly explained. "I think he actually made it because he said he'd have to make himself another one.... He's nice. I like him. Very... Soothing." She sounded a little surprised.

Shirik peered at it. It seemed little more than some string and feathers to her. "Does it work?" she asked.

"He said it worked for him," Caly looked at her friend. "He just hung it up this morning.... So we'll see. I'm willing to try it and even have some faith that it'll work because right now... Right now sleeping is... Like walking through a minefield blindfolded."

"Let me know," she said. She nodded, her gaze returning to her friend. "I know," she said, knowing all too well. "I... haven't been sleeping well lately, either."

"I think it's going to get worse..." Caly admitted. "How can just anyone walk into the brig and let people out, Shirik? Let the enemy out. And especially someone who's not even part of the crew? How's that happen?" The fingers of her free hand began worrying the material of the pants she was wearing. "Does Security just let that happen?"

"I don't know," she frowned, her expression darkening. "I can't imagine T'Kal condoning this. Someone must have given the authority for it, but I can't imagine who would be insane enough to do so...." Her fingers crept over the hilt of her kemla.

"It scares the hell out of me... I heard what they were able to do while we were on the station... When they broke out of the brig... Gods, Shirik...." Caly let out a huff of breath. "I don't think I've ever felt so... So helpless... Have you heard if they're going to put them back?"

"No, I haven't heard anything yet... I would hope we'll be notified about what's going on. All I know is, if one of those kav-drusa get near me..." she trailed off, her voice a growl as her fingers curled around the hilt of her kemla.

Caly nodded in complete agreement, her eyes straying to Shirik's hand. "You have another one of those?" She lifted her gaze to look straight at her friend. She was serious. Jurell would probably have kittens.

Shirik blinked, then met her friend's gaze. Seeing the seriousness of her words, she nodded slowly. "I can get you one," she said, lowering her voice as if they were discussing contraband. "Would you know how to use it?"

"Like you? No," she answered honestly, her voice also lowered to match Shirik's. "But I think I could fake it if I had to. The spiders would defend me... But I don't know how effective they'd be. That wasn't what they were designed for." She drew in a breath and let it out in a soft huff. "Jurell's been staying here. Sleeping on the sofa.. But he's not here all the time..."

"I can teach you," she said softly. "And I bet the spiders could be taught to defend you, too." She glanced for a moment around, but didn't see any in sight at the moment. "If you want any company when he's not here... let me know."

"If you want any company when you're not occupied, come around," Caly countered with a small smile. "I'll be doing therapy in the mornings... Maybe in the afternoons too if I can talk the nurse into twice a day." She gently squeezed Shirik's fingers and held up her hand. "You're not wearing Jurell's bracelet....." she commented quietly.

"I will," she promised. Her gaze went to her empty wrist. "I took it off when the ship was boarded, I didn't want any evidence of any personal attachments in view, and I didn't want it confiscated, so I hid it. I haven't taken it out of hiding yet. I'm not ready to have any reminders of personal attachments..."

"Why not? Why no reminders now?" Caly asked quietly, slightly confused by that even though she'd understood the reasoning behind taking it off.

"Because I don't want any attachments. Any male ones, anyway..." she frowned. "I have one good friend, and that's all I want for now. Until I can sort things out in my head, and feel normal again. So much has happened... I wasn't prepared for any of it, and I feel like I'm in overload."

"Will we ever feel normal again?" It was a rhetorical question, asked as Caly searched her face, trying to read behind the lines, trying to see what was in Shirik's eyes. "Who's the one good friend?"

"I honestly don't know any more," she said quietly. She was troubled by a great many things, and it showed in her eyes. But she found a small smile as she squeezed Caly's hand. "You, silly."

"Hah!" Caly actually laughed a little, although there was little humor in the sound, and squeezed Shirik's hand back. "Swearing off males, huh? Good plan."

"For a little while, anyway," she said. "But I do need to talk to Saavar. He..." her gaze found Caly's. "Before we left on the mission, he helped me finish dressing so he could say goodbye, and... he told me he loves me," she said quietly.

Calyca blinked and gave her a wry look. "That's two guys in just the short time I've been here... That has to be some kind of record, Shiri..." She let out a soft huff of breath. "I'm sorry neither of them's the one you wanted it to be."

"Yeah, well... it never will be," she said, sullenly. "But that's irrelevant now. Ben's the past, I need to worry about my future." She let out a sigh. "I just don't know what to do. Saavar has me so confused...."

"Yeah... Jurell has me feeling like that a lot too. You don't want to love him back, huh?" Caly asked quietly.

"I don't know," she said helplessly. "A part of me does. But I don't know if that's because I feel obligated to, like I owe it to him, or if it's the bond messing with my head, or what... When I'm with him, and we're alone, it's so nice. It's so easy to forget everything else, and just sink into that bond and be with him... and that scares the hell out of me. And when we're apart, like now, I have so many doubts and so much confusion. Half the time I feel like running to him for comfort, and the other half I feel like running as far away from him as possible."

"Well... Answer me this... How did you feel when you thought he was dying?" Caly asked rather candidly. "And don't try and rationalize anything. How did you feel deep down inside?"

She was quiet for a time, reluctantly bringing back the memory of that time. "I was panicked," she said. "And guilty... it was my fault, what happened to him."

Caly tilted her head a bit and watched her friend. "Putting your guilt aside for now... What did you feel about the possibility of losing him forever? Never seeing him again. Never hearing his voice or feeling his touch..."

Shirik thought about that with a small frown. "I think I tried not to think about that at the time. Everything happened so quick. We were beamed to sickbay, and they knew he'd be all right not long after we got there, but.... I wouldn't want to lose him like that. I wouldn't want to never see him again, ever.... I'd miss him."

"Uh-huh.... And how would you feel if Ben died? If you lost him forever. Never hearing his voice again or seeing his face?" Caly boldly asked without any warning.

She blinked, but frowned. "What does it matter? He has nothing to do with this."

"Bullshit. He has everything to do with it," Caly countered. "You're still in love with him," she accused softly.

"So what?" Shirik scowled. "It's something I just have to get over. There's nothing that can be done about it."

"So what? Christ Shiri... Haven't you figured out yet that Saavar isn't your problem. And the bond with him isn't your problem. Your problem with Saavar is that you're still in love with Ben and that is clouding everything else in your life." She squeezed Shirik's hand slightly. "Until you put some closure on you and Ben, you're always going to be in this state of flux over Saavar. You've let a man make you helpless, Shiri. You've given your power over to Ben and it's time for you to take it back. And you're being grossly unfair to Saavar."

Shirik's scowl only deepened and her posture stiffened defensively. "I haven't given anything to anybody. I didn't do anything to make this happen with Ben. It just did! I can't get rid of that any more than I can this bond! What am I supposed to do about it? How do you get closure to a situation where it's just you? All I can do is try to forget about him. It's like any other wound, it will take time to heal it." She paused, and added quietly, "Saavar knows. He understands."

"Time alone isn't going to fix it, Shiri." Caly ignored the scowl and the defensive posture as she continued. "You and you alone have to make the decision and the choice to honestly let him go. And you haven't done that yet. I know it's not easy. How could it be? And you can't just forget about him. He's someone you love. You should always remember him. But until you decide to let him go, and stop being the victim, stop seeing this as something that happened to you that you have no control over, it's always going to be there, tainting everything you do and every relationship you have."

The scowl faded back down to a low-grade frown once more, her forehead wrinkled in thought. "But... how? How do I let him go? It's not a choice I made to begin with, so how do I make it one now? It is something that happened."

"No. It's something that you allowed to happen. You didn't do anything to prevent it and everything to nurture it." She reached out and touched Shirik's cheek. "You have to make the choice to let him go. You have to make that decision. But you're still secretly hoping that you can have him.... That something will happen and you'll be able to finally be with him. As long as you have that hope, even subconsciously, you'll never be able to let him go."

"I didn't have any reason to prevent it at first," she frowned. She took a breath and let it out as a sigh. "I know he'll never be mine. I know it. But I don't feel it, inside... And I don't know how to make myself feel it. Maybe when he gets married.... I don't know. What if it never goes away? You say it's a conscious choice, but it isn't. I've been trying to let him go for months, and it hasn't worked. I don't know how...." she trailed off. She did know one thing she thought might do it, but she wasn't sure that was something she could do.

"Listen to yourself... Where's the strong Drokari Princess? You sound like a helpless...female...who has no choice over what happens to her or over her life. Okay, so you fell in love with the wrong guy. That happens. The problem is that you don't believe he'll never be yours. See the relationship for what it is, Shiri. The man doesn't love you. And if he were to lose Lyrr right now and turn to you, would you honestly want him? Knowing that you're second best? Knowing that you're not his first choice? Would you? Is that what you'd really want? Hell... Third choice. Not even second... Piss on him. He's not worth the grief you're going through."

She thought about that for a long time in silence. "Yes... you're right." She nodded slowly to herself. What she needed was to get mad at him, to look at the reasons not to want him. Then she noticed Caly's wrist. "And what about you? Have you gotten engaged and didn't tell me?"

Caly blinked and looked down at her wrist. "Hah! Oh nice change of subject, Shiri," she snorted in amusement. "No. This is the replicated bracelet Jurell put on for my disguise as a "married woman", on the station." She held her wrist up and looked at the delicate metals resting against her skin. "I know this sounds silly and stupid, and even very... female. But it somehow makes me feel a wee bit safer having it on. Like it's some kind of shield.... Isn't that odd?"

Shirik couldn't help but to grin. That had been part of the reason she brought it up, to get the focus off of herself for a while. She nodded and the grin faded once more. "No... I can understand that. It probably makes you feel like he's close. Doesn't it?"

Her fingers brushed over the metal strands warmed by her body. "You know... I never thought of it like that... But it does. I remember the whole time I was on the Station... Being shown the medical facility... Seeing all..." Caly shivered and let out her breath in a soft huff. "I kept touching it. I think it helped me focus when the periodic table got all jumbled up in my head... Now how odd is that?"

"Not odd at all," she said with a small smile. "So.... have you thought about what you'll say when he wants to give you the real thing?"

Caly couldn't help the wry smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. "I already have the real thing," she admitted and touched the locket that rested between her breasts. "Just not in the way that you mean."

Shirik gave her friend a puzzled look. "So...you are engaged?"

"Nooo..." Caly blinked. "He asked me to keep his mother's bracelet safe for him. In case anything happened to him. He hasn't asked me to marry him or anything like that," she assured her friend.

"I bet he would if he thought you'd say yes," she observed. "You don't honestly think he wants you to carry it around just in case something happens to him, do you?"

"When he first gave it to me... Yes. Yes I did," Caly answered and wrapped her hand around the locket almost protectively. "I know he says he loves me. And I'm sure he probably would ask me. But... Hell, he loved you just a couple of months ago. Who's he going to love two months from now?"

Shirik shook her head. "He never loved me, not really. I know that now. I've seen the two of you together... He never looked at me the way he looks at you."

Caly made a face, a frown creasing her brow. "Did you even notice the way he looked at you, Shiri? I think you were too blinded by Ben to even see."

"Yes, I saw. Maybe not at first, but I did eventually. And it still was nothing like what I see in his face when he's with you."

Caly looked down at her hand and at the bracelet on her wrist. She smiled a little wryly and met Shirik's gaze. "Maybe. But I'll always be his second choice. And that probably shouldn't matter, but it does. Makes me feel like a hand-me-down."

"You weren't even on the ship when he and I met, you know. And besides, who cares how many were before? Do you think every guy you meet is going to be a virgin? If you count that way, hell, I wasn't his first choice, either."

"I don't expect anything of guys at all," Caly blinked. "I don't even want one. And no, you weren't his first choice. He was engaged years ago. But that's different. He didn't profess to love her two months ago. And you know you tried to push him off on me because you wanted Ben. Don't think I didn't know what you were doing because I did... And I know there's more between you than either of you have ever admitted. Maybe even to yourselves."

Shirik rolled her eyes. "There isn't anything between us, nor would I want there to be. I don't know why you keep clinging to that idea. How many months or years will it take before you believe that he loves you?"

It was Caly's turn to roll her eyes and snort softly. "Decades most likely. I can be pretty pig headed."

Shirik laughed. "Don't I know it." She gave Caly's hand a squeeze. "I've missed you, you know. After the last time I came... I wasn't really sure what sort of reception I'd get."

"That really was you?" Caly blinked. Until that moment she hadn't realized. She'd believed it had been a spy sent by the Bancroft woman.

She nodded. "I suppose it was a stupid idea to come here looking that way.... But after what happened, to both of us, I wanted to see you."

"I thought you were a spy," Caly answered simply.

"I know," Shirik said, but didn't know what else to say about it.

"Paranoia is a wicked thing." Calyca gave her a wry smile. "I'll be glad when we can put all this behind us."

Shirik's frown returned. "Me too. Although it seems that won't be for longer than I thought."

"Nothing is like we thought it would be..." Caly observed quietly and lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck where the fine hairs were rising to attention.

"I need to get going," Shirik said. "I'll see about your request and get it to you as soon as I can. But... before I go... Can I give you a hug?" she asked in a hesitant voice.

That made Caly blink because it was so unlike Shirik... But then none of them would ever be the same again. "Of course," she opened her arms and offered the Drokari woman a hesitant smile.

Shirik slipped from her chair and into Caly's arms, holding her tight. "I've really missed having you around," she said quietly. "I was very fortunate to have you for a roommate, and I never realized it before." She released her friend once more and straightened. "Thanks."

"Spiders and all, huh?" Caly teased lightly, smiling back a little. "You're welcome."

"I suppose someday I might get used to the creepy little things. They do have their uses on occasion." She smiled slightly. "I'll see you again soon, I promise. Get some rest, and don't worry." She headed for the exit, feeling much better than when she had arrived.

"Hah!" she waved as Shirik walked to the door. "Computer, release the door lock. Booter security override Alpha-One-Nine." Her voice was quietly subdued as she spoke and the door whooshed opened when Shirik got there, closing once the Drokari woman passed through.

"Secure the door. Booter security override Alpha-Two-Tango." She might feel a little better having seen Shirik, but she was still wary and paranoid.

---

"Snapping Out of It"
By: Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
Lt. Brennyn Scott, RN - Chief Counselor

Location: Brennyn's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.26, 16h45

***

She remained still and unreceptive to Scott's questions; it was apparent soon enough there wouldn't be much discussion, so silence now prevailed. Her eyes were lowered to study her pale hands, ones so useless and incapable of providing the help she knew she'd needed for so very long.

After Emma, she'd withdrawn from everyone, remaining secluded in her quarters and only rising in the morning to eat, then returning to her bed to weep or sleep again. She couldn't face Kit, or Tchi and Kelli; they would ask questions, and answers would be expected, but Amy wasn't in the mood to provide them. How could she when she could barely fathom what had happened?

They'd forced her to attend counselling after being released from the brig. The doctor insisted she would remain relieved of duty if she didn't attend, but Amy would have willingly accepted the punishment for continuing daily solitude. But, now she was here, and she still had nothing to say.

There had been such joy with Emma, such promise of a future together, and then.... Splattered droplets spotted her hand, and it was a moment later Amy realized numbly that she was crying. But for what...?

"She raped me," a voice so foreign to herself mumbled. "I didn't know...she said she loved me, so I didn't know....and maybe a little, I liked it." She shrugged feebly. "I liked her," she whispered.

In a voice uncharacteristically quiet for Bree, the counselor replied, "I liked her too, Amy, I think we all did." Even now Scott still reeled from it all. The hostage situation, the deaths. It was like it had all happened to someone else. And then her brain wrapped around what she'd just heard, and Brennyn closed her eyes against it. "W...when you say Emma raped you, what exactly do you mean?"

Amy gazed up at the counsellor, her features expressing perplexity. "She forced me," Amy answered curiously. "I went to her, we...did things, but I wanted to stop." She smiled ruefully. "Emma can be very persuasive."

Scott's brow furrowed. "Did you say no, Amy?"

"I...maybe not 'no' exactly...." Her brow creased with distress and befuddlement. The memory was so clear, yet she was too fearful to focus on it fully. "I-I know I asked her to stop, that I couldn't do it, I would hurt Kitty." Amy exhaled unsteadily, seemingly deflating her body as she stooped forward. "We did it anyway."

Bree inhaled slowly, unsure of what to say next. The Emma she thought she knew would never have cheated on Vincent, let alone with another woman. But she hadn't really known Emma had she? The Summers who had taken she and Ainsley hostage was a predator, a heartless woman who didn't care who she hurt to get her needs met. She had never cared.

And then there was Amy to consider. Had Emma somehow known how to push Amy's buttons just like she had done to the rest of them? Or had Amy simply given in to her own attraction like she had done so many times before, and was now feeling angry and betrayed because she had somehow believed they would be together? Bree hated feeling like the Inquisitor, but rape was a very serious accusation. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened, Amy, and start at the beginning."

Amy took some time to compose her thoughts, then sighed deeply and haltingly recited the events of that night. She began sobbing halfway through, nearly incoherent, but she pushed on, describing Emma's aggressive treatment, her promises that were now broken, until finally she reached the end. "She promised we'd be together," she whispered dejectedly. "After that first night...I was sure she loved me. I don't want to believe that she used me...but why would she have left me otherwise?"

Scott reached behind her desk and passed Amy the box of tissues. Amy had been raped physically and emotionally. Emma had used sex like any other rapist, to feel power and control. The worst part was that Amy believed they had been in a relationship, that it was okay because Emma had said she loved her... But it was always after the fact, it was Summers' way of making it ok. "I know this is hard for you to accept, Amy, but Emma did use you. She used sex as a way to maintain power and control of you and then she would tell you she loved you so that it would feel like love afterward. But I want to talk about that first night. How did you feel?"

Amy sniffled, blotting the corner of her eyes with the tissue. "I felt...confused...but I think I was happy. She made all these wonderful promises, Counsellor. We were going to be together - we were going to raise little Amy!" Her smile was at once elated and grief-stricken. "It was going to be perfect for once...so it didn't matter what she'd done to me. It still doesn't," she admitted.

"It doesn't matter that she raped you?" Her voice was even, but inside she was reeling. "That she used aggression and lies to force you into having sex after you told her no?"

"But...I did want it," Amy explained. "I felt guilty...but I lusted after her, Counsellor. She was just giving me what I wanted...but what I was too cowardly to ask for." She smiled nostalgically. "She taught me to be strong...I'll miss that most about her."

"Oh, Amy, there's more to being strong than what you believed you had with her. Did you ask her to have sex with you or did she tell you that's what you wanted?"

Amy trembled, and newly forming tears beaded onto her eyelashes. "S-She said I was denying myself pleasure...because I was so blinded by what Kit wanted, what he thought I should do. I think it's what I really wanted," she answered, though her tone was uncertain. "How could I not," she whispered. "I'm a slut - I've always been one. It was no different with Emma."

Bree reached for both of Amy's hands then, drawing circles on the tops of them with her thumbs. "You're not a slut, Amy, that's a label you're giving yourself because you're feeling badly about yourself. The sex was pleasurable for you, but sexual pleasure, that's not something we can control. Our bodies were designed to enjoy sex, but not to distinguish between what is right from wrong. You've made some bad choices in the past, Amy, but you didn't choose this. If you have to question what happened, sweetie, there was no consent. That's rape."

Amy's eyes were drowned in tears, only magnifying the sorrow in them as she gazed up at Scott. "B-But..." Her voice cracked to a high-pitched whimper. Amy could only shake her head in denial. "I'm so stupid," she whispered. "I was so desperate..." Her sobs and tears came freely now as Amy's head fell forward, resting on her outstretched arm. "I just wanted something to go right for once!" she wailed. She inhaled convulsively, and exhaled another choking sob. "Why can't things be right!? We were having a baby and we were gonna be so happy... I was going to be happy," she whispered.

Instinctively Bree smoothed Amy's hair out of her face and rubbed her back to offer comfort. "And you still can be, Amy, maybe some day in a better relationship with Kit, but you don't need a sexual partner to be happy. You're not stupid, just confused about what's happened to you. That's understandable...wait...Amy, you mentioned a baby. Amy, are you pregnant??" How had her brain ignored the earlier mention of a baby!

She shook her head somberly. "Emma was. It was Ensign Chan's, but she said we were going to raise it! She was going to be named Amy...and she would've been so beautiful." The thought of what she'd been cheated out of intensified Amy's sobs to near screams of grief.

Bree felt the sting of her own tears. Whatever problems Amy had, however naive she had been, Emma had violated her in more ways than she could count, she'd violated all of them. Bree had trusted her, had cared for her. "Oh, Amy, we'll figure it all out, it'll be alright."

"Who do I have left to turn to?" she wept. When she raised her head, her blue eyes were rimmed in bloody red. "I can't face anyone anymore. Everyone's gone away... I-I think about it, sometimes - about taking my life again. It's better than misery, Counsellor. I'm so tired of the misery...." she murmured, and again pillowed her head upon her arm.

"I know, Amy. But what you're proposing is a permanent solution, and I know you don't want that. You have me for one thing, and we will figure this out. Now look at me."

Amy pressed her weeping eyes into the sleeve of her uniform, hiding her face there until she found the will to gaze up at Scott, as bidden. She fought to hold back another fit of sobbing.

Bree reached up, and with her thumbs wiped the tears underneath Amy's eyes and smiled wryly. "Promise me you won't do anything to hurt yourself, Amy, and if you feel like this, you'll come to me before you do anything about. Have you thought about it, Amy, how you would take your life if you wanted to?"

Scott's gut told her Amy was not serious about taking her own life, but she would be remiss if she didn't ask if Reese didn't have a plan, especially because Amy was a nurse and had access to all sorts of drugs.

Amy choked in a breath, shaking her head sluggishly. "It's not that I...know ahead of time. Just...sometimes the thought will cross my mind...." Her tearful, plaintive gaze fixed on Bree and she whispered, "I'm crazy...aren't I?"

"Not at all," replied Scott. "Thoughts of suicide, especially following something stressful or traumatic, are normal. It's when I start hearing people talk of a specific plan to commit suicide that I become worried. But listen, I want you to use my refresher to wash your face, and then how about you and I get something to eat?" Brennyn didn't want Amy to be alone.

She smiled uncertainly. "You...you really want to be seen with me? People have been talking...they sort of resent me for being in love with the enemy. They just...they don't understand." She sighed. "I loved Emma.... I don't know why she didn't love me back."

Bree reached over and touched Reese on the forearm. "The woman we knew as Emma Summers was never interested in loving anyone, Amy. She's a predator capable of doing or saying anything in order to get what she wants, and that's power and control. I know it's a lot to take in now, but we'll keep talking about it, ok? I want you to know you can always come to me, Amy. I want the two of us to continue to work together, alright? I'm not letting you give up on yourself."

Amy's lips trembled in a cross between a smile and a frown. "Thank you," she whispered, then let loose with a sob and leaned across the desk to embrace Bree. As long as she could hold her, Amy would know she wasn't as alone as she felt.

Bree returned the embrace, but as she did, her thoughts drifted to what Cathy Page had said to her in the shuttle. Was she too overprotective, too motherly to see what was right in front of her? She'd always been emotionally invested in her crews, something she attributed to her desire to be more emotionally available than her parents had been. But after her meltdown in the lounge a few weeks back, she had to wonder if part of the sting of Cathy's betrayal was that she had been right.

Amy chuckled abashedly as she pulled back, and hastily wiped at her eyes. "I'll go clean up...." She rose and edged away from the desk. "I-I'm really glad we talked, Counsellor. I'm glad I still have a friend." And with a rueful smile, she turned for the refresher.

---

"Letters Home"

CPO Calyca Boothroyd

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's quarters
Stardate: 57910.26, 20h00

***

Calyca sat on the sofa with her legs stretched out along the cushions. Eight spiders gathered around her, perching in various places as they watched her work. Physical therapy had been grueling that day but any tiredness she'd felt from that had been over-shadowed by the curt announcement concerning the plans for the Enforcers. Now she was worried, agitated, and more than a little frightened. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that just wouldn't go away.

She finally sat aside the spider she was rebuilding and picked up her PADD. "Begin secure voice recording," she told it quietly and then reached out to pick up her cup and take a long draw of the warm brew. She looked up at the dreamcatcher Dr. Talltree had hung there and a faint, wistful smile quirked the corners of her lips.

"Personal missive to Vice Admiral Leanna Boothroyd, Starfleet Command, Stardate 57910.25, 2200 hours. Pause recording." She rubbed her brow and took another drink of the tea, pinching the bridge of her nose a bit in an effort to help ease the pounding in her head.

"Resume recording First off, mama. I received a wee bit of an injury. But I don't want you to worry. The doctors assure me everything will be fine and I'm convinced they're right. If things don't improve like they hope, I'll probably be delivering this myself. So if I don't, then you know things are well. Pause Recording." Caly had learned a long time ago that it was just best to be up front with her mother because the woman had an uncanny way of finding things out for herself. So leaving out her injury had not really been an option.

"Resume Recording. Gods, mama. We haven't even been back from the Alternate Universe a week yet and for the first time in my career I find myself gripped by an inner turmoil that has me literally sick to my stomach. Given orders by a Captain that I no longer trust and, worse, firmly believe is unfit for duty. I honestly believe that his mind was tampered with when he went through all that torture at the hands of those people. I believe he lost a lot more than an eye and suffered far worse than having his body mutilated. I'm convinced they did something to him. Implanted something inside him. Perhaps they've discovered other uses for the nanoprobes than simply healing. Why else would he be doing what he's doing?

I told you a little of what I experienced and what I saw there, mama. But I have no clue how to portray the true horror of it. It is beyond anything I've ever experienced or seen. Those people. They are ruthless, mama. More ruthless and more cunning and more treacherous than any Klingon, Cardassian, or Romulan ever were. They're born to it. Breathe it. Cut their teeth on it. It's their way of life just like our way of life is ours and as foreign to them as theirs is to us.

They're worse than the Borg, mama. At least the Borg are mindless drones. But these people. They take real pleasure out of what they do. They have no regard for life other than their own. Rebels are nothing more than lab animals. Slaves are the same, or worse. They grow Borg babies like feeder cattle, mama. Just so they can harvest the nanoprobes before they get too old.

And now we have been instructed to allow these people to become part of our crew. Oh, they're going to be examined by Counseling and Security, and if they're deemed not to be a risk, we're suppose to accept them with open arms. Good gods, mama. We have absolutely no idea what these people are capable of. None. We have been ordered to work along side them with no reprisals and no actions against them, or we will be sent to the brig and permanent marks entered into our records. I fear that your little girl may wind up spending the rest of our mission to the Gamma Quadrant in the brig, mama. Ironic, isn't it?* Pause recording."

Caly pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and rubbed them, as if she could miraculously rub out the pounding in her head. A moment later she took another drink of tea before continuing.

"Resume recording. *It's rumored that the Captain is using the excuse that we're short handed as part of his justification for letting them out of the brig. But that's so ludicrous it'd almost be funny if it wasn't so damned frightening. I'm sure you can appreciate the extra man hours it's going to take to watch over them, to monitor them, to keep track of their every movement. Instead of just letting the Sulu crew take up the slack, which each and every one of us would willingly do rather than work alongside the enemy, they're making us baby-sit them and then check and double check the enemy's work. How absolutely absurd is that? And the blow to morale, mama. How can that be dismissed and overlooked? At a time when we should be healing we're looking over our shoulders wondering when and where the next blow is going to come from. I don't think I'll ever feel safe on the Sulu again. Not with even one of them out of the brig.

Is this what the Federation has become now, mama? Benevolent to the point of gross stupidity? Benevolent to the point of putting their own people at risk in this way? Shackled and stripped of their dignity and ability to defend themselves free of reprisals? Do you know what his orders sounded like, mama? They sounded like the very same orders the Bancroft woman gave to her Enforcers when they took over the Sulu. Will the Captain now start executing his officers as she did just to maintain discipline? Heaven help me, but it is truly what I fear. Our ship is now in the hands of an enemy sympathizer, mama, and there's not a damn thing we can do about it but follow orders. Pause recording."

Calyca looked over her shoulder as she experienced a momentary chill. That creepy, hair standing up on the back of your neck feeling that she was being watched. The sensation made her shiver and suck in a shaky breath. "Christ," she muttered to herself and keyed in some commands on her PADD. When she was finished four of the eight spiders scurried off, disappearing as if they'd never existed. She wanted to know if the crew was being monitored. Being watched. Being spied on....

---

"Up in the Air"

Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.26, 20h45

***

There was a sense of surrealism accompanying Lyrr to the door of Mason Farrell's quarters - every step seemed protracted and dream-like, as if she were floating rather than walking down the corridor. She weighed the case in her hand to ground herself, and assure her she was truly making this inconceivable trek. The soft velvet brushed against her fingers, reminding Lyrr that her task was a true one.

Then, recollection came - she seated across from a baffled Captain Salinger as her recommendation was made. Lyrr truly hadn't expected him to agree, but surprisingly, he did, along with her request to pass on the message personally. The further along she walked, the more ridiculous her suggestion seemed, for she was the last person aboard Farrell would expect to deliver such news. Though, that alone made her the perfect choice.

Arriving at her destination, Lyrr tugged her tunic jacket straight, tucked the case into her pocket, and clasped both hands behind her back. After a brief moment of absentmindedness, Lyrr quickly tapped the door chime and returned her hands to their previous position. On top of everything, she was nervous as hell.

Unfortunately, he wasn't in his quarters. She chimed the door several times, to no avail, and finally resorted to asking the computer where Farrell was, inwardly cursing herself for not asking in the first place. Where else besides his quarters would he be?

The holodeck's arch opened into a very small room. No more than two meters on a side, its walls only rose to just above waist height, and beyond them could be seen a marvelous vista. The golds and greens of some nameless prairie rolled out to a faraway horizon.

Lyrr cautiously poked her head through the arch, deciding the tiny woven wicker compartment was really more of a basket. It was suspended by a series of thick ropes running oberhead to what appeared to be a massive open-bottomed balloon. She briefly pondered the contraption's sturdiness when the sole occupant of the basket spoke.

"Somethin' I can do for you, Commander?"

She disguised a gasp as her throat clearing, though her start was less easily concealed. Assuming her professional demeanour once again, she trod past the threshold and deeper into the gondola. Every step was apprehensive. "Nice view," she commented, now detectably breathless. Lyrr released one clasped hand to grip the edge of the basket and cautiously slid further in until the doors closed. The missing half of the basket reappeared. "Ensign...do you have a moment to discuss something?"

"Computer, resume," Farrell spoke to the room while looking at Lyrr. The gondola gave a bit of a lurch, and a breeze blew gently through the open sides as the scenery beyond and below began to move gently by. "Certainly, sir," he added then, turning to lean on the padded lip of one wall.

She marvelled for a moment at how easily he moved about, while she was likely leaving nail-marks where her fingers gripped. Lyrr chuckled weakly and spread her feet to maintain a more secure stance. "It's been a while since we've spoken," she began. "A good thing, I imagine." Smiling tightly, Lyrr waved her other hand dismissively. "No verbal sparring - I swear. I just wanted to express my...approval--" She chewed her lip, searching for a less condescending choice of word. "My...respect--" Lyrr snorted in exasperation. "I can't even pay you a compliment without insulting you. And in this case, you deserve a decent one."

Farrell scratched an eyebrow, glancing at her only a moment. "For what?" he asked flatly.

"For doing what you...do," she explained ineloquently. "For doing all the things I've blasted you for in the past, all the things that needed to be done to help save this ship." Lyrr suppressed a smile as she reached her badly shaking hand into her pocket. Her expression changed to one of frustration, the case refusing to fit through the opening. She smiled abashedly. "Just a minute...I almost...." Lyrr reluctantly unlatched her other hand from the basket to contribute to her efforts.

She swayed unsteadily as the struggle raged on, until, with a final tug, the case popped free to throw Lyrr off her balance. Both hands flew behind to brace the gondola, the case was flung across stretches of indigo sky, and Lyrr cursed a pantheon of gods from religions she cared little about. Her cheeks flushed when Farrell's gift clattered to the invisible deck, cushioned upon a billowy cloud. "Surprise," she muttered sullenly.

Farrell looked at her oddly, and ordered the computer to bring the balloon alongside the 'floating' case, which he scooped back into the gondola. He studied it a moment, his face stony. "What is this?" he asked softly.

Lyrr shrugged. "It's my compliment."

His eyes stayed on the case, and he flipped it open. Nestled within the crushed velvet interior was a tiny black pip bordered in gold. He winced and looked away for a moment, then slowly looked back to it, rubbing his face with his free hand.

There were several long moments of silence in the tiny gondola, broken only by the whistle of the breeze. Watching with expectancy bordering on impatience now, Lyrr whispered, "Congratulations...I think. If I'm reading you right...." She frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure what I'm seeing. You're waiting for an explanation?" Lyrr smiled and leaned casually against the brim, now that the illusion of peril had been dissolved. "You performed as I knew you would on this mission - in fact, beyond my expectations. I relied on you to get things done, and you did it with little intervention on my part." Lyrr chuckled. "For once...I trusted you, and you didn't fail me. That means I won't hesitate for too long next time before I rely on you again. Which also means," she finished with a heavy sigh, "you'll require the authority to give orders that will be obeyed. You can't do that for too long without that extra pip."

"I performed as you knew I would," he repeated absently, his eyes still on the pip, looking as though he feared it would touch him.

Lyrr studied him quizzically, mistaking his distress for overwhelming joy. Shaking her head, she moved forward and plucked the pip from its case. "Allow me..." Her one hand reached for his collar.

He moved suddenly, catching her hand, and taking the pip from between her fingers.

"Farrell, what the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed as he placed the pip back on its cushion and snapped the case shut.

"People like me don't get these," he said simply, his voice oddly thick. He held the case out for her to take, one eye ticking slightly and his jaw flexing.

She glanced down at it briefly, then returned her perplexed gaze to him. "No," she told him, lightly pushing it away. "You earned it, Farrell. It should have been yours for quite some time."

"Maybe once," he replied. "Maybe someday. But not this time."

Lyrr sighed. "Farrell...I don't know what you mean--"

"No reward's worth what happened on that station."

"What happened on the station?" Lyrr chuckled. "I read your report. You did everything right! It was brilliant, really." She did take the case this time, only to press it firmly into his palm and close his fingers tightly around it. "Take it."

"No."

Lyrr frowned qeerly. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"No," he repeated putting the box into her hand.

She slapped it back into his. "Farrell, take it."

"No, I--"

"Stop being so damned modest and take it!" she hollered, shoving it into his hand forcefully.

"NO, damn it!" He bellowed, cocking his arm back. Flung it out into the holographic sky, it was caught by the safety protocols and came gently to rest in midair. Farrell watched it, obviously fighting for control. And Lyrr watched Farrell in astonishment. Sighing heavily, she said, "Okay...I get the idea. You don't want it." Lyrr clucked her tongue thoughtfully, then turned and idly paced to the far end of the basket before pivoting around again to regard him. "Mind telling why?"

He stared at the horizon, the muscle in his jaw throbbing. Oddly, it reminded her of him staring down a punk in a Bajoran marketplace several months prior. He looked down, then.

"You read my report?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "I did. I already commended you for it."

"Can I confide in you, off the record?"

That roused Lyrr's suspicions, and piqued her interest. She waved for him to proceed. "You're now speaking to Tayla, not Commander Lyrr. No one hears of this."

"Then let me explain what really happened on that station," he said quietly.

And he told her. He told her about walking away from the team with no warning to contact his double. He told her about conning his double with a ridiculous lie about something called the 'Autarchate'. And he told her about Ainsley, and minefield codes, and Thomas, and rape, and beatings. And he told her about helplessness and duty and using people and throwing them away. And he told her about brawling with his double and leaving him bound in his quarters room to die in the explosion. He told her all of it, in a tone almost devoid of emotion. A haunted tone. The tone of a man who can barely grasp the enormity of a thing, and must describe it anyway.

"Some things shouldn't be rewarded," he finished at last, and looked out over the prairie again.

Lyrr's gaze had drifted towards the horizon long into his tale. The sun had nearly set and a pervading darkness settled around them. Even the air had chilled and Lyrr was shivering, though she couldn't blame it fully on the temperature. Silence prevailed between them, until Lyrr sighed deeply and slid to the bottom of the basket, using its side as a backrest. She smiled up at Farrell and waved him down to join her.

"I've done things I'm not proud of either," she admitted, watching him hunker down opposite her. "And something like that...." She shook her head slowly. "It'll never leave you, Mason. I--" Lyrr looked down, wondering at the logic of divulging her secrets to Farrell. Considering his state, though, Lyrr realized it might be time to share. "I...betrayed my people," she told him hesitantly. "I betray them still. I was...during the Occupation...." Lowering her head, the flames holding the balloon aloft cast her features in shadow, adding a ponderous intensity to her admission. "For a while...I was a concubine for a Cardassian Gul. I betrayed my people because I chose him over fighting to free my planet. But" --she stretched out her legs, feeling surprisingly relaxed unloading such a secret upon Farrell-- "in the end, I turned on him, fought with my fellow Bajorans and joined the militia.

"As un-Bajoran as I felt - and still feel to this day - I accepted the titles I earned while there, accepted any promotion, any commendation. I accepted classification as a Bajoran citizen. Why?" Her penetrating brown eyes flicked up to watch him from beneath her lashes. "Because after a while, you sort of get sick and tired of the guilt, and you then realize you're worth more than withering away under all the heartache and blame you seemed to think you deserved. After a while," she reiterated, "you find the good that came from what you did - as I did, because when I snapped out of my stupid delusions of love for that bastard, I led my cell back to the installation he was commanding, snuck them inside, and we burned the place to hell." She allowed a smile for the remembered victory. "So...when you're done blaming yourself, you might consider taking that pip." Watching him for a reaction other than a hardened stare, Lyrr nudged his foot with hers and prompted, "Right?"

He looked at her, and she at him, the pair understanding each other more deeply in that moment than either had previously. Finally he nodded slowly and meaningfully, sighed deeply and rubbed his face with both hands. "Damn, I need a smoke," he said with a heavy exhale.

She grinned. "So do I. But, I didn't bring them with me. If Ben weren't there, I'd invite you back to my room." Her eyes opened wide, and she explained, "Not in the way that sounded...because I think we've both been through too much with each other to even consider that." And as an afterthought that shouldn't have been, she added, "And because we're both involved." She chuckled awkwardly and turned her head away towards the stars. "And I really need that smoke."

He gave her an odd look, and then just said, "Yeah."

"Yeah," she mouthed, nodding, then watched him sidelong. "So...the pip? I still think you deserve it, Farrell. It sort of goes with the title of Assistant Chief of Operations. I really wish you would take it."

"Do I really get a choice?" he asked wryly.

"It's your choice, Mason," she told him. "It'll probably mean more to you if you feel you deserve it...and I don't want you feeling obligated either. Besides...it's just a pip. You could practically run that department with or without it." Lyrr grinned. "I just wanted you to know that I was offering."

"Give me a day to think?" he asked.

She bowed her head. "Take the time you need. Though, I hope I've been able to help clear your mind a little." Her expression was thoughtful as she studied Farrell, amazed at the unexpected connection established, and all it had taken was two shared tales of tragedy. Lyrr smiled wryly. "I'll leave you to the stars and your thoughts," she told him, and rose from the floor of the basket. "And if you're still in the mood for that smoke, I can bring along two very fine Risan cigars procured for me by an especially resourceful Ensign-Lieutenant-to-be and meet you in your quarters."

He laughed aloud. "I'll think about that, too. Though I imagine your fiancé wouldn't approve."

"My fiancé doesn't approve of much, but then, he doesn't have to know." She smiled at him slyly. "Computer, arch." Behind them, the holodeck doors appeared in place of the basket's rear portion. "Don't stay here and think too much. It's not good for you."

And she was gone.

---

"Paranoia Revisited"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd
Crewman First Class Sorg Jurell

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters
Stardate: 57910.26, 22h00

***

Caly was sitting on the sofa with her legs stretched out along the cushions. There was a Tricorder laying in her lap with a slender cord stretching to the spider she was in the process of assembling. She pressed a few buttons and watched as the spider's legs moved. She was antsy, restless, worried and agitated. The spider was a diversion. Something to keep her fingers busy. Her mind was rushing a mile a minute with worry and thoughts of the released Enforcers. She mentally replayed the missive she'd recorded to her mother, assessing if there was anything she needed to add, or anything she needed to delete. Ultimately she decided it was fine the way it was and anything else she wanted to add would only worry her mother more.

She looked up at the slight chattering noise and watched as Watson crawled across the floor with a tray balanced on his back. "What's this?" she queried and looked around at the other spiders before turning back to quirk a brow at the approaching covered tray with spider legs. "Well, let's have a look then." She leaned over the sofa and lifted it from Watson's back, making room before setting it on her lap. "You guys are so industrious," she murmured and lifted the lid to peek under it while Watson clamored up to join the others who all watched her.

Jurell had prepared a mug of hot chocolate, strong and sweet and had given it to the spider to take to Caly. The little thing really was a marvel of mechanical technology. He followed it out into Caly's living space and grinned down at her as she lifted the lid on the tray. The mug was one of the untippable ones with a wide base and narrow neck. It read USS Sulu on the side. The hot beverage steamed and the milky froth on top was liberally sprinkled with chocolate.

Caly sniffed the brew and 'mmm'd' in appreciation. "You guys are all industrious." She curled her hands around the mug and looked up at Jurell. "Thank you," she smiled. "You're spoiling me rotten."

"My father always said that it is courtesy, politeness and consideration that builds a strong relationship," he grinned as he'd said relationship instead of marriage. His eyes flicked unconsciously to her wrist where the bracelet still gleamed and walked over to the sofa. "My mother always said that love was in the little things."

"Your mother and father were very wise." Her eyes followed his movements, watching as he approached her. "I think mine would say something similar. Assuming you could get my father out of the lab long enough to carry on a conversation," she smiled faintly. Her worry and unease were there in the depths of her eyes.

"They still are," he grinned. "My parents are still on Bajor. I think you'd get on well with them. They still run a farm in my home province. Not much changes." He smiled as he sat beside her, squeezing onto the couch and helping her to move over for him.

"Farming sounds very attractive at the moment," she admitted softly and lifted her eyes from the mug to find his blue gaze.

"There's something bothering you, I can tell. Want to talk about it?" His voice was soft and calming and his hand rested lightly on her hip as he leaned across her slightly. The mug of chocolate was between them wrapped in Caly's hands and hugged to her chest as if she craved the warmth. He looked deeply into her green eyes and waited for her to talk.

She leaned forward until her brow was resting against his. Caly let out a heavy sigh then and just breathed in his scent for several moments before speaking. When she did, she answered with a simple and quiet, "Enforcers..." It was another moment or two before she continued. "I think something's wrong with the Captain," she admitted. "I think they did something to him. That's the only rational explanation I can find." She had glanced down at the mug while she talked and finally lifted her eyes to meet his gaze once again. "They could do it too, Jurell. They could do it and we wouldn't know they did. He wouldn't even know..."

Jurell held his breath for a moment. He knew what she had been through, yet it was an intellectual knowledge not an emotional one. Calyca had witnessed an act of insane violence that still deeply affected a battle-hardened Sorg Jurell; he couldn't imagine how it had affected his green-eyed girl. It saddened him and that was deep within his own eyes, for he valued Calyca's innocence more than anything. A part of that innocence was gone forever now; it was in the pain that was reflected in her eyes.

The news of the impending release of some of the Enforcers had caused more than a little discomfort in security. Kaven Lucas was incensed by the idea of the enemy walking amongst them as a member of the crew. Jurell also questioned Salinger's motives and the fact of his torture. It was so hard to believe that a man could suffer so much and not be affected by it. Did he feel compassion for the enemy? Or was it brainwashing so that he released his ex-captors? The Cardassians had done it to Bajorans for decades. Jurell's contemplative silence was broken by a puffing exhale of breath.

"He's the captain," he said softly. "He's trying to redeem something from so much pain." Jurell looked into her eyes and brushed his fingers along her cheek. "Commander T'Kal briefed us. I'd expect Thaine did likewise in Engineering. He told us that there were only two female candidates under review. Neither of them had been involved in any violence toward a crew member. Not that that makes a great deal of difference. One of them is Andorian and apparently she made a liaison with a crewmember while she was here...anyway," he continued softly, "Commander T'Kal assured us that none of them would come anywhere near the crew until passed out by Counselling and being scrutinized by security." He slipped his hand into hers and pressed her fingers in reassurance.

"T'Kal told us that he'd personally met the other woman's double - apparently she served with him on the USS Windsor. But he made it clear that they would be under scrutiny probably for the rest of their lives. It's a chance for them to rise above their circumstances, given an opportunity to live a real life away from constant fear and brutality. If they get through counselling they will be monitored by security and locked out of sensitive areas on the ship. Main engineering will be off-limits to them."

Calyca blinked and drew back to look at him. The shock in the depths of her eyes was plain for him to see. "Ex-Cuse me? Did you just try and make them out to be victims? Please tell me you didn't just do that. These are not innocent civilians we're talking about here, Jurell. And I don't give a fat rat's ass how many of our people T'Kal's met. Good gods. You could at least make that argument with the Bancroft woman and it would have some weight. Some validity. But don't even try to pawn these people off as goddamn victims! Not after what they did to us. Not after what they did to Shyla. Not after what I heard and saw on the Station. Every last one of those people walked through this ship carrying weapons and painsticks and collar controls. Every last one of them were armored to the gills. They are Empire Officers just like you and I are Starfleet. Not some hapless victims. They did something to the Captain. And now he's an enemy sympathizer..." She drew in a shaking breath, the tears already sliding down her cheeks as she tugged her hand from his and held the mug against her chest almost protectively now.

"Now you've gotten that off your chest, all that I said was relaying what was told to me. I am not making them out to be anything," he pointed out softly. "I do not agree with allowing them out of the Brig. I do not sympathise with their fate. Personally I'd be happier if we left them on a Class L planet somewhere. I do not condone their actions and I most certainly will never trust them no matter how long they are scrutinized. They come from a place that is opposite ours; a place that encourages their brand of cruelty and brutality. They are our opposites and so to my way of thinking, if Commander T'Kal served with our universe version of the enforcer, then he served with someone with opposite qualities to the one we have now. I don't like what the captain is doing either, Cal. But I can believe that a man like Salinger would at least try to extend the opportunity to them. I think we will regret doing it, but I'm just a Crewman. What do I know? T'Kal gave his word that they wouldn't be able to do anything to hurt the crew or the ship. That has to be good enough for me. I know for a fact he wouldn't have liked the orders he got either, but when the Captain gives an order no matter how bad we think it is - we follow it."

Caly raised her eyes to his and searched his face. The haunted look was back in full force. Silent tears continued to slip free from the confines of her eyes and slowly course their way down her cheeks. "But given the circumstances, it is our duty as Starfleet Officers to question the validity of those orders. Christ, Jurell... Are we even sure it is the Captain? Are you? Is T'Kal? I'm not. Do I believe that our Captain would give them a chance? Yes. But less than forty-eight hours after escaping their clutches with his life? Less than forty-eight hours after being tortured and maimed? No. No, that I don't believe. And I don't think any sane, rational person would. It's called the Stockholm Syndrome. It's where hostages feel sympathy for the terrorists. And that's what these people are, Jurell. Terrorists." She let out her breath in a shuddering huff.

"I would trust you with my life, Jurell. But the alternate version of you? The alternate version of you would hand me over to Branna as a rebel to be lobotomized and experimented on. Without blinking an eye. These people have managed to turn the Borg into victims. They have no concept of our way of life. They're going to do exactly what that Bancroft woman did. Bide their time, do what they have to do to survive, get into our good graces, and then the moment they get the chance, they'll do just what she did. They'll stab us in the back when we least expect it. I respect T'Kal and believe that he believes he can keep us safe. But I will not feel safe on this ship as long as there is even one Enforcer out of the Brig."

Jurell nodded. It would be no good telling her that she would be safe. It was two ex-enforcers against one hundred and fifty crew of the Sulu. They would never be left unsupervised. They would never come close to a weapon and they would never be trusted. Right now Calyca was in no state to think it through, and she was reacting to her emotional state which had been fragile since Moreau's murder. "They are still under guard and locked away," he said carefully. "They won't be allowed out of confinement for a while yet, they've been segregated from the others." He reached out and cupped her cheek and the wetness caused by her tears.

"I understand how you feel, Cal. I think under the circumstances the captain is being insensitive to the feelings of his crew. I don't understand how he could react this way either, not after what they did to him. But I do know one thing Cal. It is our Salinger. I took him off the operating table myself, and I saw his injuries. He was bad, Cal...real bad. Maybe he needs to prove to himself and us that we're not like them. I don't know. But as Starfleet Officers we obey his orders and let the senior officers handle whether he is fit for duty. The ship's counsellors and medical officers would know better than we. I'm sure he has to undergo trauma counselling as a matter of course. Please don't fret." He implored her with his eyes.

Calyca looked at him for a long time before saying anything. When she did speak her voice was quiet and subdued. "I don't trust the senior officers any more, Jurell. Not when they let something like this happen eight days after Shyla was bludgeoned to death." She pulled in a shaky breath and let it out with something very close to a sob. "You can't go through trauma counseling and come out the other side with a clean bill of health in less than forty-eight hours. It's impossible. Even for Salinger."

Her eyes repooled with tears and several more spilled over their boundaries and slid down her cheeks. "And they're not all in confinement. It's all over the ship how that Bancroft woman waltzed into security and took two of them out of the brig and back to her room yesterday... Is that how secure T'Kal keeps us? Anyone can walk into Security and just let people out of the brig? And that's supposed to make me feel safe and secure? It doesn't, Jurell. Not at all. I've engaged security override locks on my door, but even that doesn't make me feel safe. I heard how they bypassed our security and had the run of the ship when they escaped from the brig while we were on the station. They shot at us and killed McKenzie just four days ago... That's no more than seventy-two hours, Jurell. Less than that when she let them out of the brig.... I don't think you have any idea just how scared I am...."

Jurell sighed and shook his head. "Commander Bancroft was acting under the Captain's orders, Cal. Yes the two concerned are secured in her quarters. The Brig has fourty five prisoners...it's very very crowded. They are secured under guard now. Two security officers on the outside of Bancroft's quarters, and the room is set up under surveillance. It's two, Cal. Two unarmed women." He looked at her and she was visibly shaking and he reached out to take the mug from her hands and set it aside. Then he pulled her gently against his chest. "They can't do anything, Cal. Really - they can't. They are confined to Bancroft's quarters. Okay? We're not about to let them do anything." He tried to reassure her, but he knew she wasn't really listening. She needed a Counsellor; someone who could help her. He knew that he wasn't doing much good himself.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and held as tightly to him as she could. She hadn't gotten all her strength back, but it was substantial enough for him to know she was holding on. "I know you believe that. And I know you're trying to make me feel better... But after everything I've seen and heard... Anything is possible, Jurell. And I think they're capable of anything. Even unarmed." She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a huff as she rubbed her face against his chest. "I... I'm scared... And I've never felt like this in my life. So... So unsafe and violated.... I hate it. And what I hate even more is that it's my Captain who's making me feel this way. It shouldn't be like that. It just shouldn't."

He held on to her and rubbed her back, smelling the fragrance of her hair and knowing that she relied on him now for some of her comfort. "I know," he whispered into her hair. "You've been through a terrible experience, Caly. Something you never should have seen or been a part of." He stroked her neck to comfort her. "It'll be okay. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."

Caly sighed softly and allowed herself to just breathe in his scent for several minutes before saying anything else. Her voice was calmer when she spoke and she didn't sound quite so close to the edge of panic. She tilted her head back to look up at him and at the same time, allow him easier access to her throat. That she found his touch soothing was blatantly obvious in the depths of her eyes. "I do feel safer when you're here," she offered quietly. "Thank you for that. I think I'd be a basket case right now if it weren't for you."

He smiled at her tenderly and brushed his fingers along her neck. "I won't let anything happen to you. If you want me to stay with you tonight I will.. I can sleep on the couch," he grinned. "I don't mind." He kissed her softly and then drew her back against his chest.

"I don't want to be alone," she admitted on a soft sigh as she nuzzled her cheek into the warmth of his chest and tightened her hold around him. "Sleep with me? I'll wear ugly pajamas."

"I don't know," he mused. "I kinda like the idea of my legs hanging off the end of the sofa...but I guess ugly pajamas will make all the difference. I suppose someone has to stop you rolling out of bed. It'd be kinda hard for you to get up..." He chuckled softly as he kissed her brow.

Caly blinked and pulled back to look up at him again. "Oh! What a Brute!" She fwapped his chest with the heel of her hand. "Scoundrel!" She fwapped him again, and for the first time today there was amusement lighting the depths of the green eyes that gazed up at him. "That was so mean!" And she made to fwap him a third time, just before he took her face between his hands and kissed her soundly.

---

"The Dawning"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd
Crewman First Class Sorg Jurell

Location:  USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters
Stardate:  57910.26,  22h30

***

Caly blinked and pulled back to look up at Jurell again. They were sitting on the sofa in her quarters, facing each other. Almost embracing... Or they had been, until Jurell made some teasing comment about keeping her from falling out of bed because it would be hard for her to get up.

"Oh! What a Brute!" She fwapped his chest with the heel of her hand. "Scoundrel!" She fwapped him again, and for the first time today there was amusement lighting the depths of the green eyes that gazed up at him. "That was so mean!" And she made to fwap him a third time, just before he took her face between his hands and kissed her soundly.

The kiss lasted a while before the large Bajoran finally let her go and chuckled with suppressed mirth. By then he was supporting her slight weight as she sagged heavily against him. His muscles flexed lightly beneath the hands that gripped his uniform as she clung to him, breathless from the kiss they'd just shared.

"You hit like a girl," he teased.

"Oh yeah? Well you kiss like a guy," she countered and tugged on his shirt, pulling him closer. "Do it again...."

He did, and for a long time they dwelled within the closeness of the kiss, losing themselves in the embrace and the emotion they shared. His was sure, seasoned, with a confidence that Calyca lacked. Hers was hesitant, inexperienced, with a blush of newness that Jurell couldn't help but crave.

He held her gently, supporting her slight weight as he kissed away her fear. They were breathless; hearts beating loudly in their ears as they parted just enough to gaze into each other's eyes. Jurell brushed his fingers across her neck, marveling at the softness of her skin and the warm quivering beneath his finger tips. His azure gaze travelled to her parted lips and followed the curve of her face. He smiled, feeling her tremble in his arms.

She closed her eyes and huffed shakily as his soft kisses brushed her wet cheeks, taking away her tears until again he kissed her lips to take away her breath in a slow, sensuous caress. They parted only slightly again and Caly gazed up at him, green eyes dark and full of emotion and her lips quivered as she gasped for the breath he stole.

"Damn you and your addicting kisses, Sorg Jurell," she huffed softly and slid her arms up to wind around his neck, her hands gripping her elbows as she gave every indication of never letting him go. The action kept their faces intimately close together and they shared the same breath as their scents mingling into a heady, intoxicating aroma.

He smiled as their brows met and he lowered his face until his cheek brushed against hers and his lips touched the delicate lobe of her ear and then her neck, lingering and soft in a trail of kisses back to her throat and chin and lips. He kept a firm grip on his passion, remaining gentle and loving; soft and tender, rather than deeply passionate as he seemed to crave. It didn't help at all that she was so damned responsive to his slightest touch and the warm breath washing over her skin.

Her soft moans and gasps, and the instinctive press of her body sorely tested his resolve. He kept his touch light, but his emotions were deep and meaningful as he made love with his kisses, expressing desire with his lips against hers, drawing in her scent and texture with every breath mingled with hers, and showing her what a wonderful and heady experience desire and passion could be.

"I...I can't think," she panted softly, the words washing over his lips as she gasped for breath. "And I can't remember the damned periodic table," she admitted on a shudder. She was clinging to him still, her body trembling with the emotions coursing through her.

"You're not supposed to," he whispered as he kissed the nape of her neck, coaxing a soft moan of pleasure from her lips. He drew back so that he could see her eyes and they both became lost in shades of azure and green. A slight bemused smile was on his lips as they were drawn to each other again in sweet addiction and her body trembled against him as he melted into the kiss.

The universe hung suspended for a time; nothing else mattered, and all there was for Jurell remained encircled in his arms. Fleetingly the thought that he could have lost her so easily came to mind and the sheer enormity of what he might have lost weighed heavily upon him. As he drew away from her to gaze within those sea emerald eyes he realized that there were tears on his own cheeks. He swallowed past the emotion and drew her against his chest, taking comfort in the fact that they were still alive, and that they were together.

"Oh...." she huffed softly and her fingers found their way to wipe the dampness from his cheeks before moving to brush over his lips. "What is it, Jurell?" She tilted her head back to gaze up at him and what she saw in his eyes had her gasping and cupping his face. "Hey... We're okay. Right?"

"We're okay," he smiled, feeling foolish and embarrassed as he chuckled softly. "I could have lost you," he said in an attempt at explaining his emotions, as he gazed into her eyes. His fingers touched her cheek, his thumb running along her jaw line, barely a contact as he drew a deeper breath. "I would have lost everything," he whispered.

Caly blinked at his words and save for their slight trembling, her fingers stilled on his lips. That she hadn't thought of that was echoed in the depths of her eyes. In all the time she was on the mission and away from him, she'd been sure he was alright. Perhaps it was an illusion brought on by the bracelet she wore, and her eyes were pulled from the blue of his eyes to rest on the softly glowing metal.

It was the look in his eyes that held her spellbound though, and another moment grew and throbbed around them as it hung suspended in time. She was acutely aware of her own breath, and the beating of her heart filled her ears like a compelling roar. Then she became aware of another sound that pushed its way to the foreground before settling in to harmonize with hers. It was another suspended moment before she realized it was Jurell's breath, and his heartbeat.

Time resumed in a rush that had her feeling light-headed and dizzy, and she gasped for breath as she looked up at him. It was as if a light had turned on, or the sun has just crested the horizon in a spectacular dawn. Caly was very aware now of the truth of his love and of that connection they shared even if she didn't fully understand it.

"You couldn't have lost me. We're not ready to lose each other yet," she finally said rather inanely. As if that made some weird kind of perfect sense to her. "I think the bracelet is possessed," she went on, her eyes never leaving his. "I never thought for a moment that you weren't okay... And I think it gave me some weird kind of protection.... you enchanted it, didn't you?" she accused softly. She was starting to babble a bit because she was very unsure of what to do with that knowledge she had just gained.

He laughed softly at that; her observation breaking the mood. "I did actually," he said quietly. "The metal is impregnated with a trace marker that the runabout's transporter system could recognize. They would have been able to lock on and beam you away from trouble very easily...and sensors can find it from a sector away. So I would have been able to find you...no matter what." He grinned. "So you're right...I wouldn't have lost you."

She blinked and then laughed softly with him as her arms went back around his neck. "You scoundrel," she accused lightly and leaned in to gently bite his jaw. "I think I'm supposed to be highly indignant about that, yanno. But damned if that doesn't appeal to something oddly warped and wacky in me. Now I'll never take the thing off," she teased.

Then her tone turned serious and matched the look in her eyes as she whispered a soft and vehement, "I don't want you to lose me, Jurell," close to his lips. "Not ever."

"I think you can count on that, girl," he said just as seriously, and kissed her waiting lips, allowing a hint of his pent up passion to take hold as he held her tightly against him. "You don't have to take it off if you don't want to," he whispered as he broke the kiss, and with new breath he pursued her lips again, drowning out her 'good' before it was ever fully uttered. It was a long kiss, and with the way she responded to him, more passionate than he had intended.

"Christ, what are you doing to me?" she panted raggedly after pulling her lips from his long enough to catch her breath for a moment before taking the initiative and kissing him hungrily, some of her own budding desire rising to the surface and threatening to overwhelm her.

He couldn't answer her question for she was as ardent as he in pursuit of the desire and passion that seemed to swell within Jurell as she kissed him. His fingers wove through her hair and clutched her waist as he sought the very essence of her; something she seemed more than willing to let him find. He groaned through joined lips, feeling drunk on sensation and a need for her that wrestled with his self-control.

She was so very responsive to him. Something had awakened in her with the discovery of that connection between them and the acknowledgment of his feelings. It scared her and at the same time had her intensely curious. It was something that was clouding that rational part of her and something she had no control over. Her fingers were gripping his hair without her being aware that her hands had moved, and her body was pressed tightly against his, her breasts flattened against his chest.

Jurell could sense the change in her from previous passivity to passion, and it only increased his desire. A part of him knew that now wasn't the time, but he was helpless in the face of her awakening need, and so he lifted her easily and her arms tightened around his neck as he carried her to her bed, not breaking her kiss until he laid her gently down and lay beside her. For a moment he held her eyes, both of them catching their breath, ragged shallow breaths that for, Jurell, seemed to burn. His fingers traced her chin and he bent to taste her lips again, this time with a renewed gentleness that held all of his emotion.

Perhaps it was the newly discovered connection that had her registering that emotion with more clarity than she ever had before. It was strong enough to have her huffing softly into his mouth and kissing him back with a responding gentleness that was almost heart stopping.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked him again as she kept kissing him. Soft, feather light kisses that tugged at his lips and pulled at his heart.

"The same thing you're doing to me," he whispered into her mouth as he responded to her kisses. He was turned toward her, and they lay with legs entwined as they made a new discovery of each other in every caress and kiss.

"Oh...." her teeth pulled gently at his bottom lip. "I gotta tell you... This is some scary ass shit, Jurell," she whispered back. "Scarier than accidentally cross wiring a circuit and getting knocked back on your ass," she admitted, but couldn't stop kissing him. "Is it supposed to feel like that?" Her fingers combed through his hair and gently caressed the curve of his ear as she became fascinated with the feel and shape of it. Never before had she been one to overly explore him, but now it seemed as if something drove her and her fingers moved of their own accord.

He laughed softly at her use of terms and shook his head as he bent to kiss her throat, lightly grazing the skin with his teeth, knowing exactly where she was sensitive. "You have nothing to be scared of," he said, softly as he dragged his lips across her throat.

"Oh no? Christ..." she gasped out and arched her head out of the way, exposing the length of her throat to him in an open invitation. "Tell that to my insides 'cause my guts are knotting all up and shaking like crazy," she told him. Her fingers slid warmly around his ear and pulled lower to explore along the cord of his neck and slip just under his shirt collar.

Jurell turned back to kiss her lips as he pressed into her. He too was shaking as she moved erratically against him. His hand roamed her back, tracing the muscles from her waist to her neck as he kissed her with unrestrained passion. He loved the way she responded to his every touch and it only served to fuel his passion and desire for her.

The warmth of her fingers slipped fully beneath the material of his shirt and curled around his collar, their backs pressing lightly against his skin. The kiss was a heady one that quickly stole her breath away and had her pulling back enough to draw in ragged gulps of air. "T-this could kill you..." she gasped as her lips slid over his to warmly caress his cheek before her teeth found the tender flesh of his throat.

He shuddered as she bit him, and the gasping groan that escaped his lips was from sheer pleasure that made him convulsively flex against her. It was he that was melting on the inside and he never wanted her to stop, but he knew there was a boundary. She was supposed to be recovering...but her lips were hot against his skin. "Prophets," he breathed as her nails lightly scratched his shoulder.

"I don't think we need them right now, Jurell," she whispered against his moist skin and kissed a light trail up to tug gently on his ear lobe, making him gasp and quiver. "I never realized what fascinating marvels of design ears are." Her breath was warm as it washed over him. "I think I'm getting a fever," she told him, nuzzling him now and breathing in his scent. She felt both light headed and deeply grounded in her body at the same time.

"Me too," he said, as he inhaled her scent and brushed his cheek against hers, kissing her collarbone and trailing his kisses across her throat. "It's way too hot in here," he murmured as his fingers traced the muscles of her abdomen just under her tank top. It was short waisted and the feel of her flesh, so soft and pliant and the swell of her belly drew him. He kissed her upper chest, the flesh there warm and flushed with her arousal.

"Oh..." she shuddered at his touch and sagged helplessly against him. "Christ... You're doing that on purpose," she accused. Her fingernails were unconsciously drawing a light pattern on his neck and shoulder, very like what she normally drew in the air. "Way too hot," she huffed out a breath and her lips began to roam over his face as they sought out his once more.

He kissed her again, surrendering to her demand for his lips as he fell back to the covers and brought her over him in the circle of his arms, the soft swell of her breasts pressed to his chest. His hands brushed her sides pressing the small of her back as he continued the fervent kissing.

It was the brush of his fingers over the warm skin of her sides that had her gasping and shuddering helplessly. She deepened the kiss in reaction and was on the verge of pulling back to nibble his lip when she felt the press of his fingers at the small of her back. Her whole body stilled with a jerk, and her eyes flew open to stare down at him. "D-do that again..." she whispered against his lips.

His hands had stilled on her back, but he smiled up at her and pressed his fingers into the dimples in the small of her back, smoothing over the softer swell, brushing the material of her capri pants as she gazed into his eyes. He was slightly bemused, not really knowing what it was she'd reacted so intensely to. He slid his hands up her back, over the shoulders and along her collar, watching her eyes, breathing heavily from his own emotional and physical state. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice sounding as if he was awed by the revelation.

She gasped at the press of his fingers and then couldn't help the soft groan breathed against his lips when his hands brushed over the swell of her bottom. "N-no... No... Not there..." She blinked and looked into his eyes, momentarily distracted by his words. The tug of war going on in her eyes and animated in her face was almost comical. She wanted to respond to the sound of his voice, and his words, and that look in his eyes, but... She groaned in frustration and her fingers gripped into his hair just behind his ears.

"D-dammit, Jurell... Can we do that beautiful thing later? Please?" She kissed him soundly and lightly bit his bottom lip. "Please?" Her tone was pleading and she punctuated her next words with tiny kisses and gentle nips to the swell of his lips. "Right now... I need for you to do that pressing again... Okay? In the small of my back? Please?"

He chuckled, and did exactly as she asked. His strong fingers found the pressure points and the knot of nerves that was at the base of her spine. It was an acupressure point that stimulated the nerves and he watched her expression and eyes as he found it again. She was so responsive to his touch, he was fascinated by her reactions.

"There!" she gasped and her eyes opened wide. "Oh Christ... Right there..." she groaned and her body jerked involuntarily against his. "I can feel that," she whispered against his lips, afraid to move or even speak above a murmur. She was excited and scared at the same time, something very easy for him to see in her eyes. "C-can you keep doing it?"

He did, slowly and sensuously, massaging the spot and remaining in tune with her reactions. He was so aware of her, the feel of her skin, the scent of her hair and the body oils she used, and the press of her against him. It was more than he could handle, and just watching the blush of her throat and hearing the groans and sighs had him nearly delirious with passion.

"Uhh... We're supposed to be working on the feelings in my legs..." she panted softly after a particularly deep groan of pure sensuous pleasure. "Gods, but you're distracting. I can't tell which I feel more... The faint tingling in my legs or that... That throbbing deep in my groin. Maybe they're related..."

He grinned. Sometimes she could be so clinical...but he continued, loving the way she reacted, and knowing that having some feeling in her legs was better than anything else he could do for her, and yet still he wanted to give her pleasure. He concentrated upon the task and was rewarded by more than one soft groan.

"Hoh-boy... Are you concentrating on my legs?" she asked with a moan against his lips and a tightening of her fingers in his hair. "I swear if the nurse did this I'd smack her," she admitted. "The tingling's getting stronger...." And then she couldn't help herself and started kissing him deeply.

Jurell was helpless to do anything but comply with her soft demands and he kissed her back as his hands worked their magic on her lower back. She was fully astride him now as he brought her upward to kiss her deeply. The pressure between them mounted as he pressed firmly into her back and she was trembling, breathing as hard as he was. It was almost an agony for him, as she feasted upon his lips and moved in response to his ministrations.

She dragged her lips from his with an agonizing groan and kissed his face and throat as she caught her breath. "Dammit, Jurell," she groaned in frustration. "I want to move my legs." She was aching inside and restless. She didn't understand the sensations she was feeling and was hard put to make a distinction between the feeling coming back in her legs and deeper throbbing need he was making her feel.

"You will," he whispered into her ear as she clung to him. He applied slightly more pressure, but still his hands moved in the slow sensuous manner, stimulating her nerves and smoothing over her warm skin. He held her gaze intently, hers a glazed expression, heavily lidded and sultry; her mouth slightly open as she drew in short gasps and sighs.

She couldn't take her eyes from his and her gaze was unfocused as she stared into their depths. "I believe you now," she finally breathed, and it was clear by her look that she wasn't talking about moving her legs again.

Jurell knew exactly what she referred to, and it brought a smile to his lips as he kissed her once more, lovingly and tenderly as she recognised the deep feelings he held for her. It was so instinctive; this connection they shared that transcended the ordinary. He was deeply in love with her, and it had taken the realization of what he could have lost that gave him a true insight into just how deeply he had fallen. It shattered his previous imagining of what love was, and to experience now what it meant to truly be in love. He felt awed by it.

He knew there was nothing he would not do for her, and he would give everything he had to remain with her. Jurell just did not have the words to tell her, but he knew that she already understood. But Caly being the way she was, pulled her lips from his, breathless and trembling from emotion. She might not have thought she loved him, but it was plain to Jurell just how deep her feeling for him went by the enormity of her responses to him.

"You could at least say something," she murmured against his mouth, unable to totally stop kissing him. The fullness of her lips continued to brush and tug gently on his as she spoke. "Like... 'Prophets, girl. It's about damn time....'," she mimicked the tone of his voice. "Or something like that."

He chuckled as he too kissed her. "What's to say?" he whispered. "I love you, and from what you make me feel.. I've never loved before this. Never felt this way...never imagined." He shook his head slightly as he gazed up into her eyes. "I can't tell you, Cal. I don't know the words."

"Try?" Her whispered word was heartfelt and the deep throb in her voice conveyed her need. Her hands moved to comb into his hair and cup his head as she looked into his eyes. "I want to understand, Jurell... To know what it feels like because I don't. I have deep feelings for you, but I don't know what they are, and so I refuse to put a name to them until I do... There's just so much that I don't know," she admitted.

He sighed, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. "You're a part of who I am now," he said softly, stroking her hair and gazing into her eyes. "I can't think of being without you, can't imagine what it would be like to go on and not be with you. I can't remember what it was like before that first morning at breakfast. I need to see you, touch you, be with you and I can't think clearly when you're in my arms...but it's okay because I don't need to think about anything else. I want to protect you, serve you, love you, worship you...and I do, Cal. I love you so much it hurts."

She'd remained quiet while he spoke, his words weaving a spell around her that she didn't want to break. When he was finished, she let out her breath in a soft huff and lowered her head till her brow rested on his. "So... It would be like having a Warp Core without any plasma? Or plasma without the Core to contain it? It's a symbiotic kind of thing?" Her words were softly whispered because she still didn't want to break the spell that held them in its cocoon.

"Like you and me," he whispered. "We fit together...and I know without you I won't be the same. I'd be less than myself. I wouldn't be complete without you." His arms circled her back and he held her. "I've never felt this way before...it scares me too."

"I don't want you to be scared," she still spoke softly, continuing that illusion of a spell surrounding them. Her fingertips found their way to his mouth and she gently brushed them over the swell of his bottom lip. "Why's it scare you?"

"I've always been me...just me...I've never considered anyone else as a part of who I am. I've always kept people at arm's length - but I can't do that with you."

Caly blinked and stared at him in amazement. "That's exactly the way it's always been with me," she whispered. "I don't keep them at arm's length really... They just usually stay that way on their own...." She let out a soft huff of breath and offered him a small smile. "I don't think I could keep you at arm's length even if I tried," she admitted. "And I don't want to either," she told him with another soft huff. "Are you afraid I'll hurt you?"

"No.. I know you won't." He kissed her fingers. "In the same way that I could never hurt you." He rubbed her back gently, trailing his fingers along her spine absently as he spoke. "It's just you and me. No one else."

"I've always felt Shirik was there too," she admitted, shivering lightly from his touch. "She's always been first. I think I'm jealous of her. And that is such a disgustingly female thing to be." She huffed lightly.

"She was," he replied softly. "Only for a short time. We spent a lot of time on shift together, all alone in the Computer Core. She's a beautiful woman, but it's only skin deep, and I thought I loved her but it wasn't really. I didn't know what love really was...and there was no connection there. She never once really talked to me as if I mattered. It was stupid really. You don't need to be jealous of her, Cal. She isn't half the woman you are...she's so wrapped up in herself, she doesn't really think anyone else is important. Shirik is selfish and self-absorbed. The only subject she's fluent on is herself. That's sad really."

Caly watched him as he spoke of Shirik. She only half listened to his words as all her focus was centered on intensely studying his eyes. When he finished speaking she let out the breath she'd been holding in a rather 'well holy hell', kind of huff. "She's not really selfish... She's just...royalty... I think they just see things differently," she replied in defense of her friend and brushed her fingertips over his lips again. "I'll try not to have that disgustingly female thing then. But I'm not promising anything..."

"I like that you're jealous." He grinned. "It means you care." He tapped the end of her nose with a finger and then brushed it against her lips.

"Hah..." She captured his finger between her teeth and then realized the foolishness of that action because now she couldn't talk. So she licked the end of his finger before releasing it and giving him a look. "I do care," she admitted softly. "More than I ever thought possible. And if you weren't so stubbornly persistent I think I could still be blissfully happy in the belief that I don't do relationships."

"Stubborn...that's me. Blissfully happy...that's me too." He grinned.

"Scoundrel...that's what you are." She smiled back and then sobered on a thought. "Are you blissfully happy, Jurell? Even though I can't put a name to what I feel?" Her eyes searched his and she barely breathed as she waited for his answer.

"Yes, I am," he replied simply. "I'm happy to be with you. I'm happy to know you care about me. I think there's enough time for you to put a name to how you feel. You want to be with me. That's enough for me. I could have lost you entirely..."

After a moment of utter and absolute silence, Caly let out the breath she'd been holding in a soft huff. "There better be enough time." Her fingers found their way into his hair and she brushed her lips over his. "Or I'll damn well figure out a way to make more," she assured him as her warm breath washed over his skin. "I do care about you. Deeply. And I do want to be with you." She tugged gently on his bottom lip. "Now... About my legs..." she whispered and finally pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

Jurell responded, the earlier mood changing to gentle tenderness as they kissed, and once again he did as she wanted. This time though he gently rolled her over and turned her onto her stomach, continuing the massage as she lay beside him, more intent on therapeutic ministrations than his earlier methods.

---

"Ice Cream and Pillow Talk"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd
Crewman First Class Sorg Jurell

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters
Stardate: 57910.26, 23h00

***

"What about you?" Jurell asked softly as he lay on his side, his body connected to hers from shoulder to feet as he rubbed her back with his left hand. "Are you happy?" She was facing him, and their heads were close as they jealously guarded the intimacy they'd created.

"Right this moment? Very," she answered quietly and cupped his face with a warm hand. The pad of her thumb brushed lightly over his lips. "Take away my problems and I could almost say 'perfect'."

"I'll try," he smiled. "From now on, transporters are off-limits to you." He turned his face into her palm and kissed the soft flesh, closing his eyes momentarily as he felt her hand curl gently and a shiver move through her body in reaction. "I want to make you happy," he whispered when he looked back into her eyes.

"You do," she admitted with a soft huff of breath. "You're spoiling me rotten. You make me forget the unpleasant things for a while at least." Her gaze was clear and untroubled at the moment and a small smile found its way to the curve of her lips.

She looked almost sheepish for a moment. "Off limits, huh? Then I probably shouldn't tell you that I've already used it, should I?" she asked.

"Probably not," he said, though his grin held a touch of relief to it. It hadn't been unheard of for Starfleet Officers to swear off transporters after such incidents and it became a career limiting factor. "You've got guts, girl," he said with a chuckle. "Just one of the many things I admire about you." He was still massaging her back as they spoke.

"You mean I'm too pig-headed for my own good, don't you?" She smiled a little and rubbed her fingers up and down his arm.

"Talking about being spoiled." He grinned at her. "How would you like some chocolate ice-cream?"

"I'd love some. And the massage is helping... I'm feeling some faint twinges in my legs.... Thank you."

"Good, I'm glad it's helping...seeing as my arm's about to drop off. The ice-cream was brilliant tactical diversion." He grinned wickedly and rolled off the bed.

"Hah! Scoundrel!" she called after him, laughing a little as she did.

A few moments later he returned with two heaped bowls. "I love replicators." He sat beside her and propped up her pillows. He waited until she sat up and gave her the bowl, then rested against the view port as he spooned a mouthful. "Love this stuff. I think this has got to be the most significant cultural addition that Humans have made to the Federation. I don't think there's a race in the Galaxy that doesn't get addicted to chocolate."

"That's because," she waved her spoon around a bit from her little nest of pillows. "There is some oddball chemical in it that makes you feel good. Does something to the brain, I think," she informed him and slipped a spoonful into her mouth before sagging back with a heartfelt sigh of pleasure. "Was your arm really about to drop off?"

"Give it a few minutes and it'll be good as new," he grinned and ate another mouthful. "Your legs still tingling?" he asked as he mashed the ice-cream with his spoon. He liked it smooth and creamy and so stirred it, a look of supreme concentration on his face.

Caly looked up at his question and blinked. Her hands were going through a similar motion to mash and stir the ice cream until it was smooth. The fact that they both liked it that way couldn't help but make her smile. "Um-hmm. It's spotty, but at least it's there. I'm sure that means everything's going to be okay. I just want it to be okay now."

"Yeah...me too." He noticed what she was doing and grinned, shaking his head and laughing softly. "Amazing." He looked at her and raised a brow. "Spotty?"

"Not all over. Just in spots," she explained. "My father told me they used to have machines that gave you ice cream like this." She waved a spoon of the stirred concoction at him. "They called it 'soft serve' or something like that, I think."

"Maybe you could make one..." he suggested with a hint of mischief. He had another spoonful.

His suggestion sucked her right into the possibility and her mind was already running through what she'd have to do to make it a reality. "Hmm... Probably. All I'd have to do is access the archives and find the schematics for one. Should be easy enough to replicate the parts," she agreed and then eyed him as that hint of mischief finally registered. "What are you up to, huh?"

"Nothing." He grinned. "Not a thing."

"Hah! You are so fibbing." She dipped her finger into the ice cream in her bowl and flicked a tiny bit at him. Then she had the balls to look like she hadn't done a thing. Not a thing. She even took a bite of ice cream and smiled at him as she licked the spoon.

Jurell laughed and dipped his spoon and then just as casually dropped a dollop of the ice confection right into her belly-button. As she squealed with the cold sensation in her naval he bent over and licked it off, finally kissing her belly and chuckling as she gasped at the cold turning to heat.

"Oh you are a scoundrel!" she laughed and looked down at him. "Worse," her voice softened and she smiled. "And I gotta tell you... That's not a very practical way to eat ice cream. Not to mention it's probably going to make my belly all sticky," she added practically. Her fingers were lightly combing though his hair as she spoke. "So I won't be able to roll over in the middle of the night because my stomach will be stuck to the sheet." She was rambling a little now.

"Uhuh," he grinned and kissed her naval again. This time he softly bit her skin and trailed kisses up to the midriff of her top before rising and kissing her lips.

"Oh... Uh... Jure-- AAH! Christ..." she shuddered and stared at him as he closed the distance between their mouths. "You're confus--" she managed to get out before his lips claimed hers. The kiss deepened and the fingers of her free hand wove into his hair as if she needed to hold him there. By the time he pulled back, he'd stolen her breath again and she was gasping softly for air.

He grinned with that same mischievous expression as he drew back and dipped his spoon into his bowl and ate. "Can't have you all sticky can we?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

Caly was still breathing erratically as she eyed him and that mischievous look. "Y-You're up to something..." she accused and pointed a finger at him. "What are you up to, huh? And don't feed me that 'nothing' story." His grin was infectious and she couldn't help smiling back. Her free hand was now rubbing her skin where he'd kissed it.

He laughed, "Honest, I'm not up to anything...except maybe to make you laugh and be happy. You have such a wonderful smile, and a really girlie giggle," he teased as he tickled her tummy, "and a very tasty navel."

She laughed and swatted his hand. "It's easy to laugh and be happy when I'm with you," she admitted. "And I do not have a girlie giggle!" she made a face at him. "Do I?"

"Oh yes," he nodded emphatically. "That's not a bad thing...it's cute." He casually put his bowl aside and suddenly pounced on her, his fingers reaching for the sensitive spots on her sides. He laughed as she squealed again and smacked at him with her free hand and held her bowl of ice cream away from them with the other.

"Cut that out!" she laughed and then threatened, "Or I'll dump this on you!"

He backed off, still laughing, knowing that she would indeed dump the bowl on him. He held both hands up before him in surrender, and as she laughed he snatched the bowl out of her hands and put it aside, leaving her armed with a spoon as he grinned. "That looks like a very dangerous weapon you have there," he chided, and pounced once again, laughter renewed as he made her shriek and squirm.

"No fair!" she squealed in laughter and thumped on his back with both hands, including the dangerous spoon she was wielding. Then she tried to grab at his hands and protect her ribs at the same time. She didn't have a prayer of succeeding. His hands were way too big.

"Scoundrel!" she cried out, still laughing and trying to think of a different tactic to get him to stop. It didn't occur to her to just tell him to. Not until she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly did she murmur, "...stop."

Jurell stopped, and surrendered to the kiss instead. He gently drew her down to the bed and wrapped her into an embrace that pressed them both together, and cold lips became hot as the kiss grew in intensity.

---

"Ravishing"
By: Lyrr Tayla

Location: XO's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.26, 23h29

***

Fingers threaded gently through her hair pulled Lyrr Tayla up, her eager lips spreading kisses as she went, until her head breached the darkness and emerged from beneath the sheet. She was greeted by the soft illumination of two wall sconces lit on either side of the bed, but found his voluptuous smile and sparkling eyes were far brighter.

With her head upon his stomach, she grinned with delight in knowing she had pleased him so. He was heavy-breathed and his long fingers had untangled themselves to barely stroke her hair. As vague as the signs were, they were still enough to prove she had not disappointed him. Above all else, she feared that - she feared failing him. But this time, she had not, and he further indicated as much when he grasped her chin to raise her head.

Their eyes met and her already shallow breath hastened. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, removing the remaining traces of her deed. "You learn quickly," was all he said, studying her with dispassion, yet a trace of curiousity. He always gazed at her as if she were an oddity, but as long as he was looking at only her, she took no offense.

His hand abruptly released her face, but it remained upturned to him, as did her awesome, doting smile. It seemed to unnerve him, and black eyes narrowed as he took a handful of her loose hair to rather indelicately draw her up further. She no longer winced at his rough treatment and, instead, eagerly lay beside him, even seeking to wedge herself under his arm so that it draped around her shoulders. He allowed it to remain there, but left it slack and offering little warmth. Still, his fingers unconsciously twined her hair as it fell well past her shoulders and onto his hand; he had always expressed such appreciation for her youthfully vibrant, brown curls.

They lay in silence as normally occurred while he recovered from her ministrations, but tonight he seemed particularly interested in scrutinizing her instead of merely staring off into the distance. She preferred him either way, as long as she could admire him.

"Were the others very rough today?" he asked perfunctorily, but to her, he always sounded tender and caring. A sigh escaped her broken lip as the pads of his gray fingers inspected the scab. "I will tell them to take care with your face. A toothless smile is undeniably an unattractive one."

She murmured a thank-you, taking the opportunity to taste his fingertips. He pulled them away before she could place a kiss upon them, but her disappointment was quickly forgotten as his hand dropped to her chest. She shuddered when it enveloped her left breast, but groaned as the increasing pressure aggravated the bruised flesh. Her discomfort was encouragement for him to continue, and a show of pleasure, even feigned, was what she offered him in appreciation.

He pressed her fully onto her back with that one powerful hand, then removed it to clutch the sheets and toss them away from her. The cool air on her exposed skin raised goosebumps everywhere but the patches of scarred flesh left pale and lifeless; not even his touch could restore sensation to them, but the rest of her body was set aflame by it, no matter how lacking in affection he sometimes was. Like now.

"You shouldn't hate me, Tayla," he told her, while his hand smoothed over her abdomen. Her stomach tightened against the pain of her fresh bruises, but he still managed to stir her passions. She whimpered softly and traced the bone ridges running along the curve of his neck. He crushed her hand in his and threw it aside to land splayed atop the mattress. Her grin broadened.

"I do not hate you," she told him softly. His stony expression remained unchanged as he examined her body further, visually and physically. She moaned for him when he stroked one slender thigh.

"They say you don't scream, no matter what they do," he mused.

"Only for you," she breathed. "I only ever scream for you." She achieved a brief twitch of his lips, nearly a smile. That was enough for her.

"It doesn't please me to let them have you, Talani," he explained, his pensive, intent gaze following his hand's course. "If they suspect you are my favourite, some ruthless individual could attempt to harm you to gain leverage against me."

Her eyes grew wide, though not with shock upon hearing her life might be in jeopardy someday; rather, she was overjoyed that he had chosen her as his favourite. Lyrr sighed contentedly and parted her legs for Oresh. His hand dipped between to caress her inner thighs. "For your own safety...I will endure the punishment," she whispered unsteadily.

That earned Lyrr a chuckle, his mellifluous, baritone voice resonating through her. She shuddered and eagerly reached for his slick, black hair. Again he slapped her hand away.

"I am destined for greatness," he told her, though she had heard the same before, and it filled her with pride. It also filled him with an intensity she knew well, just as well as she knew the ache it would leave her with come morning. She relished the pain, but only when it was inflicted upon her by Oresh.

It became difficult to breathe when he bore his weight down upon her, but nothing could diminish her smile. "If they realize you are my weakness," he grunted, pushing roughly against her, "my future will be threatened. For every bruise, you bring me one step closer to a seat on Cardassia Prime." He pinned her arms down when she gripped his shoulders, yet her smile broadened and her eyes looked upon him with near delirium.

"I won't be the cause of your failure...I-I promise. They can do what they like to me...I won't ever complain." But her heartfelt vows went unheard, or ignored, as Oresh focused on the singular act driven by his desire for domination, and not simply of Tayla. The pain was irrelevant, and almost welcome now, for despite his lack of tenderness, any time he spent with her was an expression of his love and devotion.

"When you return," she asked breathlessly, "will you take me with you?" Her eyes became mesmerized by the light catching his swaying hair as he moved against her. Just as he adored her hair, she adored everything about him. How could her people possibly despise his race?

"Remember what I said, Tayla." He paused to bite his lip with the next forceful effort. Tayla cried out thickly, and barely noticed her hands going numb as he constricted her wrists painfully. "They may try to hurt you to get to me," he finished. And just as she thought all her hopes were to be dashed, Oresh grinned. "But...I can perhaps be persuaded."

Spirits uplifted, Tayla sighed happily and closed her eyes, chanting in time with Oresh's pace, "Please take me with you. Please take me with you. Please take me with you..." Even in her sleep the words uttered incoherently from her smiling lips.

Rousing in a darkened, unfamiliar room, Lyrr stopped cold. She was alone in bed, devoid of Oresh's warm touch. Looking straight ahead through the viewport, stars dotted space, and their penetrating light was enough to pierce the haze confusing her mind. She remembered her quarters, now, and recalled Ben deciding to work double shifts. The most distressing realization was that she was no longer a teenager, and no longer under Oresh's keeping.

Her emotions confused her, as did the sensations still burning within -she was both saddened, and aroused. But accompanying them both was nausea in having felt such emotions at all for a man who wasn't Ben, and a man who had hardly deserved her love.

Shaking her head wildly in denial, Lyrr staggered out of bed and rushed for the refresher, for a cold shower that could cleanse it all away. But could it rid her of the memory that she had, for even the scantest of moments, pined for Oresh? She was willing to try, and closing herself in the shower without sparing a second to shed her clothing, she yearned for oblivion.

---

"Going Slightly Mad"
by Tebrianne Bancroft
and Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.26, 23h30

***

Except for herself and her guitar, the room was empty. It was supposed to be a lounge, but most of the crew was elsewhere doing other things. From what Tebrianne had heard, this particular lounge didn't see much traffic. It was the perfect place to spend time alone, to lose herself in her guitar for an hour or two. It took a moment to realize the song she'd chosen was one she and Ben wrote together. A smile came to her lips as she worked through the series of chords, but inside felt a bitter loss. Soon she'd be leaving, and she'd likely never see him again.

With eyes squeezed shut, she played on. How many songs would it take before her heart felt free? Inside, she knew no number of songs would do it. He was inside of her and always would be. There was no escaping what he felt for her, and what he still felt for her. Ben was right...it wasn't fair.

Time seemed to slip away and she switched from song to song, easily transitioning from one to the next. A thin sheen of sweat covered her body as she played, as it always did when she gave herself over to the music.

The skirt she wore clung to her legs, but while she sat on the floor playing it made little difference to her. As with the skirt, her sleeveless top stuck to her skin, and she knew she'd need a shower later. Perhaps the water would help make her feel clean again. Her hair hung down in her face, natural brown with crimson tips today...though who knew what it would be tomorrow. Her sandals were tossed off to the side without care; when she decided to leave, it would be a chore to get the long straps untangled and laced back up.

As she was about to switch songs, a sound at the door caught her attention. She opened her eyes, and as she did, she felt him through the bond they shared. Her heart ached to reach out to him, but she knew she couldn't. Tebrianne looked up, and there he was, standing in the doorway.

"Ben..."

Benedict was leaning against the wall, just inside the door. Partly in shadow from the low lighting levels of the Lounge, he'd been listening for the last couple of songs. She'd been lost in her world of music; a place they had shared so many times in the past, but now it seemed lost entirely to Benedict. He'd tried to play again, and he'd done so a few times here himself, but it just rang false. When Tebrianne had died she had taken that part of him with her. Seeing her, listening to her voice...it was more pain than he'd ever imagined it would be.

The darkness hid the tears, but he couldn't hide from her mind. "Hey," he managed to say. It sounded lame. He hadn't planned on meeting her here, he'd come for someplace to think, but once he'd heard her voice he'd been drawn like a sailor to the siren's song of old.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was...was just finishing up. I'll 'ead back to my quarters now. I wasn't making too much noise, was I?"

He almost laughed. "Noise? Since when did you ever make noise?" He took in a ragged breath and, still in shadow, he wiped his eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Teb. Least of all for singing...never that." He stepped closer. "Don't stop...it's been...a long time. All I have are recordings, and they never were the same..."

She watched him, unable to shift her eyes from his gaze, and moved her hands back to the strings of her guitar. She started playing once more, a new song she'd written just a year ago. It was shortly after they'd come through the wormhole into this region, and she found herself missing Ben more than ever. The song, of course, was to him. It seemed as if all her songs were to him. She quickly shifted her thoughts fully to the song itself, because if she hadn't, her next thought would have been, Now, my songs will be to no one, since he's mine no longer. She looked up at him, the way he watched her, the way he listened. "I wrote this last year," she explained with a smile. "I was missing you quite a lot at the time. It's called The Stars in Your Eyes."

He sat and watched as she started to play. A part of him wanted to leave so that he didn't have to endure the pain of seeing her heart ache, but he was simply unable to do so. Her voice had always captivated him, since the first time she had sung to him so long ago. He couldn't walk away when her eyes pleaded with him to stay. He heard the notes and the chords as if they pulsed to the rhythm of his heart beat and with every word she sang he felt through the bond the longing and the loneliness of how she'd felt when she wrote the song.

Tebrianne looked up at Ben once the song ended. She gave him a soft smile, then laughed. "I missed you quite a lot," she said. "As you can probably tell. I wrote quite a few more, but I'm not sure if I'll have time to sing them for you." She stopped talking and just watched him, feeling his pain as much as he was feeling hers. Why did things have to happen like this? Where had they gone so wrong? "I'm going to miss you, Ben."

He nodded, unable to say anything for the moment. After a sigh of pent up breath he whispered, "I missed you so much, Teb...I thought that you were dead and I...I gave up. This is my fault...all my fault." He stared at his hands, unable to look up at her. "I'm sorry, Love, I don't know what to do...I don't want you to leave, Teb, but I know what staying would do to both of us. I don't know, Teb..."

"I know," Tebrianne said. "I know that...that I can't be a part of your life any longer, not without horrendously complicating things."

"To hell with complications," he looked up at her. "We're still bonded, aren't we?" he asked rhetorically. "It'll never go away. Not unless you bond with someone else..." He gazed into her dark eyes, "And we both know how likely that will be..." He shook his head. "No matter how far away you are, we'll still feel each other. I was talking to Shirik about her bond with Saavar. She was afraid that it would make her love him...and I felt that way too for a while. I have so many memories of what we shared. So many of your memories are still in here," he said as he tapped his forehead. "I've asked myself countless times since you got back, just what it was I wanted. I just know that I don't want you to leave, and that's unfair. I'm so confused, mixed up I don't know...one minute I want you gone so that we don't inflict more pain on each other, and the next I don't care about the pain, I just want to be selfish and keep you here...and there's Tayla...." He shook his head.

Teb laughed softly. "And, so we're back to complicated," she said. "What we have was there before our bond. I think what we shared, it only strengthened it. From what I heard from Shirik, their feelings came after the bond. I don't really know how it'll affect things though. I just know you and I were in love before we ever melded. And...and I don't want to leave either, Ben. I don't want to face the thought that I'll be going through my life without you anywhere near. It's selfish, I know...but...but I can't stop loving you."

"I know," he breathed in a whisper, "and I can't stop loving you either." He looked into her chocolate eyes and nodded. "I know that we loved before we bonded. I know that. It's just that for five years it's been a constant reminder of what I'd lost. It never let the memories fade, and it was only pain and loss. I didn't know it was because you were still alive...trapped in another bloody universe." He shook his head and his fist clenched by his side in frustration. "If I'd only known...I'd have come for you, Teb. Someway, somehow, I would have managed it...but I thought you were dead. If I'd known...I wouldn't have been with Tayla. But I am...and I love her too."

"I know," Teb said softly. "And, I know that one of us can't have you...I can't. It's not fair."

"Prophets I wish this was all just a bad dream." He buried his face in his hands. "It's not fair on you, Love, and I can't...can't take it back. What are we going to do?" he asked softly.

"What can we do, Ben?" Teb asked. "There's a part of me that wants to say have us both, but I know she wouldn't go for that and I know you wouldn't. So, you get one of us, and the other... There aren't a lot of options for a former lover, as much as I wish there were."

He had to chuckle at that. "Jules would have liked that." He shook his head thinking about the Engineer on the Windsor. "Tayla definitely wouldn't...and you're right, it would probably kill me," he looked ruefully at her. They had been so very passionate as lovers. "It would definitely kill me," he added. "I don't want to hurt you, Teb. You don't deserve this...mess."

"Deserved or not," she said, "I'm in it...for as long as I'm 'ere. And, Jules would definitely 'ave loved it. At least I'll be leaving soon, and...and won't have to. I know...it can't work with me here, and you with her. And...I'll only just continue to cause you pain. I don't want that. I love you, Ben. More than anything...and...and I'd be afraid if I stayed...because I...I want to be with you so much..."

Benedict nodded, knowing that she spoke the truth. She would always be a temptation. Constantly in his mind as a reminder of what they had, it would steadily undermine everything he had with Lyrr. She would be there, day after day, and he would feel her longing and her desire to be with him, and he knew that he loved her too. He also knew that she would try and take what she considered hers.

Five years in the Alternate Universe had changed her, but not by much. Even when they'd first met, she had had no qualms about being with a married man. Benedict could never trust in the only friends category as far as Tebrianne went. He knew too that Lyrr would steadily become paranoid and jealous; possessive. She had those qualities about her that Benedict didn't appreciate, but he understood them, and he loved her anyway. It was clearly a Lose-Lose-Lose situation for them all if she stayed, or went.

He had already come to terms with losing Tebrianne, and now it was her turn to come to terms with that loss. He couldn't change it. Stealing a runabout and running away with her just wasn't on the cards. Leaving Tayla for Tebrianne and staying on Sulu wasn't an option for either of them even if he could choose that. The simple fact was that Benedict couldn't leave Lyrr. He loved her too much to do that, and he didn't love Tebrianne enough. "I'm sorry, Teb," he said so softly that it was barely audible. "I love, Tayla."

"I'm sorry too, Ben," Tebrianne said. "I'm sorry the misfortunes of my life have left me where I am. I'm sorry that when you told me of your affair with Cathy Page I got upset instead of fighting to hold onto you. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to patch things up. I'm sorry I accepted that Away Team mission. I'm sorry I was captured and everything that went with it. I'm sorry I spent the last five years in hell wishing you'd come find me, only to have you find me too late. And, I'm sorry I was rescued at all because there's no place for me in either universe now."

"I had to come to terms with losing you for a long time," he said, staring at the floor. "It's not fair, but that's our karma. You died five years ago for me. I had to move on because if I hadn't...I'd be dead too. I've spent a long time grieving over you, Teb. I can't grieve any more. I can't go through it again. I just can't...I blamed myself for what happened to you. I went through your...time with Marco as if it was me...I felt you die. I was the Windsor's Security Chief, and it was my responsibility to keep you safe. I failed. It wasn't your fault...any of it. You just have to let me go, Teb." He looked up into her eyes. "You have to let me go. You deserve better than me."

"It'd be much easier if I felt I belonged here anymore," Teb said. "I walk down the corridors of the ship, and they look at me as if I'm the enemy. I don't fit. I don't know, Ben...I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, where I'm supposed to go. I'm sure I'll figure it out when I'm away from here...but right now, all I can see is what I've lost and can never get back again."

He nodded. "Yes, I know...this is a good crew, Teb, give them a chance to get to know who you are. They'll come around. You have a way with that kind of thing. Trust is earned, and they'll give you a chance to fit in. I know that it will be hard for us. It doesn't matter how far away you go, we'll still be bonded. It's not my choice to make for you to go or to stay. It would certainly make it easier on Tayla if you went, but I can't fault you if you choose to stay. Whatever you choose to do, we'll manage somehow."

"But what about having to start over?" Teb asked. "Do you want me to stay, Ben? Or, do you think I should go?"

He looked into her eyes for a long moment, the bond a palpable thing between them as he said, "You already know the answer to that."

Tebrianne nodded. "I know," she said. "And...and I know it can't happen. Maybe when I get back to Earth, things will be better."

"I don't want you to go, and I don't want you to stay. How screwed up is that?" he said mockingly. "It won't be better anywhere," he admitted. "The bond we share doesn't just go away does it? So you'll always be in my thoughts and I'll be with yours." He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a long sigh. "I don't know, Teb, I just don't know...I'm not equipped to deal with this. I'm floundering, indecisive, mixed up, screwed up...emotionally a mess. Maybe we can work through it. We haven't really tried."

"Maybe when the Sulu's mission is finished out here, and you get back to the Alpha Quadrant," Teb said, her tone morose, "we could go to Vulcan, and they could...they could remove it, the bond."

He looked up at her then. "Shirik asked me that question yesterday. She asked me if I could, would I remove it?" He sighed and he looked away from her. "I said no..." He shook his head. "I wouldn't...I can't..." His violet gaze lifted to meet hers. "I wouldn't be the same..." And in that admission was the reality that he still couldn't let her go.

"No matter what we do," Teb said sadly, tears brimming in her eyes, "we lose. I have to go back, though. My being here, it'll only cause problems."

He couldn't stand there and watch her cry, it was more than he could bear and before he realized it he'd taken that step toward her and she was in his embrace. Benedict's arms circled her shoulders and he held her to him. His hand reached up into the glossy mane of her hair and he ran his fingers through it automatically as he tried to comfort her. "We've lost so much already," he whispered close to her ear. "I still love you. I always will. Nothing can change that. I don't want to let you go back home. Sulu is short handed and Zareb is taking Ensign Vijay back with him on the Nightingale. Stay...we need helm officers and you are the best pilot I've ever seen. If that's reason enough for you...but I don't want you to leave."

Once she was in his arms, she couldn't let go. She looked up, his eyes so deep and beautiful. "I'll think about it," she said. "I really will. Even though...I don't think I could ever leave you, Ben. I don't think I could ever be away...to not be near you. Not if you want me near. I'll always love you."

His emotions were in turmoil. The conflict was still strong: stay or go? He felt like a fool. One minute he wanted her gone and the next he couldn't bear her to leave. It was tearing him apart slowly, undoing his mind, unravelling his spirit and breaking his heart all over again. Benedict T'Kal was in a dilemma that he didn't know how to deal with. He loved Tebrianne and he was in love with Tayla. He couldn't leave Tayla and he couldn't be with Tebrianne, but he wanted to do both and neither at the same time. How could he be so torn? Feeling the woman in his arms gripping him tightly, feeling her despair and her aching heart's loss he couldn't deny her; he was incapable of denying her. She had been his lover, his fiancée, his Betrothed and his Soul Mate. Yet he felt the same thing with Lyrr Tayla. He felt true despair at that moment. No matter what he did, it would tear him asunder. He stood, holding her tightly as if she would disappear if he didn't. Tears welled in his eyes and fell from violet eyes that stared but saw nothing.

Tebrianne continued to hold him, unsure what to do. After several moments, she reached and brushed the tears away with a thumb. "We'll figure something out," she whispered. "We'll figure some way for this to work." She leaned up and brushed her lips against his chin. "We'll figure it out."

He let out a long sigh, finally blinking as if he'd been unaware of his surroundings. He nodded mutely and as she touched her lips to his chin he closed his eyes. How could he figure this out? He needed to talk to Bree. She would know. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "All I can do is cause you pain...you don't deserve this."

"Par for the course," Tebrianne said softly. "All I've had is pain, and compared to some, pain with you near is better than pain without you. But in ways it's not. I don't know, Ben. If I stay, it's just going to be like this. It'll be doubt and uncertainty...and...and Lyrr hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," he replied, "she just sees you as a threat to our relationship. She's been through a lot, Teb. In that you and she share a similar history..." He sighed, idly stroking the back of her neck as they stood together. "I'm the first guy that she's ever let get close to her. I'm committed to her, Teb, I love her. Prophets, I don't want to hurt either of you..."

"You may not want to hurt either of us, Ben," Teb whispered. "But you're going to have to. I don't think you'd opt for any of the alternatives that would allow you not to hurt us...and even then, there'd still be pain."

"I don't regret finding you, and bringing you home, no matter how much pain it causes me." He looked down into her dark eyes. "I'm sorry that it didn't happen sooner."

She was caught in his gaze as she looked up at him. "Me too," she said softly. "Our timing is bloody rotten." Tears brimmed in her eyes as the weight of what was to come settled on her. "I'm going to miss you so much if I go...or if I stay. If I stay, you'll be so close...but still out of reach."

"I know, Love," he breathed as her brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Our timing has always been rotten...at least that's consistent." He wiped a tear from her cheek, mesmerized once more by the sheer depth of her eyes. The moment seemed to last forever between one breath and the next and he could feel the palpable pull as if they were opposite poles of a magnet being brought closer by the bond they shared. He felt the desire to lean down and kiss her and for a moment that pull became almost irresistible. He drew in a ragged breath and looked away from her eyes, breaking the spell that had gripped him and he took an involuntary step back from her. His violet eyes were filled with confusion and then when he looked back into her eyes, at the dark sadness he saw there he said, "I'm sorry, Teb."

"I know," Tebrianne said as she took a couple steps back. She'd felt the moment as he came forward, and then pulled away. It was a cup of water in the hot desert pulled away just before it reached her lips. The turmoil within her, the need for him to be close, raged. A ragged sob was torn from her lips as she pushed herself back away. "Oh Ben...I 'ave to leave. I 'ave to go. I can't live like this. The closeness, then bloody distance'll kill me. When Zareb goes, I 'ave to leave or I'll go bloody insane."

He knew what she meant. It was already unhinging him, he was so caught up in the forces acting upon him that, like a matter stream close to the event horizon of a Black Hole, he was being torn apart and sucked into a black ragged void. He wanted to be free of the confusion that seemed to be rampant in him. For the first time in his life, Benedict was like a reed in the wind, leaning in whichever direction the wind blew, unable to set his feet to a true course and finding nothing but loss and pain in any direction.

He nodded mutely, unable to look into her eyes to see the pain he was causing her. He wanted to run and hide; he wanted to hold her and protect her. He stared sightlessly at the floor, backing away as she had done. "I'm sorry," he said as he spun on his heels and left hurriedly. He didn't even know where he was headed, it was just an instinctive urge to gain distance and he left the Lounge and Tebrianne behind.

Tebrianne watched him go with an intense anger and sadness building in her. She had to get free of this place and Ben before it tore her in two and destroyed her completely. She knew if she didn't get free, get away, it would destroy them both. They had to be free of one another or they were done for. But how could she when she loved him so much?

It was so unfair! To punctuate the emotion, Tebrianne whirled and sent the guitar flying. She watched helplessly as it shattered and splintered against the bulkhead, sending a spray of wooden shards everywhere. She squeezed her eyes shut and sought calmness. She was going mad, and the way Ben kept moving close and rushing away wasn't helping. With a sob, she turned and rushed for the door, pausing long enough to pick up her discarded sandals. She couldn't take much more of this.

---