Mission day: 03
Mission time: 1715
Scene: Holodeck 1, USS Wolverine

	 Thomas was leaving the holodeck a very satisfied man. His hunt had gone well
but he didn't have the heart to finish his prey. Instead, he watched it back
away in fear, crying and pleading for his life. Of course, Thomas never had any
intention of killing the arrogant bastard. Only scared him of. A little. Now
Wilcox knew better then to insult him. Terrorized, the man had agreed to leave
the holodeck and never speak of his "lesson". Thomas believed him. He knew the
effect fear could have on someone. Wilcox wouldn't be bad mouthing him for a
while.

	 After cleaning up the holodeck, he decided to go back to his quarters and take
a shower. He would then prepare himself for a night out on the Starbase. He had
never been to this Starbase before and wanted to explore it, from top to bottom.
Maybe he would find another weird alien bar like the last time he adventured on
Azeri base with Joselyn? Probably not though Thomas as he finished shaving and
went on to put on a fresh uniform. Looking in the mirror, he knew he hadn't
looked that good since he was on Turpare. In the back of his mind, a distant
voice agreed with him, similarly satisfied.

	 He would be doing another kind of hunting tonight. He had been alone for a
while now and wanted to change that. Women loved men in uniform and he thought
it wouldn't be hard to seduced a young and beautiful civilian lady and bring her
back here. So Marsha was gone? Big deal! It was her lost, not his. He knew he
was already over that ungrateful bitch anyway.


Mission time: 1845
Scene: Lyara's Entertainment lounge, Starbase 112

	 The Wolverine's chief science officer was sitting at the bar with his drink.
From his seat, he had spotted a young human redhead drinking with a friend. The
woman was familiar but he couldn't recall how. Looking at each other, they
exchanged smiles. Thomas had enough experience to know that was his cue.


Lt. Commander Thomas Beliveau
Chief Science Officer
USS Wolverine
Player: Marc-Andre






       __________________________________________________________________
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******************
MD: 05
Time: 1345 hours
Scene: Bridge – USS Regalia
******************

There was a virus floating through the systems of the Regalia and that scared
the hell out of her.  Makenlyn had more than just the away team to worry about. 
There was the Asimov, all of the souls on board which included her two children.
She took some time to think about the situation.  At the very least, it was
comforting to have everyone in the away team on the bridge for the time being.

"I need to be able to get into the ship's systems," Makenlyn said quickly.

"Not a problem, Ma'am," Devyn responded quickly.

"I want to be put in with command authorization," she corrected and looked
between Steele and Edem.  She wasn't sure which one would have an easier time
making the adjustments, but she felt like this needed to be accomplished first. 
Everything else could be sorted out after this was done.  She refused to let
anyone possibly compromise the Asimov because of poor judgement.

Edem looked at Makenlyn, and crossed her arms over her chest. Turning her eyes
to Devyn, she shrugged. "We could put our codes in together, make sure
everything's completely unlocked."  

She didn't like ghost ships, and viruses were high on her list of things she
found unpleasant. if it wasn't a such a waste of property, she'd incinerate the
ship from orbit and be done with it.

"I don't… it might work."  Devyn nodded still not touching the controls.  "I
noticed something odd in the virus code."  He looked between the two women.  "It
can replicate itself."

He paused for a second, "if we loop around to another unaffected system we might
just have enough time to give you command authorization before the virus infects
the system we're on."  If they choose the right system one that wasn't too
important it could be done.  There was no getting around a system being infected
once they try to access it, at least not that he could find.

"I want to be able to lock out systems," Makenlyn confirmed with a nod.  "If
that means that we need to go straight to the core of where the ship's systems
are located then let's do that."  She didn't care at the moment much but to make
sure that containment was...well contained.  "We keep the Asimov and its crew
safe.  That's our chief objective right now."

Edem gnawed on the inside of her lip and thought for a moment.  After dismissing
a few ideas, she tapped Devyn's shoulder.  "What if we go in through something
unimportant, something mostly dormant...secondary tractor control or waste
processing.  That system should accept the commander's codes just as well as the
rest and far enough away to be a mostly unaffected system.  What do you think?"

"Well you want all the systems locked out? Or just the infected systems?" Devyn
questioned, glancing over at Macklyn as he walked up to the console he was just
at.  He really didn't want to log into anymore systems but if the Commander
wanted them locked off, he'd do it.  "I think going through waste processing
would be our safest bet.  There are too many things that are connected to
tractor control that could get infected by accident."

"I want to be able to lock down every single system if I deem it necessary.  I
want to only have systems activated with my authorization," she explained. 
Makenlyn looked at them and then glanced at T'Lin and Kastner.  "I think that
it's best we think of those we may endanger accidentally as we try to figure out
what's going on here."

"Waste processing it is then," Edem said, moving to the science station.  "At
least we're doing it without actually being there, right?"

"You mean without me being in there…" Devyn smirked, "you'd be waiting outside,
while I did all the dirty work."  He couldn't help but grin.  "But then again
the zombies would get you first…" Even though there was a crisis at hand he had
to poke fun at his Andorian friend, he found people seemed to work more
efficiently when they were more at easy.

"I think we're ready, Ma'am."  He looked up at the commander waiting for the go
ahead to being.

Makenlyn nodded.  She hoped that though she was sure she probably sounded
paranoid, that those on the away team understood.  "Do it," she urged.  It was
what needed to be done.  Makenlyn had learned to think of the bigger picture
over her years even when she was a lowly science officer.  You couldn't just
think about what was going on right then, you had to think of what could happen
and what could happen was a lot of things that would only get them all killed in
the end.  She would rather be irrationally cautious.

"You'd have to smell pretty bad to have the zombies ignore you," Edem murmured
as she typed in her codes next to Devyn.  "Might be better to be dead."

Devyn quickly began entering codes as they accessed the waste processing
systems.  It didn't take the virus long to start latching onto the system,
slowly taking control over it.  "Almost done…"  He glanced at Edem who was
working just as fast as he to get the codes in quick enough before the system
was complete taken over.  

"Just a few more…" Devyn muttered to himself before entering his last bunch of
codes.  His fingers stopped and he looked up at Macklyn, "it's done."

When it was needed, Makenlyn put in her codes as well.  "Lock all systems," she
repeated.  "Including communications and the transporters for now."

Turning to everyone and discussing it generally with the whole group, she knew
that there was much more to be done.  "I am going to need someway for us to keep
the Asimov from beaming people over, now I know that sounds odd, but we can't
risk exposing the Asimov or others to the virus."  She took in a breath and then
continued.  "We're also going to need to figure out a way to contact the Asimov
without using the systems in order to let them know what's going on and on top
of that we should assess rations as we're not sure how long we'll be here. 
Everything else, we'll deal with after."

***********************

Commander Makenlyn Macklyn
Executive Officer
USS Asimov
Played by Shannon

Ensign Devyn Steele
CEO – USS Asimov
Played by Pam

&

Ensign Iktoredem zh'Askenten
CSO – USS Asimov
Played by Opal

MD: 05
Time: 1325
Scene: Corridors
------------ --------- --------- ---

Jayln could not wrap her mind around what could possibly be going on down on the
surface.  The android caretaker, still for a lack of a better term to call him,
seemed overly eager to have them down on the surface, but had not given them an
overwhelming reason to not do so either.  At this point, she didn't see much of
a choice but to go down there and see for herself.

On the chance that there were medical reasons for this, she was on her way to
sickbay.  Jayln's basic medical skills were hardly going to be sufficient. 
Tamra would join her as well, counselors were often used in a diplomatic
capacity and again, there was perhaps a mental reason for the Reglia's lack of
response thus far.

All of the senior staff was occupied, or to be occupied, save one.  And, as
Jayln rounded a corridor corner, she found that one.  "Lt. Kahani," Jayln
greeted.  She glanced at the pilot, likely heading back up to the bridge.  "I
have not received word from the Away team as to if they will need you or not. 
They may have discovered a virus, which complicates things."  Jayln considered
another option for the pilot.  "I am assembling a team to investigate the
surface.  They have apparently `lost' the Regalia's captain and informed us if
we need her sooner rather than later, that we are welcome to attempt to locate
her ourselves.  None of our people down there are wearing their badges, so it's
almost impossible to determine who's who with any accuracy from up here.  We
couldn't beam them up at the moment if we wanted to either.  I can differentiate
individuals from one another from a pretty good distance, but we'd be able to
cover more ground with a shuttle."

"Is there another pilot you can have on standby for the Regalia away team to
open you up to join me?"

Sky glanced at the Captain as information flowed from her mouth. She displaced
the information that didn't seem important, absorbing the little that was.
"Search and rescue and I'm to pilot the shuttle to the planet. Sounds like a
plan to me."

It was strange that the ship was be totally abandoned and it was also strange
that the peeps of the ship would be so entertained that they would disregard
their Starfleet obligations...well, the second wouldn't be so strange for her
but there couldn't be another person in the universe like her. "So who will be
joining us?" came her reply as she headed towards the turbolift.

"Nottingham and Riley.  If there is any medical reason for why nearly 100 people
have decided to take a prolonged vacation without prior authorization, hopefully
they can discover it," Jayln answered.  "Though at the moment, it is plausible
that they had mechanical trouble.  Though the ship had checked out just fine its
last time in dock and at least visually doesn't seem to have anything wrong with
her now.  But this isn't a heavily travelled section of space.  If they didn't
have the means to communicate from the ship or the planet… but how the virus got
there, and apparently after they arrived here…is still a bit suspicious."  She
trailed off as she realized she was thinking out loud.

"Is there another pilot you can have on standby for the Regalia away team to
open you up to join me?"

"No worries, Cap." She hit her badge before the woman could reply. "Kahani to
Shutler. It's all you, hun. Heading planetside for a suntan. Kahani out." She
glanced at the Captain. "All taken care of."

Jayln arched a brow at the casual nature with which Kahani spoke to her fellow
pilot.  "This is hardly a vacation Lieutenant," Jayln commented, not entire
surprised by her general demeanor given her file.  And it was quite a file. 
"T'Lin noted some wreckage on the surface that we will also want to investigate.
She wasn't able to get an id on what it was.  For all we know it was one of the
Regalia's shuttles.  We haven't gotten a confirmed count if her full compliment
is there or not."

"Have the shuttle ready to go, with room for at least the four of us and the
Regalia's captain, for when we find her," Jayln ordered.  "Also, check if the
away team on the Regalia has counted the shuttles.  If they have and there is
one missing, that mystery is solved potentially.  If they have them all, see if
anyone else filed a flight plan past here in the last few months, maybe in the
past year, and not shown up at their ulimate destigation.  Its possible the
Regalia is not the only crew to have `too much fun' at the generosity of the
Paradisians."

Sky nodded as the woman spoke. She knew that this mission was far from a
vacation but if you didn't have fun with life, there wasn't much point in living
it. "I'll look into the shuttles and traffic. If it isn't a shuttle from the
other ship, I would guess it wouldn't be anything on file with Starfleet as it
probably would have been noted and looked into as soon as possible." She crossed
her arms over her chest. "I can look into other avenues to check it's identity
as well."

Sky was about to get to her tasks when she stopped. "If the whole crew is being
held on the planet and we know not everyone of their crew would forget to give
Starfleet a ring, should we bring something to cover our asses. I don't know
about your physical strength but I don't think I could handle fighting off an
andriod...and I consider myself stronger than most."

"I don't think anyone but an android could fight off an android," Jayln replied
solemnly.  "They haven't said to not come down armed, though they could also
take us carrying weapons as an affront to their hospitality," Jayln reasoned. 
"See what we have in the `discreet' weapons category and secure enough for all
of us.  Edem will probably insist on a security officer to go with us anyway, if
she hasn't relayed that to her department and assigned us an escort already. 
But I'd prefer not to advertize that we don't trust them, so the less obvious
the weaponry the better.  I don't know if they get mad, but I'd rather not find
out either."

Sky smiled and nodded. "I'll see what I could do. Not my area of expertise but
I'll figure out something." She started heading away to get her still mounting
tasks accomplished. "I'll see yah in a hot minute. Hope you don't have a problem
with motion sickness." She sent the woman a wink and headed away.

"It seems like you always do `figure out something'," Jayln mused as she watched
the pilot walk away from her and then she herself continued on her way.  Jayln
had a feeling this was going to be a very interesting away mission…on several
fronts.

As Jayln entered sickbay, a comm. call came over the speakers in the room. 
=^=Medical emergency.  Counselor Nottingham's quarters.=^=

----------------------
Capt. Jaylan Manayah
CO – USS Asimov
Writer: Dee

Lt. <jg> Sky Kahani
FCO - USS Asmiov
Played by Michelle

MD:18
Time: 1120
Scene: Captain's Quarters, USS Endurance
-----------------------------------

Soluk collected his tea and salad from the replicator and turned towards the
desk in his quarters. Tovin was seated at the table with Asim at his feet eating
the lunch that T'Zal had placed before him. T'Val was seated in T'Zal's lap, a
bottle propped in her mouth. It would have been a relaxing lunch if Soluk wasn't
also working at the same time. Instead of eating at the same table, he was
settling for the same room.

He sat down at his desk, the computer perched on top swiveled towards him. 
"Computer, playback footage." The ops department had been working tirelessly
reviewing footage that was being streamed from the colony, scanning it for
pertinent information related to the task at hand: determining what was the
cause for the missing Capernians and their missing memories when they did
return. They needed to gather as much information as possible before Raith
himself was affected. Soluk had yet to meet with Ensign McDonald on how best to
utilize his expertise, other than a few crewman who had been replicating
alternatively, popped corn kernels and coffee, as they watched the footage.

Though they did not have the means to communicate with Raith at will, Ashcroft
had given him her amulet so they could at least observe what Raith was seeing
and hearing. It did mean they could not receive communications from Ashcroft,
but they could communicate to her if the need arose. Though it was unfortunate
that Ashcroft had been taken from the temple, they reason for her removal was
potentially more beneficial since she would not have been allowed to keep direct
contact with Raith. If she could learn more about the Peri'gln, it could answer
other questions that had arisen since the Endurance's arrival to the
investigation, prompted by Raith's near abduction by the group. Had the
Endurance been aware of the organization and the selection of Ashcroft for the
assault team she was currently on, they could have been better prepared. As it
stood, they could only keep an eye on her vitals and wait for a verbal report
upon her return.

Soluk sipped his tea as he listened, the screen was primarily white and dark,
therefore there wasn't much to watch. The tour of the temple that Raith was
receiving was quite descriptive and was likely being dictated word for word by
the scientists at the observation post. As he listened he noted a movement near
his right. Soon two paws appeared next to Soluk against the desk. Mandi wore a
perplexed expression on her feline features and her ears twitched as she
attempted to determine Raith's location. Her paws disappeared and she skirted
under the desk to the other side repeating the look at the desk's surface. "He
is not here," Soluk voiced to the confused Nerus cat. When she began to circle
back towards his side of the desk again, he was uncertain if he would be able to
communicate Raith's actual location to her properly.

Looking towards the table, he noted Tovin already rising from the table in
anticipation of Soluk's request. Asim followed closely behind. The younger
feline seemed mellower than he had only a few days ago, though what the cause of
that was, Tovin's influence or Mandi's, he could not say.

Motion to his left, from the console drew both Soluk and Tovin's attention
towards the screen. Images began to fly by at dizzying speed until they began to
stabilize. Raith had pulled the amulet from the confines of his garments and
appeared to be hanging the amulet somewhere. When the image stabilized, Soluk
had an up close and personal image of Raith's face for a moment, before Raith
bowed and mumbled. Then he turned around and stepped away. Soluk then heard,
"You're welcome." A message clearly intended for those secretly watching.

Soluk's eyes widened slightly at the image that then appeared on the small
console screen. The architecture would have kept several anthropologists
occupied for years. It did not take Soluk long to realize what Raith had done. 
While they would once again be out of contact with him, and could potentially
lose track of him once again, he had presented them all with a first hand look
at where the ceremonies that had been theorized as the moment of abduction were
to take place. If the amulet would remain in its current location when the next
ceremony took place was unknown, but they would certainly make use of its
placement as long as possible.

At a distance from the amulet Raith appeared to turn back towards the concealed
camera inside the piece of jewelry and wave. Soluk's mouth twitched as Tovin
raised a hand in response before catching himself.

Tovin then knelt to place a hand on Mandi in an attempt to explain to her that
Raith, while not present, was alright. Soluk watched for a moment before turning
to watch the conclusion of Raith's tour before the footage that had been
selected for him to watch concluded.

=^= Sickbay to Captain Soluk. Sir, we've had a request from the observation
post, Ensign Antares to be precise, for a shuttle pickup, emergency. Ensign
Kennit was attacked and requires medical attention."

Then the bridge chimed in. =^=Confirmed Sickbay. We've had a request from the
station for a pilot. Orders Captain? =^=

Soluk considered the situation for a moment. The observation post was not
outfitted for medical emergencies and nor were Ashcroft or Parker available for
a security breach. "Send a shuttle. Maintain as high of orbit as possible and
return immediately after Ensign Kennit is transported aboard. Request Security
send an officer down, have a shuttle prepped immediately for departure."

=^= "Aye Captain" =^= came the response from the bridge. Sickbay announced it
would send a nurse along to stabilize Ensign Kennit until she was returned to
the Endurance.

Soluk glanced towards T'Zal. "I need to get back to the bridge."

--------------------
Captain Soluk
CO – USS Endurance
Writer: Dee

======================
MD: 18
Time:  1115
Scene: Observation Post;
         Corridor near the Science Lab
======================


The first sensation that slowly began to register in her mind was the taste of
iron on her tongue, heavy and metallic.. making her stomach churn with distaste.
Eyes opening, the bottom side of the lab chair a dark blur against the white
floor tiles.   The back of her head was hurting now as well, the ache rising in
intensity with alarming strength as she became more aware of it - almost as if
because of that same awareness.

Rhea had no idea why she was on the floor of..  she didn't know ..  It hurt to
think, all she really knew was that she hurt, and she wanted James!  She could
picture his features clear as a photograph, could almost hear his voice, smell
the subtle scent of his cologne and it was that sudden, strong need for him that
got her moving up, off the floor and to her feet.  Shaky, unsteady for a long
moment, finally she started to walk leaning heavily on the chairs and work
stations in reach for assistance as she walked, more like stumbled towards the
door.

The lights in the corridor outside made her cringe, too bright for her blurred
vision and aching skull.  One hand against the wall for balance, the other
shading her eyes from the light Rhea began to slowly walk down the corridor. 
She had to find James!   Had to find him.. tell him.. warn him..  tell him what?
Warn him about..  can't remember.. find James..  James will know..

After checking a couple of the labs and the other members on the Station, he
lifted a brow at one set of quarters where there was a life-size poster of
himself when he was in the San Fransisco Dynasty.  He caught his breath before
he turned and made his way down the halls.  Making notes to himself on the
tablet so he could compose a report for his Captain. he Paused...

He looked at his report to view the notation by the computer by a small
disruption.  His eyes watching as the report was logged in by computer then
removed.  oO(The hell?)  James thought as he turned and headed back toward the
labs..

Rhea stopped walking when she reached a cross-way in the corridor, confused. 
She didn't know where she was.. didn't know how to find James..  every beat of
her heart was like a sledgehammer smashing into her skull.  She couldn't think! 
Along with the throbbing ache was the ever-growing urgency to find James.  James
in charge.  She had to find him, warn him.. something was wrong..  he had to be
careful!  Be aware of.. of..

James tapped his Com badge.."Antares to Kennit..."  He said as he picked up the
pace, moving toward the labs again..

The sudden, seemingly hideously loud voice came out of nowhere scaring her half
out of her remaining wits!  Nearly falling flat, Rhea only just caught herself
against the wall.  Leaning her forehead against her wrist, she looked up and
down the hallway - seeing no one, confused and spooked now.. no one was there
but she'd heard a voice..

"Antares to Kennit...Rhea come in...!"  James repeated as he took off now in a
full bore run toward the labs.

Not quite so loud, the second time the voice came blasting out of nowhere
somewhere in her aching skull the connection was made this time and she
recognized that it was James' voice.  Without consciously knowing why she did
so, she reached up and touched the gold communicator pin on her uniform and said
with her words slurred, "James..  where are you?"

"Heading toward the labs..what's wrong..are you ok?"  he asked as he rounded the
corner and saw her at the end of the hallway.."Rhea!"  he yelled as he bolted
toward her, only slowing when he got near her to reach his arms out to support
her.

Too much noise!  Too much motion!  She was going to throw up..  closing her eyes
Rhea let him help with her balance issues since the floor was currently swaying
around like an ocean wave.  Leaning against him, fighting her stomachs rather
strident disapproval of the way the floor was swaying around she said simply, "I
gotta si'down.."  and proceeded to do just that, letting her legs drop so that
she was sitting on the floor, leaning against both James and the wall behind her
with her eyes still closed.

James held onto her as he eased her to the floor..."What happened.." he said as
he looked to her, immediately placing his hand on the cut on the back of her
head.

Her eyes opened, trying to focus on his face and from the dilation of her pupils
not having an easy time of it.  Shaking her head (which proved to be a bad idea
since it somehow made the floor heave even more nauseatingly under her rump)
Rhea said, "Don't know.  Can't 'member..  somethin's wrong.. had to find you.."

"Good god Rhea..."  James said as he held onto her.  Tapping his chest com...to
call someone in medical.  "Rhea concentrate..tell me what happened...who did
this?"

Mumbling into his shoulder, she answered ".. was on t'floor.. had to get up ..
tell you.."  Shifting against him, she added " ..  head's full of fog.."  As she
moved, her hair shifted to reveal a rounded bruise forming on her neck, about
the size of a small fingernail in width.  A bruise left by the force with which
Dr. Benning had jabbed the hypospray against her skin.

James looked at her neck and narrowed his eyes.  "What the..."  He said as he
took a breath.  "Where were you?"  He said as he kept his hand on the back of
her head.

"Mmmm.." she groaned, "..back there..  on'a floor.. big room..  'puters.. "

"One of the labs?"  James said as a couple medical personnel arrived, bending
over to begin to tend to Rhea.  "Hun is that what you said..something happened
in the lab?"

"Sir.."  A medical rat said as he turned to James.."She's been injected with
something..her neck.."  He said as he pointed it out.

"Who babe..who?"  James said as he started to grow angry.

"..dunno.." she drawled out, eyes closed again as she rested against him.

One of the medic's who'd arrived, a nurse said "Come on Ensign, I need you open
your eyes and stay awake.."

Rhea's response came without even trying to open her eyes, "..  fiv'more min'tes
mom..."

James tapped his com badge.  "Antares to Nurse Lewis...Genine I'm sending Ensign
Kennit to you..she's got a head wound and some other bangs and bruises..."  
James looked down to Rhea and placed a gentle hand on her face..."Hang in there
hun.."

She sighed a little, then mumbled "...not going to school t'day.."

James stood, and nodded to the medical attendants.."Take her to the fast evac
shuttle..."  He said.."I'm going to the Labs...only place I know with a lot of
computers and that's where she was anyways.."

"Aye sir," the medic answered.  "Do you wish for us to wait for you to arrive or
should we call for a pilot to convey the Ensign back up to the Endurance?"

"Call a pilot..I want her out of harms way.."  James said as he looked worriedly
down at Rhea before he took her phaser and tucked it in the small of his back. 
He turned, without saying anything else and ran toward the labs...


~tbc~

======================

Ensign Rhea Kennit
CSciO
written by:  Cyndi


Ensign James Antares
CFCO USS Endurance
Played by Jai

======================

MD:14
Time:08:45
Place: outside skolari airlock.
========= ========= =========

Hanson and Ens Ari proceeded out the door after being cleared for the
decompressive atmosphere.

"status check, all feedback nominal, air and power stable. " Hanson said as he
read his tricorder.

"Confirmed for me as well. All systems online and full capacity. So what exactly
are we after sir?" the large dinosaur like man said.

"I've just been needing to inspect the damage. I'm also recieving a 10% drain in
the systems power grid. So I'm thinking perhaps it's being drained somewhere
from a blown coduit or something.

Oh and please again like always, drop the sir stuff Hanson is fine. Hell I'll
even take chief whatever floats your boat"

Trolan let out a wailing laugh somewhere between a screech and dying targ.
Atleast that's what Hanson assumed judging by the smile afterwards.

"sorry I don't know why I found that so hilarious. Human humor just gets me. The
bolian on the other hand." trolan said as he pulled out his own tricorder.

"I know ferengi and the gorilla suit can only be told so many times. So what do
you prefer to be called? Or just keep calling you ensign?"

"Oh no please, since you've returned the respect of adressing you by your first
name, you may adress me as Trolan. But the same sign of respect would be to call
me Ari.

Our timpah, or last names as you would call it adress our families and our
status in our society, we are rather keen on our haritage."
Ari said as he begun to localize the diffrent power signatures being admitted
from around the station.

Hanson and Ari moved further along untill reaching the part of the station
missing the large portion of it's wall.

The blast pattens were strange indeed, the burn marks on the outside proved that
it had been cut or blown away from the outside.

"umm chief what do you make of these?" Ari pointed to four sections of the hull
that look like something had basicly latched onto the station.

"I dunno that's real strange. I'll submit it to the science team for further
inspection. I can't make heads or tails of this. " hanson replied back.

"yeah me neither I can do anything in the engine room, but when it comes to a
multi phase spectrum something a rather. I'm lost. Oh look chief the engineering
team."

Hanson pointed and waved. The crew in the opposite room looked strangley at him
and waved back. Only doing so not cause they wanted to but because their CEO was
doing it.

Hanson had another great idea he pressed his helmet up to the forcefield
pressing his lips to the front glass and blowing his cheeks out.

He heard that same high pitched laugh from behind him and the pahkwa-thanh was
doubled over laughing.

While the crew in the power station were tuning around, and pretending their CEO
wasn't embarassing them this much.

"no sense of humor at all" Ari said as he attempted to wipe a tear away
realizing he couldn't with his enviromental suit on.

"well atleast you've got one. So when I first arrived I never got a chance to
meet you, I hear you need to take 4 days off a month. To well I'm not sure what.
" hanson said in curiously.

"Oh yes my warming cycle. You see our planet is rather warm, and our sun cycle
is 18 hours. So Instead of making you all suffer , Ineed to warm myself up and
raise my blood temprature, to keep myself mobile.

So I spend a few day in the holosuite laying on a rock under .... Well a heat
lamp basicly, disguised as a sun. "

"huh so kinda like a , well I know cardassians do similar thing, as well did
lizards and dinosaurs on earth. I had an iguana named scooter when I was a boy,
did the same thing."

"yes the same principal where not like your "scooter" we're able to regulate
ourselves for several weeks"

"that's kinda awesome. Anything else we need to know. "

"you haven't seen me in the mess hall have you?"

"no,not yet why?" hanson said as he smirked

"I'm strictly carnivourous, and not the let's have a rare steak type. The still
furry, bone in middle dripping blood kind. "

"wow remind me to make dinner reservations some time"

Ari laughed again.

"I hear your having troubles adjusting to the interfaces?"

"to be honest yes, just a little. I'm very hands on, but I have difficulty with
the typing and the pressing. Big fingers long nails you know? " Ari showed
hanson his hands

"we may be able to fix that soon. After the mission I'm going to propose to the
captain that we install the ship wide holo interface I designed.

I've been testing it in my office. Basicly since I discovered our ship wide
holosystems.

I figured why not have systems in vital areas we can interface with. It scans
you, determins who you are and basicly pops up around you, In your language and
in a customizable interface.

  Allowing you to do whatever tasks need done. Wether it be daily chores, or work
reports. But right now it's only in my office. So well see what she says."

Ari just stared at hanson and blinked.

"I think I love you, do you have a mate. "

Hanson just stared for a second untill Ari started luaghing harder then ever.

========== ========== =========

Ensign Hanson Savard
CEO USS Pegasus
Played by: The one, the only Ryan


Sent from my iPod excuse the writing mistakes.

-----------------------------------
MD: 03
Time: 1030
Scene: Main Engineering
-----------------------------------

Lihana had just signed off on the paper work that
certified the Starbase 112 crew to do their work and install the dish.  After
all everything was satisfactory to
her.  She personally had inspected the
parts herself, and they were to code.  In
the days leading up to their arrival at the Starbase, she had already assigned
the essential Wolverine staff to oversee the installation and to assist with
installation.

She had assigned an investigation team in order to figure
out what was going on with the power regulator in Engineering.  Over the last
couple of days, they still
weren’t able to figure out why the damned thing wouldn’t start working
properly.  Everything stated that it was within
specification but it wouldn’t power on and if it did it would sputter and die.

She absent-mindedly rubbed the base of her neck.  It had started just earlier
this
morning.  It felt like a headache was
trying to brew.  She stretched her neck
out a couple of times.  It seemed like it
kind of worked, but then it didn’t and it came back again only minutes
later.  As the ache crawled up into the
base of her skull it worked its way down her spine.  She sat down in her chair
in her office and
tried to stretch it out.

“Must have slept wrong last night,” she muttered to
herself.  It didn’t help.  It just ached and sometimes throbbed.

Finally after a couple of hours she was no longer able to
maintain her control over her ache and decided to get herself some medication
from sickbay to alleviate the slight aches and throbs and just call it a day.

After stopping in sickbay and heading to her quarters,
she noticed that Xavier wasn’t there.  She took the medication that they had
given her and took her uniform off
and slipped back into bed.  Her final
drifting thoughts before she passed out were that there were some odd behaviors
from people around her today. Normally she would have given a report, but it
was almost 1100 and she decided it was necessary to sleep.

----------------------------
Lt. Commander Alexandra Lihana Barrett
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Wolverine
Player: Therese




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

------------------------------------------
MD: 01
Time:  1139
Scene: Engineering Conf. Rm.
------------------------------------------

The small conference room was on deck sixteen right off of main engineering.  It
was geared for technical meetings with computer displays and monitors that
allowed the department to keep an eye on things even while they were having
discussions such as these.  Qeynan watched as the last of his ranking engineers
filed into the room and took a seat around the table.  When the doors closed,
the Chief Engineer stood up and without wasting time began the meeting.

With a touch of a button, Qeynan brought up an image of the USS Curie.  "This,
ladies and gentlemen, is our up and coming mission.  She's an Olympic class and
apparently stalled between sector A-double zero-two and double zero-three.  
There's a pulsar in the vicinity, though it's not thought to be the immediate
cause of the Curie's stall.   Obviously the ship has her own engineering team,
so whatever has stalled her... I can't imagine it would be something typical. 
Regardless, I'd like each of you to submit to me any and every idea you can come
up with that relates to this problem – plausible theories if you will.  Call it
a brainstorming challenge."

Qeynan looked up from the screen to watch the various heads nodding over their
own individual displays.  "Include in that any form of cargo that could possibly
affect the engines and thus create a stall.  If it is something on board causing
the problems that would explain why they haven't figured it out yet." Maybe.

"On another note we need to prep cargo bay two and three and check on the two
mobile hospitals we have on the primary flight deck just in case we have to
provide evacuation for the Curie and any patients she might presently be
carrying.  Along with that the captain has asked that we prep a safe containment
area for any biological specimens that we may have to take on board."

The Chief Engineer's eyes shifted about the table.  "Lenska, I'm putting you in
charge of containment.  Barbosa, check and prep the mobile hospital units. 
Sh'vath, get our cargo bays ready...

From that point the meeting drifted to updates on the Southern Cross and her
various systems, current diagnostics, and issues regarding maintenance.  Qeynan
made several notes on the padd beside him and when all minds were cleared and
reports given, he dismissed the group to proceed on their assigned tasks.

He was vaguely aware of the bodies passing by him on their way out the door as
he continued to make notes with his right hand while repeatedly flexing his
left.  In the silence a hand dropped on his shoulder to give it a squeeze,
startling him.

Katya laughed.  "I thought for sure you knew I was standing right here."

"Zoned, I guess..."  Qeynan gave her a sheepish smile as he pushed back on the
chair and stood up.

"What's with the hand?"

"Hmmmm?"

Lenska tapped his left hand.   "`fess up.  What'd you do?"

"Parisi squares with a man nearly half my age."  Qeynan said with a slight
smirk.  "It was a pretty good work out, though."  He motioned to the door and
the pair of them headed out into main engineering.
"It's nothing serious, so don't worry.  If it's still bothering me by the end of
shift then I'll check in to medical.  In the meantime we've got a lot to do."

Lenska eyed him dubiously and then shrugged.  "So, what are we trying to
contain?"

"That's just it.  We're not entirely sure yet, so we'll have to be prepared for
just about anything..."


~*~

Ensign Qeynan Sehvi
CEO - USS Southern Cross
Written by:  Cyd

MD: 03
Time: 0735
Scene: North 037.1603, East 10.3711; Training Area

	 The shuttle ride was like most every other shuttle ride Sam had experienced;
smooth, boring, and thankfully short. The world they had set down on was a
verdant world, probably slated for colonization; but due to it's reletive
distance it has remained lush and untouched.

      Haines took in his surroundings and sought to familiarize himself with this
strange world. Though it was not inhabited, there were dangers still to be held
outside the landing zone. He remained weary. As he did this, he gave only half
an ear to one of his crewmates give a lecture on how to find food and water.
Haines smirked at this, 'Time's wasting;the human body can do without food for
up to two weeks and still remain functional; as for water, just boil a cup full
a day and you could last a week; this mission is only supposed to be three to
four days, a week at tops; we should be on the move already; something doesn't
add up.'

[Snip]
"Why would only some of us be here on this training mission, and definately
'why' isn't the Chief of Security and Chief Medical Officer not here with us?"
he questioned himself out loud.

[End Snip]

	 That bit of monologue from Ens. Nestor grabbed Haines attention like a school
marm grabbing a delinquent boy by the ear. 'He's right; save for the XO, we
-are- missing the upper brass. Something is afoot here. I didn't like the look
of the captain at the briefing; she's up to something, and on thinking about it,
the XO has been somewhat tacturn as well; yes, something is definately up; part
of the training? or is there something more important going on? Are we being
evaluated by AZFLT? do they have observers in some cloaked bunker? is that why,
against all reason, we do not have tricorders?'

     Haines grew aggitated at these thoughts; but soon realized that they, in and
of themselves, meant nothing; he would just have to play along despite his
misgivings. So he focused on the mission at hand. He and two others were to find
a water source; probably a stream or artesian well. He did not know as much
about geology as he would have liked in this situation, but after growing up on
a farming commune near Vladivostok. There were always ways of collecting water;
digging wells, collecting rain, or drawing from a local stream. On the go, like
they were, collecting from a stream seemed to be the most economical.

      Sam drew his two commrades aside and detailed their plan of attack. "Ok,
Jiminez, Hammerstien, this stake," at this, Sam took out his shovel and stabbed
the ground with it, "is our point of referance. Jiminez, you take your hatchet
and go left; mark every tree you cross in search of water; head that way for
thirty minutes or until you find a source. Same goes for you Hammerstien except
you go right; I'll be going up the mountain slope. Remember, only stay out for
thirty minutes. If you should happen to get lost, don't be afraid to use your
comm badge to phone home; or if you're feeling brave - or stupid - make your way
towards the summit and our ultimate objective. I would advise against this
though; the wilderness is not a nice place. I only bring this up as it would be
what I'd do if I got lost and couldn't find my way back to the group. Oh, if you
think marking trees will be to much of a hassle or whatever, you can use rocks
to make an arrow on the ground; but this only works if you do it on your way
before you get lost and may be too time consuming; whatever you are comfortable
with. Oh, and while you're out there, try and bring back some tender, firewood.
I didn't hear anything about that in the rundown of assignments and I'm willing
to bet it's going to get cold rather quickly. Ok, off you go, and don't get
lost."

"Aye sir"

"Yessir"

	 Sam watched as the two headed into the wood, slashing at seemingly random trees
as they went. Soon, Sam could follow their path by eye alone. 'Good, they
shouldn't get too turned around.' He then took off his pack and laid it on the
ground. Unencumbered, Sam then divested himself of his uniform tunic. He would
use it for warmth when he slept and didn't want it dirty or wet when night fell;
staying warm was third in line behind food and water. Bare chested, hatchet in
hand, he went about the task of seeking the one thing that would define their
survival: water.

---
Time:0750
Scene: Deep Woods

	 As Sam forged his way through the virgin wood, he thought. His thoughts kept
wandering back to one of two things: Athnie Reins and their last time together,
or the derth of information in the mission briefing. "Why did we crash land?"
"That's not important"; "Is there anything more we can salvage from shuttle
craft?" "No"; "Why aren't we allowed to have tricorders?" "They were all broken"
"All of them?" "Yes" "Really? All of them?" "Yes, all of them were broken;
anymore non-tricorder related questions?"

	 He shook his head, and trekked on. He had been following a game trail of hard
packed earth; there were tracks, but given the condition of the earth, they were
hard to discern. He had been following something hooved on the premise that it
might lead him to a watering hole.

	 He was soon rewarded for his efforts; and as luck would have it, he found
dinner as well. The hooved animal was still there, tentitively sipping. It was
about the size and shape of a Terran wild boar except that it had horns 'Or is
it antlers?' like a moose, though they were swept forward, positioned above the
animals head and stout neck. 'Amazing; this is truly a forest animal then, if it
evolved in a way as to block its own vision skyward; it has nothing to fear from
high flying birds of prey, and those horns would be especially vicious to
anything groundside - like me,' he thought to himself, amazed that he hadn't
scared the animal off and chagrinned that he had already decided to make it
dinner. He knew that the mission was only supposed to last three days; but
missions change, 'and besides, if I were truly crash landed, I wouldn't know
that; I would have to make our food supplies last as long as I could and this
beast will feed the twelve of us for at least two days if we smoke the
leftovers. Mustn't get blood in the water though; it could taint the supply.'

      Haines moved like smoke at night; quiet as he could be; but not quiet
enough. The beast, which stood at almost one meter at the shoulder, turned and
faced him. It gave no signs of being frightened; no indication of hostility;
merely weary curiosity. Sam realized that as an alien himself, the animal had
never learned to fear his kind; nor was it of skittish disposition.

	 Sam did not make eye contact; but instead moved with deliberate caution towards
the watering hole; a pond of crystal clear water. It looked like it was fed from
some underground source, ensuring that the water was fresh. When he reached the
water's edge, he went to a knee, laid his hatchet down, cupped his hands, and
drank. He waited until the animal became comfortable and resumed its thirst
quenching. Slowly, ever so slowly, Sam took his hatchet in hand, and raised it.
He took aim at a spot just above the pelvis, judging that the neck was too well
armored by bone and muscle to ensure a quick kill; and yet, he didn't feel like
striking at the animal only to wound it - superficially or mortally - and have
to chase it all over creation. He would try and strike the spinal cord,
disabling the rear legs; hoping it had a nervous system akin to the terrestrial
animals he was used to.

      The blow came down like the sword of damocles, dooming the poor beast to
either a slow, lingering death or as a prelude to a swift and hungry one. Haines
voted for the latter. The beast, however, was far more optimistic then that. It
swung its head around, antlers connecting with the hatchet, sending it on a
short flight to the ground, maybe a meter and a half away. Sam rolled after it,
thinking that since he did not enjoy killing an alien deer with his bear hands,
he wouldn't enjoy killing an alien pig that way, either.  That move saved his
life. The boar had quickly followed up the swipe with another of the like,
intending to gore the poor CEO. Upon realizing it had just achieved strike two,
it made as if to give chase, but Sam's aim had been true: the beast was hobbled.
To this, the animal let out a howl filled with disbelief, disregard, and
disrespect. That last, Sam was absolutely sure of; he was eminantly thankful
that the universal translator did not pick up on that.

      Haines laid hands on the fallen hatchet and brought it up in an upward
swing, splitting the animal's neck length wise. Blood, bright red and copious,
came out and greeted the open air and was well recieved by the thirsty ground.
With this blow, the beast seemed to accept it's fate, laying down as if for a
nap. It gave out one last sigh, and then was forever quiet.

      Sam wiped the sweat from his brow and made to wash the blood off of him;
then realized the futility of such a gesture. He would be carrying the carcass
back to the camp site, and it would be bleeding on him the whole way. He sighed,
shouldered his kill, and headed back.

Ens. Haines, Samaul
CEO - USS Cherokee
Player - Mike

MD: 01
Time: 1146
Scene: Sickbay

------------------

Eli had summoned Commander Denzer to Sickbay to give him an update on what
medical had discovered while the briefing had occurred. Score one for his
competent and well trained staff, because they were competent and well trained,
and so was he. Starfleet may be a military organization, as previous Captains
and Commanders had reminded him, but Doctors were not in the least military,
they were healers. Anyway, it seemed he had an old...well friend wasn't the
word, his old XO from the Andalusia-the one who had slept with his wife, was
apparently the Curie's CO. He had sent a note to Eli explaining that the targ
specimens on board, the ones they had been researching along with another top
secret project, were unharmed.

Eli would, of course, tell Denzer about his history with Captain Troy
Arrowsmith, and then point out that sleeping with a man's wife, while both of
them are your subordinates was more unprofessional than two consenting adults
who were unmarried having a relationship. He looked up from the PADD as the
doors to the office opened. "Commander." he said rising and saluting crisply.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Denzer raised an eyebrow and shot a sharp look at the doctor. He better had a
good reason to call him down here, or else. "What is it, doctor?"

Eli handed him the PADD. "I have a contact on the Curie, my former Executive
officer on my last posting. He was....acquainted very well with my first
wife...he sent me a partial list of what they are researching and their
specimens. I took the liberty of also using my contacts at star fleet medical to
find out about the top secret project. Apparently, the ship belongs to Section
31, which of course doesn't exist."

A brief glance over the list made his other eye brow rise as well. "Targs", he
muttered in disbelieve. Who would be interested in those disgusting creatures.
They had been thoroughly 'researched' for millennia. The rest was only a
collection of hints and speculations. Top secret, section 31, hysterical
conspiracy jibber jabber and utterly useless to formulate a strategy upon. They
needed concrete facts, not speculations.

The good part was, they had a direct line of contact to the ship, and however
convoluted the messages would get by bed side stories, gaining intelligence was
paramount.And in that context the timing or the message was curious.

"When did you receive this?" he shot back at the man.

"During the briefing. Millicent organizes all the messages for me in order of
priority. As she sent Ensign Cantwell a reminder to get his physical, this came
in. As soon as I saw it and heard back from Starfleet Medical. I called you
Sir."

"Did you know Captain Arrowsmith was on board the Curie?" Another warning shot
at the doctor. The answer had better be right.

"Sir, I haven't heard from Captain Arrowsmith since the day my first wife told
me that they were having an affair. Rather unprofessional and incompetent, for
an XO to sleep with a subordinate, especially one who is married to another
subordinate." Catching the man's look Eli said, "But you didn't ask me Sir."

This man was suffering from some serious delusion. Complaining that a superior
was sleeping with a subordinate was laughable at best, considering that it came
from someone who had just committed the same act of 'incompetence'. For what
reason the doctor was divulging this useless piece of information was a puzzle
even to Vulcans but also a testament to the state of his mind.

"A simple yes or no will suffice, doctor." The situation was going to be
volatile. Targs, a 'secret' research project - how secret remained to be seen -
and on top a disgruntled doctor and the former lover of his former wife.
Whatever hopes he had that this was mission was going to be standard after all,
just went up in smoke.

"So Captain Arrowsmith hasn't talked to you for over 6 years and now all in a
sudden he sends a message containing information about our mission." His stare
became even stronger "To you!" A small pause. "What is it that you are not
telling me, doctor?"

"Absolutely nothing Commander. Betazoids are incapable of lying. Sometimes , in
fact, we have been known to tell more information than necessary. I know what
you know." Eli could sense that the Commander didn't trust him. "Trust is a
precious thing Commander."

'What the hell do you know about trust, doctor.', Denzer thought. He shook his
head. There was no time for petty mind games. There was something very fishy
about his. Content, timing, recipient. If Arrowsmith knew, the Cross was coming,
why would he talk to the doctor instead of the captain? It didn't make sense and
he was in dire need or more information.

"Very well, doctor. I want you to send the message to security for analysis. And
in the meantime, if you remember anything else, any detail about this chap,
report it." He already shuddered at the thought of the tsunami of words he had
just unleashed. He would make Kagawa handle the first brunt of the storm.

"Anything else?"

"No Commander." Eli replied as he sent the message to security for analysis.
"Again, thank you for coming." He smiled at the man and hoped he hadn't screwed
up. Knowing Eli, he probably had.

Denzer nodded and left the room. He was too busy to smile, but even if he had
all the time in the world, he wouldn't smile at this man.

Eli smiled. What had he done know, maybe he should speak to Ophelia about his
people skills...

------------------

Lt. jg Eli Morningstar, CMO
USS Southern Cross
played by Jeff

and

Cmdr. Sean Denzer, XO
USS Southern Cross
played by Gerhard

======================
MD: 18
Time:   1030
Scene: Observation Post;
           Science Lab
======================

[Science Lab]

Since getting back to work in the lab, Rhea had lost track of time as she
reviewed the vast amount of data which had been collected by the scientists
during their tenure here on Capernia.  In an attempt to help conceal the fact
that she was closely going through Dr. Benning's research with a fine-toothed
comb as the old saying went, she was also spending time reviewing and studying
the data collected by other researchers on the station and making certain that
she at the very least gave the outward appearance of going through their
findings and conclusions as thoroughly as she was with Benning's files.

Currently she was finishing up with a review on a series of botanical reports
detailing the reproductive cycle of an odd plant native to Capernia which could
only germinate its seed pods once every 11 years during a two-day window when
was in bloom.  The plant only bloomed once in each 11 year time period, with a
range of 5 to 20 blooms depending on the health, age, and size of the parent. 
The information in the report was actually quite intriguing and Rhea couldn't
help it..she found herself trying to think of an excuse to get out there and see
this unusual plant for herself...

Based on the description, the plant - which was called a generation flower -  be
carnivorous, in that it's thick leaves formed an oval shaped 'trap' which was
triggered by the touch of an insect on the sensitive internal hairs which lined
the inner surface of the leaves, triggering the release of a thick, viscous acid
which trapped the hapless bug and slowly broke its body down into a slick gel
which then with gravity's aid slowly moved down the leaf surface towards the
root ball of the massive plant where it was used as nutrition for the plant. 
However, it's reproductive process was decidedly unusual to say the least.  In
order for the generation flower to form its seed pod and reproduce, it must form
a truly large blood red and green flower which could grow up to almost 8 feet in
diameter with thick, spongelike leaves and a smell that was described as being
reminiscent of a rotting beast left to simmer in the summer sun.

This strong odor could be carried for miles around, attracting the attention of
a species of large carrion eating beetle which responded to the scent, homing in
on the smell of 'dinner'.  The beetles would eat the outer layer of the inner
bloom, and then move on to the next bloom in the process, moving pollen from one
bloom to another and accomplishing germination to facilitate the growth of the
seed pods which would develop, and then in turn be eaten by local birds and
spread through the forests via bird migration patterns to begin a whole new
generation of the generation flower.

Thus far, the researchers had only witnessed the end of a cycle - the plant had
already bloomed and was in the final stages of being germinated by the beetles
when it was discovered.  Notations at the end of the file speculated that
several other plants found in the same vicinity might bloom within the next few
weeks and were being closely monitored to observe the entire process in detail. 
She couldn't quite help but hope maybe one of them would bloom while the ship
was there, and that she'd be able to get a first hand look at this unusual plant
/ insect relationship for herself.


[Dr. Benning's private office]

Staring at the computer screen, Benning felt his entire body go from ice cold,
to searing hot in a matter of seconds.  It couldn't be.. but at the same time
the computer data wouldn't lie!  Someone had accessed his private, hidden
database.  The time stamp on one of the entries was incorrect, showing a last
edited time of two days ago when.. he hadn't accessed that particular file in
over two weeks.  So tiny a thing.. he'd checked the data and everything was as
it should be except for that one, small little notation on the end of the file
which said that it had been edited two days ago.  It was odd, the file was
exactly as the backup.. there was no change in data but..

All at once he had it.  "That Starfleet bitch!" he snarled aloud.  "I'll kill
her.. I'll kill her before I'll let Starfleet interfere here!  Damn them!"

Rising to his feet so fast that he knocked the chair to the floor, Benning
jerked open his desk drawer and pulled out its contents to allow him access to a
hidden compartment at the bottom. Inside, was a phaser..  pulling it out he
paused as he realized he couldn't use the phaser, couldn't do this in the heat
of anger.  He had to stop her from digging deeper..  had to stop her before she
found the real data, before she ruined everything by discovering his true
research records which.. thankfully she had not yet accessed.   Too smart for
her own good..

How to stop her..  if he killed her then he'd have that entire ship down his
head..  an accident!  Something that would put her out of commission and keep
her out of the way ..


[Science Lab]

Entering the lab quietly, Benning felt a rush of adrenaline surge through his
blood.  The only other person currently present working was Ensign Kennit, who
appeared to be engrossed in one of the botanical files discussing that
foul-smelling generation flower plant.  The damn thing had stunk up the lab for
days even after its withered up bloom had been removed.  Even withered and dead,
the thing had stunk like rotting meat..    Complete waste of resources to study
something so trivial..

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a hypospray which contained a special
concoction of his own design.  The potent chemical cocktail inside would not
kill the nosy Starfleet officer, but it would make her quite disoriented almost
at once, allowing him to set up an 'accident' which would put her out of the
way.   The best part of his home-brewed mixture was that it would leave no trace
in her blood stream, as it was made up of completely endrogenous
neurotransmitter chemicals which were found naturally within the brain and, at
the dosage he planned to administer.. her memory would be quite nicely blanked
out, at best a haze of images which would make little to no sense to anyone.

Quietly walking up behind her, Benning injected the mixture into Ens. Kennit's
neck before she had time to do more than realize that he was there before the
drug was already racing through her blood stream!

Kennit came up out of the chair with lightning speed, but her balance was
already impacted by the rush of chemicals now hitting her brain.  Her vision was
swimming, the room spinning unevenly around her as she staggered back from
Benning fumbling for the phaser at her belt.  Her coordination was completely
off, she couldn't seem to pull the weapon and as Benning came at her she lunged
for him defensively in an attempt to hit him.  Benning side stepped her attack
easily in spite of his age and lack of general physical condition and watched as
she fell, striking her head hard against the edge of the desk and collapsing to
the floor where she lay motionless, blood pooling from the gash across the back
of her head from hitting the desk.

After checking her pulse and respiration to insure that the Starfleet woman
wouldn't die, just.. have a rough time for a while  ..  once he was certain that
she was in no immediate medical danger he staged the area in the lab to make it
appear as if one of the laboratory chemical analysis units had malfunctioned,
setting off a minor explosion which had caused her to fall, striking her head
and leaving her unconscious.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Benning remained in the lab long enough to erase
the security recordings so that there was no record of his having entered the
lab at all..  and then slipped out and away going back to his office, a smile on
his face.

TBC


======================
Ensign Rhea Kennit
CSciO
written by:  Cyndi
======================

======================
MD: 18
Time: 0945
Scene: Observation Post;
           Private quarters
======================


James sat up from bed.  He had had a restless night.  Rubbing his temples, he
swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, groaning and moving toward
the bathroom to shower and prepare for his first day as command of the Base.

Stepping out of the bathroom having showered and dressed before him, Rhea said
"Good morning.." as she saw him up and about.

James smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her in for a kiss.
"morning gorgeous.."  he smiled.  He still bore the bite marks on his lips and
neck, along with a couple bruises on his face.  "I got a lot to do today.."

"Don't we all.." she told him, returning the kiss.

He placed his fingertips against her face as he smiled.."What do you have to
do?" he asked as he licked his lips...

"Me?" she asked. "Oh I've got a bunch of botanical reports I need to finish
reviewing, then I've got some more of Dr. Benning's research which I want to go
through and review..  the usual.  Dull, science stuff.."

"After you're done..." he said.."Will you help me today?"  He didn't want to let
her go.  "It's my first day to command this station.."  He said with a little
apprehension..

"Help you?"  She echoed.  "How so?"

"Just.." he paused.."Just be by my side...that helps me alot.."

She gave him a little nod and a smile, "I can do that.."

He smiled as he winked at her.."Thanks hun.."  He kissed her again before he
squeezed her.."Thanks baby.." he moved past her to get into the shower,
stripping out of his clothes..

Her head snapped up at that, "Baby?  What's this about a baby?  Don't even look
at me like that!" she told him.

He quirked a brow.."excuse me?"

"That's what I want to know!" she replied.

"What are you talking about?"  he asked as he was truely confused

"I'm asking you!" she told him.  "You're the one talking about baby's and what
not.."

"I called you baby..."  he said..."Is that a bad thing?"

She blinked.  "Oh.   I thought you said.. "  shaking her head she then said,
"Never mind..."

He quirked a brow..."No...no that comes after I marry you...." He gave her a big
smile.

She cocked her head at him again, "huh.."

He took a deep breath.  He opened his mouth before he stopped.."never mind.." 
He said with a chuckle and a shake of his head and entered the shower..The water
was turned on as he stood back to let the water warm up.

She remained sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing after him for a long moment
before shaking her head once more and turning her attention to checking the
computer for any messages that might have come through during the night.

It didn't take long for James to finish his shower.  He dried off as he stepped
out of the bathroom, tying the towel around his waist as he walked back into the
living area they had been given.  Moving toward his bag, he looked to his red
shirt and laid it out.

When he dropped the towel to dress, she glanced up then commented, "I guess it
is cold in here, not just me.."

James gave her a sarcastic face as he began to dress.  "People wonder why people
got issues about how they look.."

She just snickered at him, blew him a kiss then said, "So you gonna use that
dermal regenerator in the kit to do something about that face or do you like
looking like a targ chewed on you for a while before spitting you out?"

James shook his head.  "I don't care that I have these...I'm good with it.."  he
said without missing a beat.  He walked over to his table and picked up his
tablet.  Looking at it..he nodded.."Good...New Engineer worked on the climate
control.."

"Ah..that is good news," Rhea answered.  "Does it say that he fixed the climate
control, or just worked on it?"

"Apparently..."  He frowned.."It's working.....enough..Klingon Rigged.." he
said.  "Though it does work better."  He said as he slipped his boots on. 
Putting his Com pin on his shirt, he didn't bother on putting his work coat on. 
"What are you working on right now?" he asked.

"Just going through some botanical research files, plants, flowers, mold.. I'd
like to get another look at Dr. Benning's research but I don't want to spend all
my time on his files so I'm trying to spread out my review to cover all the
bases.." she told him.

"I need to go for a walk around the base to see if personnel is up to par.  I'm
not going to be made a fool of while the Captain left me in charge..."  he
paused as he stood, keeping his tablet next to him.."even if my command is short
lived."

"Have fun with that," she commented.  "Heads up..  lab A4.. the guys in there.. 
I'd be surprised if they've changed the oil in their hair in the last six months
and one of them apparently lives off bean casserole.  So.. just be forewarned if
you go in there.  They apparently don't get a lot of visitors either and will do
their best to trap you and keep you.. and name you George..  to love you and pet
you and squeeze you.."  she said, mimicking a very old 2D video that they'd
watched together once back at the Academy.

"Nothing doing on that.."  James said as he looked to her with a smirk.  "Do me
a favor hun...take your phaser with you while you're out roaming about..."  He
paused.."And don't...be afraid to use it.." he said.."I mean..kill the first
bastard that tries to snatch you..."  He shook his head and smirked.."My
command..my rules.."

"Oh goodie..  I get to carry a gun and strut around scaring the dweebs.." Rhea
said playfully.

"I'm serious...don't get yourself all beat up or taken.."  He reached over,
taking his type 1 phaser and tucking it into his waist band of his pants.  "You
gonna hang here or you gonna walk with me?"

"Yes Dear.." Rhea told him as she secured her own weapon to her belt.  Rising,
she said "I'll walk with you so far as to where our path's must part, but once I
get done with this botanical file if you'd like I can probably join you for that
walk around the base if you'd like.."

He nodded as he tapped his Com Badge.  "Yo, Yavan, Antares here....if you could,
meet me in the commissary.."  He said before he looked back to Rhea and reached
forward, giving her a kiss.  "Come on..let's go do our thing..time to make the
upper brass look good.."

"If you say so.." she replied with a quick return kiss.

============================

Ensign Rhea Kennit
CSciO
written by:  Cyndi


Ensign James Antares
CFCO USS Endurance
Played by Jai

============================

MD: 14
Time: 0840
Scene: Skolari Observatory
---------------------
Standing a little off to the side but directly in front of Dr. Bell's
newly emerged form, Sunan had a full view of her and he found that he
had a fairly clinical, detached reaction to her nudity and did not avert
his gaze or even move out of the way.  Instead, he felt like he needed
to take in every aspect of Dr. Bell's appearance as Professor
Stanton-Lacy moved to cover her up.  The whole thing was so puzzling and
it begged so many questions that he felt determined to grab as many
answers as he could with his own skills of observation.  But very little
information seemed forthcoming.

"Dr. Bell?"  Sunan said tentatively but firmly, standing in place - not
wanting to alarm the woman, though he was unclear of the exact nature of
her presence in the room.

Jenna's robed, ethereal form turned to face Sunan fully and her dark
brown eyes may have been just as hazy as the rest of her but they seemed
to pierce right through whatever cloaking technology shielded the rest
of her from them.  She narrowed her eyes at Sunan and the rest of the
away team before raising her forehead in surprise.  "You came."  She
said simply.  Her voice was deeper, richer, than Sunan had expected from
the audio recordings.  There was always some discrepancy but this seemed
to be something else.  A distortion of some sort.  Or maybe something
else.

Sunan flicked a quick glance at Commander Aldrin then back over to
Professor Stanton-Lacy who seemed unaccountably calm.

"Yes.  We're from the USS Pegasus.  I'm Dr. Sunan Finn... this is
Lieutenant Commander David Aldrin, First Officer and Ensign Tavas Detel,
our Chief Science Officer."  Sunan flinched inwardly at the violation of
protocol but for the purposes of not setting of any more alarm bells
with Professor Stanton-Lacy, he felt it would be best to conveniently
avoid mentioning that he was the ship's counselor for now.  Had Sunan
not been, in fact, also a trained neurosurgeon, the omission would be
harder to pull off but in his case let them know only that he was one of
the ship's doctors... which was marginally true.  He hoped Dr. Preia did
not get wind of this little lie and chew him out for it.  Some CMOs were
notorious for wanting a "Shrink-free Sickbay".  He'd yet to touch base
with her to see where she stood on the subject.

"We got your distress call."  He didn't specify which one.  "Obviously
the station suffered some pretty severe damage.  We're interested in
hearing about the attack.  We are also interested in hearing about you."
   There... open-ended comment.  Nonjudgmental.  Non confrontational.

And Professor Stanton-Lacy stood with one hand outstretched pressed
against the small of Dr. Bell's back and the other lightly hovering over
over section of the console.  A trace of a smile danced across his face
but he said nothing.  Red and orange lights played off of each other
along the console underneath his fingertips.

Jenna stepped forward slowly, her expression unchanging.  "The stars
attacked the station, Doctor.  And I'm fine.  We're entering Phase
Three.  Phase Two had no complications.  Phase One ... was ..."  She
looked over at the professor and blinked slowly.  "... as expected.
There isn't more to report at this time."

Lt. Commander Sunan J. Finn
CNS
USS Pegasus - Azeri Fleet
Played by Naya

======================
MD:   18
Time:  0930
Scene:  Forests of Capernia, Outside Trenio
======================

The Guardians were surprisingly good.  Ashcroft realized intellectually that
it was either ethno- or techno-centrism - probably a terrible combination of
both - to assume that simply because she'd grown up in a warp-capability
society, because she had been educated and trained in and throughout the
same, that she was somehow inherently and magically better at all the skills
societies developed in the thousands of years leading up to warp
capability.  She wasn't quite sure where she'd gotten the idea that she was
better at small-ground ground tactics than the Guardians but she learned
quite quickly that she needed to divest herself of the obviously fallacious
belief.  She had forgotten more about physics in the last six months than
the entire Capernian scientific community could come up with for a summit.
She could talk about A'krin Dah and I'tsuri Lun's never-ending chase in
terms of celestial mechanics or lunar orbit theories or even their relative
velocities using the standard gravitational parameter, the radial distance
of the orbiting bodies from the central body, and the length of the
semi-major axis.  She was a master of covert operations,
competent-to-advanced in myriad close-quarters combat tactics and weapons
mastery, and a graduate of one of the most demanding and selective
intelligence agencies in the galaxy.

And for all her society's advancements, for all her own personal training,
what had originally been patient, maybe even patronizing, indulgence on her
part as she followed the Guardians on their trek had rather quickly morphed
into first grudging admiration and then into open respect.  Somehow, after
traipsing silently through the forest with them, sleeping underneath the
trees, and seeing first-hand Anih-Dah's near Napoleonic mastery of
strategy... shuttle drop points, internal sensors, phasers, even simple
light-absorbent and heat-concealing fabrics seemed kind of like cheating.

Anih-Dah held a hand up in a now-familiar gesture indicating that the
Guardians following her should immediately cease movement.  Ashcroft, as did
the other Guardians in her team, immediately froze, holding her weight low
to the ground, a hand ready at the hilt of one of her elkis.

Beds, though, she thought as she waited for Anih-Dah's signal to move
forward towards the Peri'gln stronghold.  Beds.  Beds were not cheating.
She really could have done without the whole sleeping-under-the-trees thing.


======================
Time:  0300

*~*~*~*~*

Melanie roughly dunked the latest bowl into the soapy water, the force of
the movement splashing warm water over the front of her uniform and onto the
floor of the crew lounge as well as producing several very large soap
bubbles which rose lightly above her basin of suds.  She smiled at them,
admiring her iridescent reflections in their delicate, oscillating
surfaces.  Bubbles!  She poked one with a soapy finger, just strongly enough
to prod it onto a new trajectory but gently enough to leave its pretty skin
intact.  She beamed at the bubble and its sisters for a moment, pleased,
before realizing that she was supposed to be finishing the dishes from Gamma
shift's dinner.  The Captain would be displeased if she were slow, she knew
this, and she didn't want to disappoint him.  And she certainly didn't want
to break one of the dinner plates.  She would certainly lose her commission
for that and she really didn't want that either.  She felt a sinking feeling
in her stomach and she redoubled her efforts to finish the dishes properly.
She could do it.  She might still get court-martialed for plate destruction
but the survivor plates would be pristine!  The cleanest plates the Captain
had ever seen.  She took a quick glance at the two piles on either side of
her washing station - one third, stacked in neat piles to her right, and the
other two thirds in stark, dirty disarray to her left - then ducked her head
back down, tucking her hair behind her ears, singing along with the music
which had suddenly begun playing through a nearby shuttlecraft's speakers,
"Whooooooa, we're one-third there.  Whoooooooa, living on a prayer!"

There was a rush of water as James Antares came sliding through the room on
a slip and slide.  "OOOOHHHH YEAH!!!!" he yelled as he fell off the slide
and careened into a table, toppling it over.  Rolling on his back he laughed
and shook the water out of his hair.  "Hey woman.  What you doin'?"

"I'm doing the dishes," Melanie informed him, watching as several crew
members slid onto their knees when trying to cross the slick, yellow plastic
to place their plates of half-eaten waybread onto her stack of dirty
dishes.  "The Captain gave me demerits."

James stood up, shaking his hair out as he approached Melanie.  Dressed in a
pair of red board shorts and no shirt, he grabbed some dishes and shoved
them in the water, clearing out a space for himself as he hopped up and sat
on the counter facing her.  "What kind of demerits?"

Melanie pointed to the far wall of the lounge, saying dismissively, "See for
yourself."

Soluk sat behind a massive desk of dark, heavy wood, his fingers steepled
calmly in front of him as he looked down at them.  He reached down to
scratch Angela's bristly head for a moment, then said, "I will make this
mercifully brief, Lieutenant:  You allowed Dr. Ceryn to dictate your course
through the marketplace, exposing him to unnecessary danger, rather than
performing your sacred duty.  You solicited foreign governments for sealed
personal records regarding his past.  You fed your Talarian hook spider
peanut butter and your chief medical officer unclear water.  You received
and did not comprehend the signals sent you regarding your potential sexual
partner's unavailability.  You will receive ten lashes for that lapse and
you will give me the name of your sexual partner; he will receive five.
This suggests to me that Intelligence has trained you in combat and nothing
else."  Angela calmly webbed the Captain's gavel to the side of the desk,
accepting another pat on the head in return.

"See?  So now: dishes."  Melanie watched as Angela slid down the yellow
plastic on her back, all eight legs waving excitedly in the air as she did
so, then dunked another plate in the soapy water.

"So, you're good at dishes too," he said with a raised eyebrow and a typical
Antares smirk on his face.  He leaned in a bit closer and breathed in
deeply.  "Who cares about Raith.  He was really careless."

"I care!" Melanie protested, giving Angela a wide berth as she skittered
back up to the top of the slide, before returning to scrubbing the blood off
of her elkis.  "I was supposed to keep him safe.  And you should care too
because he's your best friend.  You smell like peaches.  I hate doing
dishes."  She flopped backwards onto the soft grass of the peach orchard,
securing the elkis at the waist of her uniform.  She folded her hands behind
her head, idly watching as Angela took another haphazard but rather
charmingly exuberant slide down the yellow plastic.

James shook his head.  "No no no..." he said as he slipped off the sink and
pushed it over to water the orchard grass.  "You see..."  He knelt down next
to her and reached out grasping her elkis and spun it in his hand.  "I
learned that putting too much stock in others only gets your hurt...
really... really hurt.."  He put the tip of the elkis at the belt of her
uniform and cut the belt rather simply.

She raised her head up to peer down the length of her uniform-clad body, her
abdominal muscles tightening under his blade as she did so.  "Phallic
imagery," Ashcroft muttered to herself.  "That can't be healthy."  To him,
Melanie announced aloud, "I am familiar with that phenomenon.  Others will
always fail you.  And that's worse than even dishes."  She reached down,
drew her fingertips over the back, dull edge of the elkis before pushing it
firmly away from her stomach.  "Well, maybe not dishes."

"Even worse than purple horses... No colored saddles will ever match," James
said as he propped himself up next to her.  His eyes were distant.  "Purple
bison I can handle... but not horses."  He narrowed his eyes.  "You know,
Crofty.  Did you ever wanna just sing and dance?"

"Absolutely not," Melanie said, admiring Angela's impossibly graceful swan
dive off the end off the plastic.  She turned to her side to frown at him,
finding him a little closer than he had been a moment before.  "Who would
ever want to saddle a bison?" she demanded.

"You would saddle bison if you rode an air bison," he said as he sat up and
pulled a Ukulele out of nowhere.

"Irrational," Ashcroft muttered to herself.  "That can't be healthy."

"Do you know 'Stairway to Heaven'?" Eshir-Shi inquired of the
ukelele-bearing pilot.

Melanie frowned.  "I didn't think proper Shimaun listened to things like
that," she said doubtfully.

"You are from a small town," Eshir-Shi reminded her gently.  "It is an
appropriate song for a Shimaun.  Your Shimaun would like it."

Hmm.  That seemed to make sense.  And Eshir-Shi was an elder, after all.
"Okay," she said agreeably.  She swung her legs around so she could rest her
head in Antares's lap, her head parallel to the body of the ukelele.  She
folded her hands over her stomach.  "I would like to hear Stairway to
Heaven," she informed him.  She wiggled to make herself comfortable... then
reached underneath her back to remove a particularly uncomfortable rock,
frowned at the rock, and tossed it dismissively away.  It landed on a small
grassy knoll that grunted in response.  Neat.  She settled back down, adding
with a contented sigh, "I think Raith would like that song.  Eshir thinks so
anyway."

Picking the Ukulele, James began to pick out the chords to the song. "You
have to sing though," he gave her the stipulation.

"Oh, I can't sing," Melanie said with a careless wave of her hand.  "Too
shy.  And too terrible at it."

"If you cannot sing, do not," Eshir-Shi said.  "The song must be perfect.
Your Shimaun is needed elsewhere than your small village.  You must send
Ryn-Shi off well.  That is your duty."

That also sounded reasonable.  Melanie didn't want to say goodbye but it
made sense that she should do so as well as she could.  "Then I won't sing,"
she told Antares.  "The song is for Raith.  We should make it perfect.  It's
our obligation: you're his best friend and I'm his Guardian.  He's a
Shimaun, you know.  He turned into one.  A real one.  Eshir says he needs a
stairway to heaven.  A perfect one."  She sighed, running an idle fingertip
over the blade of a katana and drawing the smooth red silk adorning its
scabbard through her other hand.  "I'll miss him," she added quietly,
suddenly sad.  "He's too good a Shimaun.  They need him."  She unsheathed
the katana quickly, without moving her head from Antares's lap and somehow
without slicing through the ukelele's delicate strings or neck, and pointed
the tip up at the sky.  "Right there.  That's where the stairway has to go.
Right between A'krin Dah and I'suri Lun."

James began to sing.  "How could I disappoint," he said as he began to play
quietly in that island rhythm.  His eyes cast skyward before he shrugged...
"If it's meant to be, it's meant to be... Follow me, down the aisle of
Grauman's Chinese Theater.... A colossal architectural sensation... In the
plush of your seat at the Grauman's Chinese Theater... Life can be as plush
as your imagination.."  He met her eyes...  "So, if pure entertainment's
your style... follow me I have two on the aisle..."

Melanie's brow furrowed.  "That's not Stairway to Heaven!" she protested.
She paused, adding doubtfully as uncertainty flashed across her face, "Maybe
it'll be okay.  It's our job to see him off properly, you know."  She let
the tip of the katana drop, falling to press gently against the side of his
neck.  The tanned skin there flexed, pliant, against the tip of the blade.
"We can't mess it up.  I've already messed it up enough.  The Captain will
have me making waybread for the next six months if I mess it up again."  She
applied a hint of warning pressure to the katana.

James stopped playing and set the ukulele to the ground.  He looked down at
her smirking, his goatee contrasting against his skin.  "You know you'll
never beat me with a sword."

Melanie knew no such thing but he looked rather sincere.  Maybe he was
telling the truth.  However:  "Irrelevant," she said.  She pressed more
firmly against the katana, the tip dangerously close to breaking the
sensitive skin beneath it.  She smiled brilliantly up at him.  "See?

James felt the pressure as he chuckled, lifting his hand to run his
fingertips across the skin of her arm.  "See... what?"

She frowned for a moment, convinced that the arm he was touching should hurt
for some reason... but it didn't and that was nice.  She frowned at him
instead.  "See the katana at your jugular, of course," she said reasonably.
"The point is that it's irrelevant if you can beat me with a sword or not
when I already have a blade at your throat."

He smirked as he wrapped his hands across her arm and pulled it away,
shifting his body suddenly, he flipped her over so that her blade was still
at his throat, but he was on top of her.

"Oh jeez," muttered Ashcroft.  "This can't be healthy."

The air had been knocked out of her at the sudden contact but she certainly
had enough left in her bloodstream to allow her to frown up him.  "You could
have hurt yourself doing that," Melanie told him, disgruntled.  "If the
Captain doesn't court martial me for the broken dishes, he might do it if
I'm holding the sword you decapitated yourself with.  That was dangerous."

Speaking of dangerous.  She noticed how close he was - she could feel his
warm breath puff against her face - but he could not move closer with the
blade at his throat.  "You smell like peaches," she said.  Carefully, quite
carefully, she leaned up, making sure to do so without moving the blade
between them at all lest it accidentally pierce his skin.  Her abdominal
muscles tightened under the weight of his body as she pulled her upper body
carefully, oh so carefully, upwards off of the grass.  She stopped when she
could feel the warmth of his breath on her ear at the faint coolness of the
back side of the katana blade hovering just past her own throat.  She
moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue then pressed them with equal
care and precision into the hollow of his throat for a moment.  She leaned
only slightly back, brow furrowed.  "You don't taste like peaches."

James stared down at her.  "Well duh, my neck doesn't taste like
peaches..."  He brought his hand to grip the katana, drawing a gentle line
of blood across his palm as he pulled it out of the way.  He stared at her
before he leaned down, pressing his ghost like lips down against hers...  He
felt cool suddenly, the warmth gone from his body.  His hair, a sandy brown,
turned dark as his face changed.

"Be careful, you'll cut yourse -" Melanie started to protest but found the
rest of her words trapped in the back of her throat as his lips settled down
over hers.  Her hand, supporting the weight of the katana just a moment
before, came to a gentle rest on the side of his face and her eyes
instinctively fluttered closed... but snapped open abruptly after a moment.
His lips suddenly lost their warmth and the scent of peaches receded.  Her
mouth opened into a small 'o' of near horror.  He looked like...

"It's your world," came James's voice.  "You control it."  Firm hands
suddenly became soft and smaller.  A cascade of blond hair dropped down,
framing Melanie's face as feminine lips pressed against hers.  "Your world
to control," the feminine voice said with a breathy air, the smell of
vanilla and strawberries filled their immediate space.

"Delusions of grandeur," Ashcroft muttered.  "That can't be healthy."

She made her choice and felt the weight on her suddenly change.  She stared
at Antares.

The pink, lop-eared bunny stared benignly back at her.

"Neat," she said.

She gently picked the pink bunny up by the scruff of its neck, set it down
at the top of the yellow plastic, patted it perfunctorily on the top of its
fuzzy head, and pushed it down.

"HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!" the pink bunny said as he slipped down the slide.
Falling off the plastic before standing back up and looking at his cotton
tail.  "Look at my butt!!!  It's wet!!!  MUAHAHAHAHHAHA"

Soluk, appearing at Melanie's side, watched as the gleeful pink creature
scampered back up to the top, water droplets spraying from its fluffy tail,
seemingly oblivious of the heavy webbing Angela was busily weaving across
the bottom of the yellow tarp.  He sighed deeply.  "Mellyn, when will you
ever learn?"

*~*~*~*~*

Ashcroft's eyes snapped open.  She looked over her shoulder to see Sari
glaring sleepily at her.

"Wha-?" Ashcroft asked articulately.

Sari sighed again.  "The correct answer, mellyn," she mumbled, "is 'I won't
learn anything tonight so I will stop thrashing around and waking my sweet
and wonderful friend Sari up at three o'clock in the morning'."  The
Guardian glared at her for a moment longer then indulged herself in a
massive yawn before flopping back down to the grass.  She dropped an arm
over Ashcroft's waist and pulled her closer, pointing out, her voice muffled
by the back of Ashcroft's robes, "Whatever you were dreaming about would've
earned you at least another two lashes."

Ashcroft considered.  "Probably three."

Sari grunted.  "Yeah, well.  Just don't throw another rock at me and we'll
call it even.  Go back to sleep."


======================
Ensign James Antares
CFCO USS Endurance
Played by Jai

Lieutenant Melanie Ashcroft
Chief Security Officer (CSO)
USS Endurance
Player:  Amanda
======================


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

----------------------------------------------------------
MD: 18
Time: 0921
Scene: Outpost
----------------------------------------------------------
Darius had taken his time trying to get everything to work but the blank
room, as he'd come to term it, had always niggled in the back of his
head. So while he jury-rigged the environmental controls to work better
for the duration of the away team's absence - his actual solution needed
the computer to 'reboot' to use an archaic term - he was thinking of
ways past it. With the Captain gone and Mr. Antares in charge, Darius
wanted to make sure he had a full understanding of what it was he had
run into.

Why would someone, like Benning, secure a room like that and
then...block it from a telepath? He'd had a headache most of the day
from that little sojourn...and the other three or four he'd done from
various areas of the compound. Those had opened him up a little more
than he liked and he'd been able to -feel- the tension and stress
swirling around like a brewing storm. The fourth time he'd shut down
very quickly and decided to call it a night in his hole in the wall.

Now it was morning and after turning the engineers he'd gotten the night
before loose on the little things needing to be brought up to speed,
Darius had retired to a room with an unused computer terminal, a rarity
in these parts it seemed. Now he focused on getting into the computer's
main systems and finding out what the hell was going on in that room.

The CEO focused on the original plans of the outpost first, his
attention riveted. Apparently that room had been a store room, meant for
supplies. Which would explain why the supplies were scattered
haphazardly across the outpost. Now that he knew -what- it was, he
started in on the internal sensors to tell him what was inside it...and
that was where he ran into his second intriguing tidbit about the room.
The sensors...didn't register it. Running a quick check, Darius was able
to find everything and everyone else with them but that room registered
like a gigantic black hole. There were two possibilities – the sensors
had been disabled or the computer had been instructed with high command
codes to not let sensor information pass. He was willing to bet which it
had been, though either was an intriguing option.

Finally he sat back, a grim look on his face. What was it that Benning
was hiding? Or anyone in the outpost for that matter but given what he'd
-felt- personally, he was willing to bet, even surer this time, that it
was Benning behind this room. With Campos the outpost head researcher
person gone, that left Benning...

Suddenly he sat up and cursed very fluently in his native language and
got up. He really hoped he was wrong but only some sleuthing would help
him figure that out.
--------------------
ENS Darius Yavan
CEO - USS Endurance
Played By: Jacob

MD: 01
Time: 0930
Scene: Holodeck 5
--- --- --- --- ---


Ophelia walked a little ways along the large lake.  The scene was one that she
had visited once on Earth in a place called Colorado.  There were mountains
surrounding the scene and the Sun was over head adding a little warmth to the
slightly chilly air.  She carried two fishing poles in one hand and a tackle box
in the other.  How could she go wrong with this scenario?  She would be meeting
Commander Denzer there in just... well just as soon as he arrived.  She would
give him his entrance psych evaluation and then they would go on their way. 
Well, if things went well, that is how they would go.  Right?  As she waited for
the Commander to arrive, she found a nice spot where it looked like their might
be some fish activity.

"A beautiful place, isn't it?" His voice was calm as it suddenly penetrated the
serene setting. He stepped out from the underbrush and approached her with sure
steps. Not exactly the 'lying on the couch' kind of session he had expected, but
the bit of fresh air, however artificial, was a welcome diversion. It looked
very earth-like, blue sky, mountains covered by snow and a clear water lake. He
took a deep breath and looked across the water.

Ophelia turned and offered the commander a smile.  It was a cautious one that
almost made it to her black Betazoid eyes.  "Yes it is.  I was here once when I
was a child. I do not remember the specific name of the place other than it was
in a State called Colorado."  She offered.  "My couch is not that comfortable to
lie on."  She started then, when she felt the surprise of her choice of
locations for their meeting.  "Besides, a counselors office is not condusive to
people opening up with what they are thinking or feeling.  I like to take a
different approach with my counseling sessions."  She added, mentally daring the
Commander to have a problem with that.

Different was a curious word to chose for this setting. But he was going to give
it a chance. Last time she was at his mercy, now he was on her turf. The least
thing he could do was to be patient. Besides, he adored the outdoor scenery. It
had been months since his last excursion and he sure could use some relaxation.

He planted his rear end on a outcropping rock and stretched his legs, then
pointed to a place to his left. "Please, don't let me keep you up on your feet."

The black eyed Betazoid counselor paused a moment, getting a feel for the
commander.  She got a pleased vibe off of him.  She also sensed that he was
being cautious as well.  So she smiled a little and moved to take a seat where
he indicated and handed a pole over to him.  "I learned from your records that
you enjoy the outdoors."  She started, setting the tackle box between them and
opening it up.  She went about setting her pole with a lure and some bait.  "Do
you fish?"  She asked him.

"Actually, I do ," he remarked. In more than just one way, that was. He had just
spent a whole hour luring words out of a pratty Vulcan, fishing for some insight
in her mind. He had spent years dangling lures in front of enemies and reeled
them in with big nets. But using a string with a pole with at one end and a
questionably alive animal at the other had been quite some time.

"I have to admit, this is bringing back some memories." He reached over to the
remaining pole and after a few tries, everything that was supposed to be
attached to the end of it held and was ready to be used. The rod and the string
made a whirring sound and the hook splashed into the calm water some distance
away from them. Slowly it was reeled in again, not a slightest hint of a fish
anywhere.

"What brought you to Earth as a child, counsellor?" he asked, whipping his pole
once again to repeat the procedure.

"My family went on vacation there."  Ophelia offered.  "My father knew somebody
who had a cabin.  We stayed there for a few weeks that summer.  I think I was
only eight."  She added, watching the string on her pole, following it to where
it disappeared into the water.  "It was one of the best and worst times of my
life I think."  She also added.  "You realise it is difficult for a Betazoid
child who is still getting a handle on their telepathy, to be taken so far away
from home and put out in the wilderness where there is nothing but you, your
family and a bunch of wildlife.  And believe me, I tried connecting with the
wild life too and I can tell you with out a doubt there is not much there with a
lot if not all animals."  She pointed out.

He let out a short laugh. It must have been an interesting thing to read a
wolf's or a bear's mind, or may be the deer's that was hunted. The hook made its
way back, only to be thrown out again. It was relaxing. Nothing but a light
breeze and nature around. For an instance he forgot he was on board of a star
ship. He fell silent and gazed while slowly repeating the same movement over
again. His thoughts ran free for a while.

Ophelia was distracted slightly by the sound of the lures hitting the water and
the relaxing sounds of nature.  Finally after several minutes, she pushed those
distractions away and looked over at the Commander.  She wasn't exactly sure how
to ask what she needed to ask after the way they had previously met.  At least
not with out sounding perhaps like a smart ass.  "What is your goal now that you
are the executive officer on the Southern Cross?"  She finally asked, not
totally satisfied with the way it sounded.  But it was out there and they would
go with it.

He gave her a small glance from the side, then whipped the pole again. In an
instant nature had taken a back seat and his instincts took over with full
force. What a perfectly innocent question to ask. Unless you were the counsellor
and had just ratted on you a couple days ago. He smiled, while thinking for a
moment. There were so many answers to choose from. 'Whipping this crew in
shape', 'making my mark', 'becoming Captain'. Weren't all the command officers
supposed to have a vision? He had to think of the speech he had given to the
pilot chief earlier. Freedom! Now there was an ideal to live and die for. Noble
and grant, a goal if there ever was one. He took a breath.

"My goal is to finish that book lying on my night stand." Now how was that for a
curve ball.


The dark haired woman choked back a sigh.  She could sense it was a lie.  Well
not a complete lie.  She could sense that it was part truth.  Perhaps there was
a book right where he said it was that he wanted to finish.  But like most
people, he was holding back from her and she was going to be damned if she let
him do it.  No.  If he was going to be the overbearing brute that he seemed to
be, then he was damn well going to share with her.

"That is only half truth Commander.  I sense that you are a very ambitious man. 
You have goals as Commander of this ship that has a good deal of her crew shook
up."  She pointed out bluntly now.  "And I do not think those goals have
anything to do with a book on your night stand."  She added.  "You have shaken
things up since you stepped foot on this ship.  The question is why?"

He laughed out loud this time and all the holographic fish disappeared into
their holographic hiding places. "Ah, good old Betazoid empathy. Hard to hide
from an ever watchful mind, isn't it?"

The rod whipped once more into the now deserted water. "Let me ask you a
question, counsellor: are you asking me because of a professional concern or out
of personal curiosity?"


Ophelia reeled her lure in and set her pole aside before turning on her portion
of rock to face the commander.  "In all honesty commander, both."  She said.  "I
know you and I did not meet under the best of circumstances a fact for which I
have apologized."  she added.  "But it seems that you have not met many of the
crew under the best of circumstances as well, leaving them as I said before,
shaken up when it comes to you."  She pointed out.  "And the mental and
emotional well being of this crew is my job.  It is my duty to make sure that
they are mentally fit in order to serve this ship and Star Fleet."  She added. 
"So again Commander is why?  Why are you shaking everyone up on this ship?  Why
are they afraid of you?  What do you have to gain from all of this.?"  She
asked.  "Just be straight with me."

"The crew of this ship, counsellor, is shaken up, that much is true. But not
because of me, but because of what happened before I came on board. I didn't
cause officers to be offended by following orders, I just exposed the fact."

He turned his face towards her. "The fact is that this crew has been through
many traumatic situations and changes within the last few months and certain
patterns have found their way into the daily routine that are not beneficial for
the ship. You may not be aware of it as a part of it, but to an outsider it is
quite apparent."

"The ship has everything to gain from changing this to a healthier routine, one
that gives us a higher chance of staying alive during our next unfriendly
encounter, wouldn't you agree?"


"Assuming Commander, that I do agree with you, don't you think there is a better
way to bring this about than the way you are doing it?"  She asked.  "Have
you not heard the saying that it is easier to catch flies with honey rather than
vinegar?"  she asked him.  "Is it possible that perhaps you and I could work
together to help bring about a healthier routine and change for the crew of this
ship?"  She asked.  "After all the mental health of this crew is my
responsibility.  So I will be the first to volunteer for this."  She added.  She
would do anything to help this crew, especially if it helped their new
commanding officer lighten up a little.

"I really do hope, you are not comparing yourself to a fly, Lieutenant." He
smirked very so slightly. "I am not in the business of creating a warm and fuzzy
environment. We are Starfleet, not a retirement home. It may not have occurred
to some of the staff, but this is a military outfit. Based on military rules.
And exposed to real military threats."

"I do appreciate your concern for the mental health of this crew. It concerns me
just as much. And I will do everything in my power to keep everyone of you alive
and safe on this journey. In order to do that we need a little less honey and a
little more discipline. Beginning with you and I."


Ophelia took a few moments to consider what the commandeer was saying and to
formulate her on reply.  She nodded once.  "Sir, the crew of this ship may be a
military outfit, and everyone of us know this.  But out here in space so far
away from anything and everything, we are also each others family."  She said
slowly.  "We all look after each other on duty and off duty."  She added.  "And
this crew is a very fine crew and has performed well beyond exception."  She
also pointed out.  "However, as you pointed out, we have seen our share of
tragedy over the last couple of missions, which can take its toll on everyone." 
She conceded.  "I am more than willing to compromise with you on there being
more discipline on this ship."  Ophelia said.  "Is it possible for us to create
a more disciplined routine that does not involve the crew thinking you are an
ass and running the other way when you come around?"  she asked him bluntly.

"It is so very interesting that you should say this. Just a moment ago you
mentioned family and trust. The same holds true for a command structure. When I
give an order why would you think I am an ass - I am going to pretend you were
referring to fauna - and would abuse my rank? Why does a command immediately
imply arrogance or condescendence? Why couldn't you just trust me when I ordered
you to sickbay, when in fact I had only your best intentions in mind? This is
really what we are talking about now, isn't it?" The hook had sunk deep into the
water by now, the line was loose and dangling off the pole.


"Yes in part."  The black eyed Betazoid woman said.  "In this situation, I am
pregnant not dying.  Morning sickness is something that naturally comes along
with pregnancy.  It is treatable and I had already been to sickbay.  The baby's
father and mother are both doctors after all."  She pointed out.  "I had already
been given a routine to treat it and felt no need to go back.  That particular
day, I was feeling quite well actually and in turn ate something that I was
craving.  Looking back, it was not a wise idea to do so, and unfortunately, your
uniform paid the price."  She pointed out and could already see how he was going
to spin this story to his own use.  If she had been more disciplined in her
routine, she would never have gotten sick.

"My point is Commander..."  She started again before he could have the chance to
say anything.  "We are a family here as well as a military unit and we trust
each other with our lives.  You are new here and so far have seemingly done
nothing but throw your weight around and treat us like we do not know what we
are doing.  Give us a reason to trust you Commander.  Give us a reason to like
you.  You are after all, now a part of this family too and any one of us would
be willing to work for you and give you everything we have.  But none of it is
any good if we do not have a reason to trust you."

'We are bound by who we are and who we surround ourselves with.' Only an hour
ago he had told it to a defiant Vulcan. Now the roles were reversed. He knew he
was right, all the facts were on his side and he could bury the counsellor under
a mile of evidence to prove it.  The fundamental understanding of command
structure. The inherent absence of knowledge within trust. The simple fact that
she was asking something of him but was unwilling to offer the same in return,
or even first. Again and again, more ammunition he would ever need to finish the
job, a small glimpse of how Nerali must have felt when she stood in front of
him, with every bit of detail being brushed away like a piece of trash. And the
knowledge of power to reverse the roles in an instant if he desired so.

But this was not about right or wrong, not about the details but the bigger
picture. He had become to comfortable in his role, the way things had run on the
Whithaker, smooth and trained. Everybody knew what was expected of them and
acted accordingly.
This ship was nothing like it and the schisms that ran through the crew were as
deep and wide as the galaxy itself. So wide that a simple command was
interpreted as bullying. No wonder after the disastrous outcome of the last few
missions. A killed Captain, a killed - and luckily resurrected - executive
officer, the entire senior staff strung out over half the quadrant with no-one
to turn to. Trust had not been part of that arrangement.

Trust was reserved for certain friends only, the happy family was divided and
the red headed stepchild had to work hard to be allowed to eat the crumbs under
the kitchen table. The picture was all wrong and he needed to get his hands
dirty, if only for the reason of bringing a new sense of purpose into the halls
of this vessel. They needed to know that the reason they went 'out there' was a
good one and that their command officers were there for a reason and could be
trusted just for the simple fact that they were in command. And if it took
eating a piece of humble pie to get there, by the galaxy he was going to do it.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, counsellor. That was not my intention. I can
only offer this by saying: trust me, I know what I am doing. Trust is more than
a personal thing it also takes in the context. I trust your judgement as
counsellor, I haven't seen your work first hand, but I still trust it as you
have made it into this position. Trust is credit and I give this credit to you.
I simply ask the same of you. Give me this credit and in time I will pay it back
to you."


Ophelia was taken aback by the Commander's apology and she almost did not know
what to say.  She looked down at her hands as she gathered her thoughts and then
looked back at the Commander.  "I appreciate your apology and I also apologize
if my own behavior has been a little hostile."  She offered in return.  She
paused a moment and then offered the older man a smile.  "This is exactly what I
have been trying to say.  Trust is a two way street.  I will trust you
Commander.  Please give everyone else the chance to do so as well and I promise,
you will not be disappointed."  She added.  Just then there was a beep from the
holo computer, letting them know that the hour was up.  "I think we have an
appointment on the bridge for the launch."

"I believe you are right." he replied matter of factly. The pole dropped onto
the floor and he got up from the the hard surface. They had bigger fish to fry
now.

---

Cmdr. Sean Denzer, XO
USS Southern Cross
played by Gerhard

-

Lt.jg Ophelia Beleran
CNS - USS Southern Cross
Played by Brenda

---------------------------------------------------
MD: 18
Time:  0917
Scene:  Temple of the Sun, Velanio
---------------------------------------------------

Raith's opportunity wasn't going to come anytime soon.  Eshir had given the
doctor over into the hands of a guardian for the express purpose of `showing
Ryn-Shi around the temple' with orders to `take it easy' on the young Shimaun,
who was just recovering.  In the meantime the elder Shimaun had some urgent work
to do and promised to see Raith later.

"Would you like to start with the worship center where the ceremony will be held
this evening or would you prefer to end with that location?"  Her name was
Cori-Lun and she smiled up at him, a pair of sea green eyes dancing in a warm
pink face.  Her features were small and cute, her stature short and petite. 
There was a good ten inches between them and Raith found himself ducking his
head to better hear her soft tones.

"Let's end there.  That way if I feel myself getting tired we'll know to leave
off the tour and go straight there since I am supposed to see that place above
all."  Raith studied the guardian's easy going grace and youthful appearance. 
He was starting to understand something regarding the spot patterns on Capernian
heads and if he judged right this one was barely out of her teens if even that. 
And by Capernian standards that made her round about Ryn-Shi's age, though Raith
himself was probably twice that in reality.

"Very well, child of O'rynn."  She smiled up at him and made an easy left turn
into a broader corridor.  "No doubt upon arriving for the first time at the
Temple of the Sun you were overwhelmed and even now easily lost amongst its many
passage ways?"

Could there be a bigger understatement?  "Actually I came... sort of at night
and not under my own power.  I don't remember much about getting here, but the
few trips I've made have been rather confusing."  Raith confessed, hoping the
admission would gain him and by extension the observation post some kind of
insight.

"It's actually not that difficult once you understand the design."   As they
walked Cori-Lun explained.  "The widest path is that of A'krin Dah."  She
stepped out into an intersecting corridor and Raith could tell that the width of
it was at least twice that of the side corridor they'd come through.  "This is
the main path.  One side of it ends at the grand entrance where A'krin Dah
ascends the steps every morning.  The other side culminates in the quarters and
sanctuary of the high priestess, D'kija-Lun."

Raith nodded his head.  "So, if I get lost... I should at least be able to get
help on this main thoroughfare?"

"Exactly, Ryn-Shi."  Cori-Lun dipped her head in respect.  "As for the
surrounding passages the statuary and tapestries serve as guides."  She crossed
the wide corridor of A'krin Dah and moved them into the adjacent passageway. 
Here she paused at a statue set in the recessed nook of the wall.  "What do you
see?"

"A warrior."  Raith turned his head and looked at the opposite side and a bit
down the way spotting another and yet another.  "Or rather warriors.  They line
the corridor?"

Cori-Lun nodded.  "This leads to the Guardian barracks and training grounds." 
She reached out and caught his arm.  "But we'll not continue further this way." 
Canting her head back in the direction they'd come, she led him out to the main
hall and down it towards another side passage.  Her finger raised and pointed up
to indicate one of a series of colorful banners.

"Service?  The kitchen?"  Raith speculated.

"And the laundry as well as the baths and the healer's ward."  Cori-Lun motioned
him back across the main hall to another corridor...

-------------------
Time: 1007
-------------------


Raith had spent close to an hour seeing what he could of the temple and
unraveling the coded decor lining the various hallways.  He'd figured out by way
of deductive reasoning that the circle tapestries he'd mentioned to Ashcroft
were lining the corridor leading to the worship center.  The courtyard had been
awfully close.  Of course, knowing the command center of the outpost was likely
jotting down everything they heard, he decided as they made their final walk in
that direction to state the obvious.

"So these tapestries with the Eridai lead to the worship center?"

Cori-Lun smiled, mistaking his question for a commentary on how he was feeling. 
"Yes, Ryn-Shi.  We're almost there.  Would you like to rest?"  Her eyes were
concerned as she placed her hand beneath his elbow to offer her support.  "You
look tired."

Raith frowned, well aware of what that meant. "Maybe just a bit tired, but no,
let's keep going if we're about there."  He looked down into her wide eyes,
seeing what amounted to near hero worship.  He was beginning to understand that
being Shimaun in this society was almost like being an instant celebrity.  And
he decided in that moment that he really didn't like it; though it hardly
mattered how he felt.

Cori-Lun walked beside Raith as they turned the corner and moved down a narrow
tapestry lined corridor that ended in the largest rock hewn Cathedral the doctor
had ever laid eyes upon.  It was roughly the size of an entire starship deck
minus all the walls and divisions for compartments and quarters.  Overhead was a
ceiling that appeared to be made of blown glass.  He could see the night
darkened sky through the panes beveled with stars.  On one wall a brilliant sun
was painted in yellow, orange, and gold; while on the opposing wall a delicate
moon was painted in pale white on a dark backdrop.  The floor in the very center
between the two was mapped out with an elaborate circular swirl.

One of Raith's hands came up to rest against the nearest wall for support and
jerked back immediately as something beneath his fingertips moved.  His head
turned to take in a wall with a myriad of small pegs stabbed into its surface...
literally hundreds of them.  On many of the hooks hung a vast colorful array of
amulets.  Raith cocked his head to one side.

"The prayer wall."  Cori-Lun moved to stand beside him.   "People sometimes
request the guardians or the Shimaun –  if they're lucky enough to meet one – to
place their medallion on the prayer wall facing A'krin Dah,"  she pointed to the
brilliant sun rendition, "I'tsuri Lun"  she pointed to the moon, "and O'rynn
Shi."  Finally she pointed at the beveled glass overhead.  "It's considered a
blessing."

"Could I?"  Raith slowly began to work the medallion from beneath his robe.

Cori-Lun watched with an upraised eyebrow.  "I don't see why not."  She offered
Raith a big smile.  "Prayer for your community back home?"

"Something like that."  Raith agreed with a smile of his own as he lifted the
medallion up to a height he knew would capture the center of the room even if
there were people standing in the way.  Not knowing the customs he murmured a
few incomprehensible words with his head bowed.  Ashcroft was going to kill him.
But Raith felt the risk was worth it.  He turned around to face the room at
large, knowing full well that the scientists at the outpost had just gone from
seeing white cloth up close to the most beautiful Cathedral...  "You're
welcome."

"Excuse me?"  Cori-Lun turned to look back at the doctor.

"I'm sorry...  I was thinking of those back home."  Raith looked towards the
scene in front of him before letting his eyes stray back to the guardian.  "Is
it all right if I..."  he motioned in that direction.

"Oh yes, Ryn-Shi.  It is permitted.  Please do get to know your surroundings. 
Eshir would say that knowledge keeps one from becoming distracted."

With a nod of his head, Raith slowly made his way down to the center of the
room.  There inside the circle on the floor he turned back and lifted a hand to
wave, his eyes on the medallion hanging on the wall.  "Can you see me now..." 
He murmured.


=*=

Ensign Ceryn Raith
CMO - USS Endurance
Written by:  Cyd

MD: 03
Time: 0730
Scene: Training area
--------------------------------

After gathering in as much of the edible moss that they needed to supplement
them on the immediate journey ahead, James turned his attention to what else
could be gathered. He took note that there were various couloured berries, and
alos noted the frequency in which they grew around them. Widening his scope of
area, he could see from a distance that in fact,they grew quite randomly and in
large populouses.

"Ok, next we have the berries" he said to Farro.

Farro, without having to be asked, took a handfull of the berries off of the
bush near him and handed them to James saying "Do we use the same technique for
these as we did for the moss?"

"Primarily yes" James answered, taking the berries and laying them on the flat
stone, once he'd cleared it of the moss and the liquid from the moss.

"Primarily?" Farro questioned.

"Berries have a different quality, though the break down of the enzymes is the
same" James replied, "Berries are harder for the body to digest, and they take
longer in the digestive tract, but we also have to be aware of the natural
sugars like fructose that occur in berries, because it may cause unpleasant
reactions in some people who are fructose intollerant" James finished.

The look on Jones face was enough for James to further explain "If we happen to
have someone here in our group who is indeed fructose intollerant, then unknown
to them, eating the berries could cause belching, give them cramps or worse,
cause them to have diarrhea."

Jones screweedher faceup at the thought of that, and said "Ok, well, let's make
sure they're safe then."

"Absolutmo" James replied with a smile. He took the berries, squashed them on
the stone with the round rock, and them fished about in his pack for a different
supplement pill. Finding what he needed, he ground the pill down, and mixed part
of the it with the berry juice and flesh. Again, waiting about a minute, he saw
that there was no colour change so he declared "These berries are safe for us to
use, as long as we know if anyone is fructose intollerant, and we can stear them
clear of them. Ok, let's get gathering some of these, andalso bring meany
samples ofother different coloured berries you see around here, we need to test
them all."

Farro and Jones both nodded, and set off to gather in more berries. Satisfied
that so far he would be ableto report to Commander Baer that they had
supplemental foods growing naturaly around them, James stood up and looked
around the group of officers and crew, taking a mental note of who was doing
what.

It then occured to him that a number of the regular senoir staff weren't there.

"Why would only some of us be here on this training mission, and definately
'why' isn't the Chief of Security and Chief Medical Officer not here with us?"
he questioned himself out loud.

He pondered for a minute for an answer to the question and then knew any answer
he did come up with didn't sit right with him, so he walked off to find the
Commander and ask him.
---------------------------------------------------

Lt/jg James Nestor
Chief Science Officer
Uss Cherokee
Played by Drew.

MD:05
Time: 13:30
Scene : Nottingham's Quarters

------------------------------------------

Ensign Nottingham was in her quarters, she was taking the chance to do a quick
change before continuing with her duties. She had spoken to the Captain about
her concerns over the meeting with the Caretaker and yet she felt they had no
choice but to do as he had suggested in order to find the crew of the Regalia.

She could not shake of the feeling that some-one was watching her as she stepped
in the sonic shower but she knew there was no-one else in her quarters. She
reached for the clean uniform and pulled it over her head when she was grabbed
from behind. Not even given a chance to cry out for an intruder alert she saw
her quarters fade from view. She was being teleported and yet it was not the
usual blue light of a Star Fleet teleportation.

When she came round she found she was in complete darkness and she screamed, the
sudden thought that HE had come back for her entering her mind. Laughter echoed
around her and as her eyes grew used to her surrounding she realised she was
just in a cell yet she couldn't see a door of any kind. She gave a whimper
before moving over to the walls, the science officer within her coming to the
surface as she began to check for panels. The shock she got knocked her off her
feet and she gave another squeal. "what do you want from me?" She yelled looking
around her for any sign that there was some-one monitoring her.

The laughter continued and then she heard it. "We just want you to be happy. We
can make you happy. You have far too much distrust within you." A Strange mist
filled the room at that point and she tried her best not to breath it in, she
collapsed to her knees, the smile already spreading across her face as she
entered a coma like state.

-----------------------------------------
Ensign Tamra Nottingham
CNS - USS Asimov
Player - Billy

MD 05
Time: 1325
Scene: Bridge Regalia

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Kastner knew th routine from the start, if this was a virus going back to the
Asimov would not be wise;  It most likely had no effect on the planet below or
there would have been a wide spread panic and the Asimov would have been
forbidden to enter orbit.

Now knowing what a communications system is capable of and what dangers come
with using those systems it was nto hard to conclude that any direct
communications with the Asimov would endanger the ship only the internal systems
of the suit seemed uneffected by the virus.

T'Lin had already given Kastner the warning not to touch anything as there was a
danger that Kastner had been looking for and one of the few reasons to abandoned
ship; he had also noted though the tricorder range that all the shuttles were
also off the ship.

Kastner had an idea of what would likely happen if they tried to use the Regalia
equipment to return; in all reality the systems would currupt Asimov and even
the chance that the Suits might cause…"

Kastner had a bad thought about how far the contamination might have gone; he
had to run a check on things but if he was right then the return to the Asimov
might have to go via the planet. He went over towards the Contol panel and
glanced at the displays while brigning out his tricorder. He had a lock on the
Planet with the OPS station for communications and he gave a scan of it with the
tricorder. It was not calibrated and eh actual distence was varied as the
calibration was .00045 off; from a distence of orbit 22,000 miles that would be
the distence from New York to somewhere in the state of Indiana if a directiona
laser were used to calibrate location and Global placement.  That kind of a
miscalibration could cause a shuttle to crash all right.

"Commander; I am reading a minute variation of location calibration; if a
shuttle or transporter are used from this ship we could be looking at hundreds
of miles diviation of location; since the transporter is calibrated for the
distance relative tot eh planet all calculations bu the computer could be
diasterouly miscalculated.  I would suggest the use of Asimov's transporter to
place us on the planet when we exit to be safe." Kastner suggested. "The
computers of Asimov seem uneffected and since we are not sure if our being here
can change or effect the virus transmission returning to the ship might endanger
the Asimov while we can presume the crew on the surface were safe thus far as
there are no bodies we have seen."

Kastner waited for a Command decision."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Ensign Hans Kastner
USS Asimov-COPS
Portrayed by Robert M

************ ***
MD: 05
Time: 1320 hours
Scene: Bridge – USS Regalia
****************

Devyn slowly headed up to the bridge with Edem, they had spent almost an hour
down in engineering trying to figure out why the Regalia's warp core was
completely shut down.  He had spent most of the time just running several
different diagnostic tests hoping that it would explain the mystery.  But that
revealed nothing conclusive.  And now he was requested to the bridge he hadn't
began his hands-on look of the warp core, for all he knew something had broken
or was missing.  There was no real telling why it wasn't running, one thing he
did know the crew wasn't the one who shut it down.

The Commander explained for him to check out Kastner's finds of the apparent
virus in the ships computer systems, the minute he walked onto the bridge.  So
he quickly walked over to the main Engineering console and got to work.  It
didn't take him long to find the virus within the main systems of the ship.  The
virus was extremely complex and deeply embedded into some of the systems.  Devyn
let out a deep breath.  The coding of the virus was nothing he'd ever seen
before.

He kept the computer core offline just in case and continued to poke around some
of the other systems to see if he could find the main part of the virus.  Devyn
was only getting bits and pieces of code that were streaming through his
console.  "It looks like the virus has infected part of the warp core and the
computer core…" He glanced over at Macklyn.  "And it's infecting almost half the
ships systems."  Devyn had no idea why his diagnostic tests down in engineering
didn't reveal any hint of a virus running into the warp core systems.

Devyn pulled his hands back away from the console and took a quick step back,
"no one touch anything!"  He suddenly recognized something in the code and it
was bad very… very bad.

******************
Ensign Devyn Steele
CEO - USS Asimov
played by Pam

MD:14
Time: 08:40
Place:Skolari power facility.
======== ======== ========

Hanson stood up and cringed in pain as his back screamed at him. The work being
completed on the station was numerous.

But problems were mounting on the Pegasus as well the sensors were hardly
working. Arai has told him they were having troubles with the transporters, and
the energy transfer had drained some of her reserves and blown some EPS relays.

Nothing his fine engineering team aboard couldn't handle. But he wanted to be
there. His first mission and he hadn't really got to know her. So here he was
working on the station.

"ensign the replacment engineering team should be down he momentarily. I've been
putting off going outside the station. To inspect the damage from out there. "
he said as he made his way over to his enviromental suit.

"not a problem sir I can maintain things here security is still outside the
door." she said still looking somewhat concerned.

"the shuttle with the sullied and the team checked in a few mins ago they should
be making their way here shortly.

The transporters are being taken offline till I can get up there an deal with it
myself so were stuck using the stations limited capabilities. So I need to brief
them. I'll meet them at the airlock station good luck. "

  Hanson pulled on his suit, attached his tool belt, and tucked him helmet under
arm then went to meet the team coming to the station.

As he arrived a team of 4 crew members from his engineering team were removing
helmets, and hauling heavy crates of supplies and tools into the hall way.

He recognized all but one of them. Ens. Hernandez a tall human with a heavy
Spanish accent, a nco by the name of m'katgh a member of the Klingon exchange
program, and ens tas'Havah a bolian with a rather interesting sense of humor.

The fourth member of the team was interesting to say the least. Hanson hadn't
met him before only hear by reputation.

  He was a Pahkwa-thanh. A species that resembeled a dinosour to put most simply.
They greatly relied on genetic modification and were rather similar to the Borg,
in regards to cybernetics and implants.

His custom made enviromental suit made him seem rather uncomftorable. Hanson
imagined fitting his tail into the suit would be something rather commical.

"Hanson" he said as he extended his arm to greet the new face.

"Trolan Anti Visek Ari, everyone calls me Trolan or Ari. Whatver you prefer sir.
" he smiled at Hanson and flicked his snake like tounge.

" okay well as you know our sensors are lacking the transporters are down, for
the most part. I'm sure you've read the briefing were in a bad state here and to
boot were being shot at.

The security team will be following you for the most part the repairs are being
done in the main power facility. It's a mess well leave it at that you'll be
seeing engineering triage at it's best. So just follow the security officer here
and get started. " Hanson pointed the team down the hall and put his helmet on.

"where are you going sir?" Trolan turned from the rest of the team to adress
hanson.

" I have to do a exterior inspection due to lack of sensors. I need to assess
the damage and. Find out where I'm leaking power. " Hanson said as he checked
his equipment one more time.

"umm do you mind if I tag along?" he moved closer to hanson and said quietly"
getting out of this suit isn't exactly fun. "

Hanson smirked. "the company will be more then welcome finish suiting up and
let's go moon walking. "

======== ======== =========
Ensign Hanson Savard
CEO USS Pegasus
Played by: the one, the only Ryan.

Sent from my iPod excuse the writing mistakes.

MD: 01
Time:0830
Scene: Halls of the Southern Cross
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

After the meeting came to a close,  Ophelia followed Shinsuke out of the
observation lounge.   She hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him before the
meeting started and she had little time now.  She had several meetings and a
launch to attend beforet he day was out.  It felt good to have a mission and to
be back to work.

"I want to thank you Shinsuke."  Ophelia said as they walked.  "It was a very
lovely ceremony, though it was only a private one this time. We are however
still planning a public ceremony that we would both be very pleased if you
attend."  She explained.  "Clothes are optional."  She quickly added with a
smile.  "It is Betazoid custom that the
wedding party and guest are nude.  It is a symbol of openess and trust."  She
explained.  "However, we do realise that those who are not Betazoid may not be
comfortable with this custom."

He shot Ophelia a bemused look, left eyebrow slightly lifted. "Nude?"  he
repeated in the form of a question. "While I am personally not uncomfortable
with the concept I am not sure I would be able to view either Commander Anij or
Denzer in the same light afterwards," he added with a half smile.

He dipped his head slightly, eyes briefly closing. "I would be honoured to
attend and witness your nuptials," he said in his
characteristically serene voice. So that same serenity hadn't been present last
night when he and Qeynan were purging the cargo hold... or, perhaps, during
their game of darts and when he'd impaled that Klingon's biceps but it had
returned this morning. Thankfully in time for the senior officers' meeting, too.

"And your pregnancy is still progressing well?" His eyes glinted slightly. "You
will soon need to loosen the seams of your tunic!" His expression told her he
was teasing had his tone not already done so.

Ophelia laughed, still smiling.  "The pregnancy is progressing well." She
confirmed before leaning toward Shinksuke and whispered concpiratorialy before
quickly looking around. "I do not think Commander Denzer would agree. I
unfortunately lost my lunch all over his uniform the other day."  She confessed,
a slight twinkle in her eyes.  "I can tell you, he was not pleased."

Shinsuke laughed. "I wish I had been there to witness it," he replied with a
smile. "I gather most people have had a less than agreeable meeting with the new
commander. I have to admit, though, I have yet to see that side of him." He went
on to explain about their first meeting - namely the one that had taken place in
a holosuite and across a pair
of sparring bat'leths. "And then again last night," he added with a wry lift of
his shoulders. "Qeynan and I had to clean up after the voles in the cargo hold
until well after midnight." He lifted a hand to rub at his aching eyes. "After
that we visited the lounge and I'm ashamed to say I awoke this morning with
something of a hangover!" It was his own fault, though, and he wouldn't even
contemplate striving for sympathy. "I do feel that vomiting over the commander
is the best tale I have heard so far but I am sure he fully realised why it
happened. Morning sickness can't be pleasant to endure, Ophelia-sama."

"It is not plesant at all.  I could describe it to you, but I think that might
be as bad as the real thing."  Ophelia said.  "I will
however say that I do not wish it on anyone."  She pointed out. Looking sideways
at Shinsuke, Ophelia laughed again.  "Hopefully the seams of my uniform are the
only ones that will need to be let out. If I get to big, we may have to let out
the seams on the ship."  She teased.

"I hope that doesn't come to pass as I have a feeling the engineering chief 
will have something of a fit if so!"

The pair moved on.

"So, what do you make of our latest mission? I have to admit I am not sure  what
to expect. The unexpected, perhaps?" He was still unsure whether Ophelia should
be included in the mission, being that she was expectant but - as before - he'd
do whatever it took to ensure her continued safety.  That and of her unborn
child. "And how long do you foresee being placed on the ship? I assume in time
you will be seconded to the base staff... I admit I will not like it when that
happens."

"Well, the mission on the surface definately sounds like a standard answer to a
distress call."  Ophelia said thoughtfully.  "But I have learned not to take
anything for granted.  Anything can happen out there, so it is always good to be
on our guard and to prepare for the unknown."  She added.  "As for the part I
will play in this, I do not know that I will need to even leave the Cross at
all.  But we shall see when they get there.  The ship we are going to assist is
not an enemy ship, so I should be just as safe there as on our own ship." She
pointed out.  "Still, we will not take that for granted..."  She reiterated.

"Still."  Ophelia went on.  "I know between you and Dr. Morningstar, nothing is
likely to happen to me or baby."  She said to Shinsuke, whom she felt
comfortable in saying was a friend.

He nodded slightly as he listened to Ophelia's reply. He agreed in that the
mission sounded basically safe but then again, their last one had been of the
same type. Another mission of mercy but they both knew how that had turned
out.... not least of all resulting in the death of their previous captain. It
was, though, perhaps better he didn't remind Ophelia of that. "You are correct,"
he said in a soft tone. "While I still draw breath I will do whatever is needed
to ensure your continued safety." Shinsuke would only be behind one other person
in that endeavour as Dr Morningstar would be even more attentive.

"Now, I have already set the rosters for my teams and the rest of my work will
take only a short while... If you have the time, would you like to share some
matcha? I feel the need to focus my mind on the task ahead and can think of no
better way than in your holo-tea garden." Their very first meeting had taken
place across a table laden with the green tea particularly favoured by the
Japanese ensign.

Ophelia could not help the smile at Shinsuke's invitation.  "I would be honored
to share tea with you."  She said.  "I will have some time after the ship
launches.  Perhaps we can meet then."  She suggested.

He inclined his head. "That sounds most agreeable," Shinsuke replied. "I
appreciate sharing your time when I know you have many other tasks to perform...
least of all, rest," he added with a rare smile. He'd be watching her for
sure... and making sure said rest was taken in copious amounts. "Until then," he
added, "I will take my leave but once again, my congratulations on your
marriage. I hope it brings you all the happiness you deserve, Ophelia-sama."

"Thank you again Shinsuke.  Your blessings mean everything."  Ophelia said.  "I
must now go prepare for my meeting with the Commander.  I will see you after the
launch."  She added and then bowed respectfully before turning and heading off
to the turbo lift.

Shinsuke watched her leave, a deeply thoughtful look etched across his face. He
knew the time would inevitably come when Ophelia was removed from the active
roster - albeit temporarily... A time he wouldn't relish in the slightest but as
with everything, that negative would have its positive and that took the form of
a new life. Until then, though, he would keep her safe as best he could. *Both*
of them safe. It was his duty... Not as chief of security but as her friend.

With a sharp intake of breath he turned away and headed for his office. There
was, after all, a mission to prepare for.

==

Lt.jg Ophelia Beleran
CNS - USS Southern Cross
Played by Brenda

Ensign Shinsuke Kagawa
CSO USS Southern Cross
played by Fryn

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

MD: 03
Time: 09.50
Place: Joselyn Galyx's quarters

Joselyn Galyx had expected to feel better after going to the Security office and
leaving the PADD with Derrin's incriminating call.  But by the time she was back
in her quarters, she had a headache
that felt worse by the minute.  It was worse than the headaches she sometimes
had during emergencies when she'd been days without sleep.

After taking a pain medication, she ordered a coffee from the replicator and sat
down at her console, finally making the call to her parents.  The conversation
wasn't as long lasting as she anticipated.  Though she and her parents were glad
to see each other, and Joselyn always found their work interesting, she had
trouble concentrating.  The details of the binary star and its plasma jet seemed
to flow into and out of her mind like a fast moving river.  She supposed she was
still upset about Derrin.  The officer on duty had told her that Lt. Cole had
gone to arrest Derrin.
Well, that was what she wanted.  Wasn't it?

Joselyn made an excuse to her parents and ended the call, without telling them
about Derrin.  Those things he had said-- not something she wanted her parents
to know.

She sat, sipping her now cold coffee, wishing the Wolverine would be leaving the
starbase within a few hours.  Though she knew that was impossible.  Yet there
was not enough time for her to leave the base and travel elsewhere.  As usual,
Star Fleet regs and bureaucracy were running her life.  Suddenly, she wondered
if she had made a mistake in not leaving Star Fleet when Jeffri wanted her to.

A moment later she realized that of course she had made a mistake in staying! 
Now that she was stuck here and not flying the ship, which she loved doing, she
could think more clearly.  Or she could, if the headache would stop coming back.

Joselyn needed to tell Jeffri her feelings.  She could write a resignation
letter, send it to the Captain, and head for the nearest passenger liner within
the hour.  No more sitting around, no more orders and regs, just flying those
great little cyber ships on and on.  Grinning, she keyed another outsystem com
line, and then the code for the Taig 5 Cloudscape Resort.  After a few minutes
of waiting while her call transferred, Jeffri's face appeared on her screen,
with a very surprised expression, which quickly turned distant.

"This is unexpected, Joselyn.  I was just packing to leave.  The Consortium is
planning a third resort.  I can't imagine what you think we have to talk about."

She gestured away his words.  "All that is over, Jeffri.  I know that I made a
mistake, and I'm ready to leave Star Fleet.  Now, today.  Where is the new
resort located?  I'm on a starbase now, and I can check for passenger transports
headed any direction.  It will be so good to see you again; and what great
timing, with the new resort.  I can't wait to fly Zsun again! Or will you be
changing the template for the new ships?  I can help with that of course; I did
engineering work on Turpara when we were captured there.  Did I tell you about
that?  Oh, but you knew all about it of course, when we were telepathic." 
Something in his expression curbed her enthusiasm.  Joselyn wondered if she had
been talking too much, too fast.  "I'm sorry, I know this is unexpected.  But
there are so many things I wanted to tell you.  But that can wait, until we get
to wherever it is we are going."

He shook his head. "Joselyn, are you all right?  Has something happened on the
ship, with Star Fleet; some kind of trouble?"

"No, of course not.  We just came to the starbase here for repairs, mundane
mission really, and now it is all waiting around.  I am sick of waiting, and
regulations and all of it.  I need more excitement in my life than this!"

"Joselyn, I'm sorry, but I can't be with someone who is so -- undependable,
changeable.  Maybe it is because you are Joined, not just one mind.  But you
left suddenly, in the middle of the night, with no communication.  Now you
decide your life is not exciting enough and want to come back!
Did you stop to consider how I might feel about that?"

Icy cold crept along Joselyn's spine and neck, her head throbbed.  "You are
saying you don't want me to come with you?  How can that be?  After the time we
spent flying together."

"I have to go now, Joselyn.  Don't you have counselors on your ship?  It might
be a good idea for you to talk to someone."  The screen went dark.

Joselyn sighed, stood, then went across the room to get another coffee.  The
headache was better now.  She thought back over the past few minutes, the things
she had said to Jeffri, the things he had said to her.  She had made another
mistake.  Jeffri was part of her past.  She obviously couldn't go back there. 
The telepathy they shared had been frightening.  Why had she thought, only a
little while ago, that she wanted to be with him again?  Clea.  Yes, she
decided.  Clea was influencing her again.  She couldn't let the symbiont's
previous hosts keep interfering in her life!  No wonder nothing was working out.
She had to get control.

Joselyn went into the bedroom and lay down. She visualized her inner mind, its
layers with the awareness of the other hosts.  She set about building a barrier,
a thick, gleaming titanium barrier, between her thoughts and theirs.  Though it
was only imagery, she knew she was doing something real, internally.  She was
separating herself from them.

~Joselyn, don't do this!~  Jan's inner voice trickled through the last chink of
the barrier before she closed it.  ~You're wrong about Clea.  She hasn't done
anything.  Something else is happening to you.~

His voice stopped as she put the last section of barrier in place.

"So much for that!"  Joselyn said, relieved.

Now, she was free to at last find something she wanted to do, on her own. 
Surely even this small starbase would have something to relieve her boredom.
She'd begin with that.  Going to her closet, she glanced through her civvie
clothes, and frowned.  Why had she bought any of these things?  They looked like
something a grandmotherly admiral might buy.

Her first stop would be to shop for clothes that suited her better! Her-- the
real Joselyn, not Star Fleet Joselyn, or symbiont Joined Joselyn.

Lt. Joselyn Galyx
FCO, USS Wolverine
by Josephine

MD: 03
Time: 0720
Scene: Shuttle Bay
****************

Methos Cain looked at the hanging lianas. Reaching out he grabbed one and
pulled testing the strength. Satisfied he looked around and finding solid by
sharp edge rock he picked it. As he started to cut through lianas to get few
longer ones, his mind drifted. All this was rather simple things he already
trained and practiced many times. He imagined that for some members of the
crew that was new and exciting experience but for him it was actually very
boring. Still his interest in this mission was more of an observer of
others. This was an excellent opportunity to know everyone better, see how
they behave.

"Ensign." He heard T'Ak behind. As he turned around with first liana, he saw
her holding a Y-shape branch. "Will that suffice?"

T'Ak was OPS department crewmember. Young for a Vulcan, recently finished
the Starfleet training, was eager to work and proud to wear her golden
uniform. Cain nodded.
"That should do. Now cut these thinner branches off." Seeing Vulcan female
quizzical look he made breaking gesture. "You can break them if you don't
have your tools. Just leave Y-shape on one end."

"I found these!" Daro Rixx exclaimed appearing from between bushes and
showing two long pole-like sticks. Rixx was a Bolian male and after some
complaining on the shuttle, he was no almost as eager to work as T'Ak.
Methos suspected it was to finish the mission as soon as possible and return
to comfortable quarters of USS Cherokee, unlike for T'Ak, who seemed to
enjoy the mission more and more.

"Perfect." Methos praised and returned to cutting down some more lianas.
"Could you help T'Ak, please."

By the time, he had four lianas, working together Vulcan and Boilan had
trimmed the branch, as Methos want it. He nodded approvingly and tested the
crutch. It was thick and should have no problem in holding weight of a
human.

"Good work. Now we need to finish the stretchers." He pointed at lying on
the ground two wooden poles. With help of both crewmembers, he tried liana
up on one pole and intertwining it, he moved along length from one pole to
another, quickly creating solid mesh that would allow carrying someone
between pole-branches.

T'Ak looked at Methos working with interest at least as much Vulcan was
showing outward any emotions. Methos knew where to look but as he knew T'Ak
more she seemed to be a typical representative of her species, controlling
her emotions, calm and patient.

"Jump in." Methos spoke to Vulcan pointing finished stretchers.

"What?" She blinked at him unsure if he heard him correctly.

"Lie down, we need to test it... Take the crutch." He pointed at lying
nearby improvised crutch. Seeing that T'Ak was still looking at him and not
moving, he winced. "Do I need to give you order for that, T'Ak?" He asked
with slight displease.

It did work and soon they were marching back toward the main camp. Methos
and Rixx carrying T'Ak, with face of someone who was embarrassed by the
situation. Methos wondered for a moment about T'Ak's reaction. Maybe if he
would have some time in the future he will look into it.

"Commander." Methos addressed XO. "I report mission completed."

****************
Ensign Methos Cain
Counselor - USS Cherokee
Played By: Greg

MD: 03
Time: 09.38
Location: Chief of Securities office


It had been a busy morning so far. He had handled two domestic disturbances and
one full on fist fight since he had got into the office. Didn't sound like much
but considering he never got any such calls concerning Wolverine crewmen it was
unheard of. He sat down at his desk and brought up Lt Galyx's message. He
listened to her royally pissed off tones and sighed, not another one.

"Reagan!" He called through his open office door into the security office. When
the man appeared in the doorway Darius looked up from where he had been holding
his head in his hands. "Go to Ensign McCallisters quarters and place him under
arrest would you? Take him to the Brig and I'll come see him there after taking
Lt Galyx statement, ok? Oh, and take Palmer with you. I know you'd normally
handle this kind of thing alone but the way things have been today ....?"

"No problem, Boss." Reagan nodded in complete understanding and left.

Ten minutes later Reagans voice came over Cole's comm badge.

//Chief, could you come down to McCallisters quarters please. He asked to see
you.//

In the background the raised voice of Ensign Derrin McCallister could easily be
heard shouting profanities at the security officers. Cole sighed.

"Come on Reagan, you can handle one irate fly boy can't you?"

"Yes, Chief, but this irate fly boy has a phaser trained on us." Reagans voice
was steady, if a little annoyed that Derrin had got the drop on him.

"Oh." Darius said. "Ok, I'm coming, tell him not to shoot anything until I get
there, ok?"

He signed off and only then realised that he may have just given McCallister
permission to shoot him when he appeared. Shaking his head, he made his way to
the quarters of the offending Ensign. He could hear the disturbance long before
he saw it. Walking up to the open door of Derrin's quarters he stepped inside.
Just inside the doorway stood Reagan and Palmer, both trying to placate the
raging McCallister who was waving his phaser pistol around like a fly swatter.

"Ensign? You wanted to see me?" Darius asked reasonably.

"What did the bitch say about me??" Derrin shouted at Cole. "Whatever it is she
is lieing, ok? She is one lieing bitch who screwed me over and now wants to ruin
my career. It should be her who's getting the brig not ..."

"Ensign, your talking about your immediate superior officer, you do realise
that, yes?" Cole broke in to the tirade. "Thats grounds for insubordination,
which I believe is exactly what she is charging you with. Now put the phaser
down and come quietly and I'll see what I can do to work this out, ok?"

Derrin went quiet as if finally realising the trouble he was in. He rubbed the
back of his neck and closed his eyes, the phaser lowering slowly. He looked like
he had a real bad migraine or something but that certainly wasn't reason to be
threatening security officers with a weapon, but one problem at a time.

"Insubordination?" McCallister asked finally as he placed the weapon on a table
looking a little dazed. "She's bringing charges against me?"

"Yes." Said Darius stepping forward slowly. "But lets get you to the Brig nice
and quiet and we can get this all sorted out. I'm sure its just a
misunderstanding. Lt Galyx is a fine officer and a good person. I'm sure ..."

"Good person!!!" Derrin suddenly looked up and snarled. "She broke my heart and
you think she is a good person!? You bastard!"

Cole ducked Derrins punch quickly and moved under his out thrown arm to grapple
him from behind, holding him secure as the Ensign tried to wriggle free.

"Easy tiger. Lets not rack up anymore charges, hm?" He said to McCallister as
Reagan and Palmer moved in to hold Derrins arms tightly.

"OK, put him in the Brig while I try to get to the bottom of this will you?"
Darius instructed his men who nodded and dragged the Ensign off screaming and
shouting.

If the man had been like this with Galyx then she had every reason to ask for
his arrest, but like any good security officer Cole needed all the facts before
he could make a decision. Of course McCallisters behaviour right here had given
him grounds to bring charges himself if he wanted. However he didn't want to
ruin the young Ensign if he could avoid it. He would hear Galyx out then bring
it to the Captain as procedure dictated. A dull ache began to throb at the base
of his skull and Darius reached behind himself to rub his neck. Great just what
he needed today, a headache. Wincing he decided to run past sickbay later to
have it taken care of, but for now he had a pissed off FCO to see.


LtJg Darius Cole
CSO
USS Wolverine

Played by Garry




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

----------------
MD: 14
Time: 0830
Scene: Skolari Observatory
----------------

"Professor Stanton-Lacy, this project you're working on sounds fascinating,"
said Lieutenant Commander Aldrin.  "But, I think we were under the
impression that the Skolari Research Station was chartered to study the
Vedris Expanse."

The older man's expression lit up, "Ah, but we do just that you see?"  He
gestured at the ceiling, as if to indicate the observatory's control room.
"Our charter defines what we're expected to accomplish here, specifically as
it relates to the astronomic and astrometric study of the expanse and some
previously observed phenomena.  Our budget comes from various sources, and
we're permitted to indulge in other research to attract financing - and
we're permitted to pursue a profit for our work.  This is all very
legitimate," he said with a darker tone.  "Certainly you aren't here to
enforce a charter that you obviously haven't read fully!"

Aldrin's expression sobered. "No, Professor.  I'm simply trying to figure
out how your work relates to the attack and how it might interfere with our
mission, which is to offer aid in response to the attack you've suffered."
He saw that Augustus was retreating from his confrontational flash, and
decided to see if he could take advantage of an opportunity the Professor
had presented to him.  "Professor, is Captain Barilik one of your
investors?"

The Professor straightened, and touched a finger to his temple.  "Jenna's
here," he said.  Then he stood, picked up a robe from the back of a chair
and walked over to the console he'd been so protective of earlier.

Aldrin looked around, and checked the faces of his fellow away team members,
but neither of them seemed to have spotted any sign of a cloaked woman in
the room.

"Let's give her a rest, shall we boys?"  He dragged a fingertip across the
control surface and a loud series of static clicks sounded.  A shadowy form,
the size of a petite woman, materialized in the center of the room.  As the
shadow resolved gradually into a nude woman, the Professor draped the robe
over her shoulders.  "Hello, my dear," Augustus said proudly.

David averted his eyes politely.  He was thoroughly puzzled.

----------------

Lt. Cmdr David Aldrin
XO USS Pegasus
Azeri Fleet
Played by Ed D


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

MD:01
Time: 0830
Scene: First officer's office
-----

The desk was neat and functional, no unnecessary clutter covered the table top,
only a computer console and neatly sorted PADDs, a light source and a collection
of memorabilia that ornamented the outer rim. A few pictures of long time
friends, some metallic objects, that seemed to have more sentimental value than
actual beauty were prominently placed to the left and the right of the console.
A small palm size wooden handle lied to the right and from the looks of the
surface it was being used frequently.

While the desk was rather empty, three walls of the room were covered floor to
ceiling with shelves. An enormous collection of books took the most part of the
space. Some were behind protective covers, some looked like they had been used
too many times and would disintegrate on the slightest touch. Leather backs were
followed by colorful prints on various forms of paper, other sections showcased
ancient animal skin scrolls. Again other shelves were used by computerized
media, from bulky tablets over small holographic projectors to tiny modules,
ready to be inserted into specific terminals.

The number of languages were equally impressive. Obscure human languages shared
space with Klingon, Vulcan and Cardassian volumes, accompanied by Andorian,
Romulan, and other lesser known dialects that only well trained scholars or
native speakers could discern. The collection was a marvel to behold and
legendary among scholars.

Within all this incredible amount of knowledge sat Denzer, behind his neat desk,
entering commands into the computer and studying the requested readouts. It was
a scene of profound opposites, and only few people knew how he had accomplished
to amass this collection, let alone why.

But for now he was not interested in any of his prized objects. He was waiting.


======================
En Route to Deck 2, USS Southern Cross
======================

Ensign Nerali, clad in a freshly laundered uniform with the unmistakable scent
of standard issue anionic surfactant still clinging to her hair - she had yet to
determine what function floral scent additives performed with regards to
chemical cleaning agents; she suspected it might have its history in less
hygienic times during which the scent additives were designed to obfuscate what
offensive body odors remained due to either too-infrequent bathing or incomplete
and inefficient cleaning procedures... but between far advanced surfactants as
well as sonic disinfectant, this was certainly no longer the case - made her way
down the corridor.  She had held her first group training exercise with the
standard flight teams - the precision team, if it could be called such, was a
separate endeavor entirely - and had found the results simultaneously reassuring
and disheartening.  The pilots had demonstrated acceptable proficiency overall
though there had been notable procedural variations for which Nerali could find
no adequate justification; the variations were fairly minor and resulted in only
twenty-five push-ups and a one kilometer run.  She had been more concerned by
the second activity: ongoing vigilance.  With proper maintenance of the flight
craft and adequate research into and detail in flight plans, the vast majority
of flights were uneventful, requiring the on-duty pilot to remain vigilant and
responsive through sheer discipline only.  Her teams had begun engaging in idle
chatter far sooner than she would have liked and had demonstrated a marked
slowdown in rates of response to sudden stimuli once they had.  This had
resulted in an additional fifty push-ups and another three kilometers.  At this
rate, she noted clinically, she would have a competitive 4x400 relay team before
a Rigel Cup team.

She suspected that a good number of her pilots would be visiting Dr. Morningstar
in the next twenty-four hours.  She performed a quick inventory of her own body,
identified the earliest twinges of soreness in her own muscles, and made a
mental note to avoid sickbay if possible, lest her pilots see her there for her
own aches and pains.  She believed it was important for her to run the same
exercises as she expected of her team and this necessarily included running the
same punishments... but she had clearly not accurately anticipated exactly how
much of the latter they would be doing.

She came to a stop in front of Commander Denzer's office and pressed the door
chime to request admittance.

He heard the chime, ignored it for a few moments, finally responded with one
word. "Enter."

The doors hissed open in response to the terse command and Nerali strode in,
falling to attention just short of the commander's desk.  She had indulged in a
quick visual sweep of the room as she entered and found that she would require
additional time in order to assimilate the details therein.  The desk before her
was neat, orderly, clearly a functional tool that, unlike a good number of
humans who spent a great deal of time and effort trying to shoehorn functional
tools into modes of personal expression, was scrupulously maintained as such. 
This, clearly, was the domain of a human who had a solid understanding of
function and a clear delineation between the personal and the professional.  She
had to wonder, then, what precisely the purpose of the library display actually
was.  While she found herself disappointingly and rather uncharitably surprised
that the commander not only had a scholarly side but had chosen for whatever
reason - professional positioning? empty machismo? - to hide it beneath a terse
and inflexible demeanor, she considered it highly unlikely that he would display
books he had not personally read and equally unlikely that he would read books
without fully digesting their contents.  It was reasonable to assume, from what
she had observed of the commander, that he he had indeed read and digested all
of the volumes surrounding him - which, Nerali's quick sweep had clearly
indicated, were not translations; the number of tomes adorned with Vulcan script
alone had caught her biased eye easily.  Quite an impressive accomplishment. 
But in a room clearly designed for function, maintained by a man who clearly had
little use for non-functional entities, in a time and place and level of
technological sophistication which could easily support data and information
recall from myriad sources... what precisely was the purpose, the function, of a
library display?  Fascinating.

"Ensign Nerali, reporting as ordered, sir," she said.

The PADD was just too fascinating or the Ensign's voice too low, he didn't move
for a few additional moments.  It was of course pretence. He knew it and the
Ensign knew it, a little age old condescending game of authority, but too
tempting to let pass. Just long enough to make her feel less important, to
remind her about her place. It would of course take much more effort and much
harder methods to accomplish this but, one never wasted an opportunity like
this. Vulcans, the masters of pretence would know. Trained for generations to
pretend they were without emotions. They had created a whole culture of denial
and suffering. Chastising themselves daily for even the slightest hint of
emotions. They pretended to have none but treated others with condescending
thoughts and arrogance. It was all a matter of definition. One counted these
phenomena simply under logic and the problem was solved, they now were free of
former and full of the latter.

'Ah, Vulcans', he thought. Probably, she was already running thirty-one reasons
through her logical mind about either his intentions, or how emotionally
handicapped he was, or the arrangement of the interior. Of course, all backed up
with numbers to the fifth decimal position. The smile was back, well hidden
inside, but there non-the-less. 'If only you could feel that joy, Ensign.'

In-spite of all the Vulcan smugness, which could bring ones blood to a boiling
point at times, they were one of the most reliable crew members. Meticulous,
punctual and above all, honest. They might not like you, but they would at least
let you know. Within reason, logically.

"Ensign", he remarked finally, putting the PADD down deliberately and giving her
his full attention. "Proceed." This was going to be good and his eyes were
drilling into her with full force.

Traditional power play, human standard, Nerali noted clinically as she waited,
motionless and patient.  In her previous work with and for humans, she had
identified a number of plausible reasons a human, particularly a male one, might
resort to such empty tactics; her last count was thirty-one and unfortunately
Commander Denzer had yet to demonstrate a unique addition.  She suspected this
would change over time - he had demonstrated uniqueness in other areas, after
all; it was reasonable for her to assume even at this early juncture that he
might bring points of interest to this area as well - though she briefly
considered giving him a copy of her current list so he could begin nearer the
bottom.

Nerali handed the commander a PADD containing her report in full.  As per
standard procedures, an electronic copy of the report had already been submitted
to his office as well as filed in her departmental records but she had yet to
serve under a commanding officer who did not want a concrete delivery, however
irrational a desire it was, at the time of the report.  The poorer ones had
allowed her to speak while paying attention only to skimming the presented
report.  The better ones had merely and quite irrationally wanted something in
their hands.  "The report in full, sir," she said by way of explanation,
"discussing the following: goals, scope, findings, and recommendations.  ONE:
Report Goals.  The goal of this report was to develop an understanding of the
flight team of the USS Southern Cross, leveraging all available information
including data only available via personal interview, such that meaningful
conclusions could be made about their abilities and recommendations formed as to
increasing the overall skill and productivity of the team.  TWO: Report Scope. 
All active flight team members are represented within the report.  Information
was gathered over a period of approximately thirty-six hours.  Inputs to the
report include professional record review, analysis of inspections and logs,
individual interviews, individual skill assessments, and group assessments."

She paused briefly to allow him to interrupt if necessary, then continued. 
"THREE: Report Findings.  During our first meeting, Commander, I had applied an
evolving statistical model to the USS Southern Cross flight team and identified
two areas of interest: 1) skill, both in the sense of raw talent as well as
ongoing professional development and training; and 2) the discipline required to
not only nurture and develop that skill over time but also to apply it
successfully withing a professional context.  As we will discuss momentarily,
the findings of the statistical model were sound and were corroborated
independently and individually using the report methodology you suggested. 
However, the results generated by the model were..."  She paused delicately. 
"Incomplete.  Therefore, the report covers two additional areas not identified
by the model which became evident during the course of my subsequent work:  3)
team dynamics; and 4) individual professional and personal growth as related to
service within the flight department.  With regards to Skill and Discipline: 
The team overall has demonstrated a sufficient level of professional skill and,
in a statistically significant number of cases, an inordinate amount of sheer
talent.  However, the team as a whole currently lacks the discipline, both
internal and external, to apply existing skills and talents to improving and
expanding the core skill sets.  My initial assessment, based solely on the
statistical modeling, indicated that this was an 'average' characteristic only
and that, statistically, there would be team members operating with full
motivation and drive outside of any team-level limitations.  However, personal
interviews and group assessments have indicated that this is not actually an
'average' or 'aggregate' group characteristic; in a statistical rarity, this is,
in fact, an actual characteristic of the flight team as a single entity and not
as an aggregate.  I believe this to be a result of area three: Team Dynamics. 
Interviews and assessments, including a very telling group-based assessment,
have indicated that the team is holding itself back; that is, there are internal
factors contributing to a certain stagnation within the team.  For example,
there are several individuals on the team who are known across the team as a
whole to be the absolute best - one possesses the 'maverick' personality type
quite often associated with pilots and in many cases a strong identification of
group belonging while the other possesses more talent than the former but none
of the driving personality characteristics.  Such dichotomies exist throughout
the team.  The end result is a stagnating team in which one party does not feel
it needs improvement and the other party does not feel empowered to insist on
it."  She paused for another moment, eyebrow inching slightly upwards.  It truly
was a fascinating experiment.  "Lastly, sir, the area of individual professional
and personal growth.  The statistical model originally employed did not identify
this as an area of interest nor did I consider it to be relevant as any
individual feeling a stagnation in either personal or professional growth should
address the matter forthright.  However, the interviews performed indicated that
this is not the case; in some extreme cases, the individual is not even able or
willing to identify stagnation, let alone to take the assertive steps necessary
to rectify it.  I had not originally anticipated this as a problem within the
team but I now have several concerns in this area, not the least of which is
ensuring that problems with an individual's ongoing performance are not
misdiagnosed as a lack of skill or a lack of motivation where, in fact, it is
simply a question of personal or professional growth.

"FOUR:  Recommendations.  In priority order, sir, as determined by ease of
implementation versus benefits to be gained.  1) Return a sense of rigorous
discipline to the team.  This includes a large number of subtasks, as detailed
in the full report, such as implementing weekly training sessions - complete
with physical punitive measures for poor performance which support ongoing
development and maintenance of discipline; a physically unfit team, sir, speaks
of a lack of personal discipline which cannot coexist with professional
discipline; and disallowing the laxness that has been allowed recently in terms
of both logs and reports.  This task does not generate a great deal of value
immediately but it is virtually cost-less to implement and will help to create
the stable foundation on which we will be building over time.  2)  Institute a
mechanism by which team members can meaningfully discuss their career
aspirations in the context of career performance.  This mechanism is still under
design at this time, pending a review with Counselor Beleran; I suspect it will
necessarily involve me though I wish to first discuss with the counselor any
undue complications she believes may arise from a Vulcan attempting to play this
role.  3) Reshape the team dynamics.  This is a much more costly task than the
first but I believe the benefits to be highly significant.  There are several
subtasks in this area, also detailed in full in the report, which include
performing group-based trainings as well as developing a potentially
competition-grade precision team.  Both efforts exist to redefine, in a highly
visible and accessible way, what it means to be a successful pilot on this team.
Good cheer, good-natured mischief, inebriation, womanizing; these have been
glorified aspects of the idealized pilot for quite some time within this team
and it has unfortunately helped contribute to the current stagnation, the
current misuse or even disuse of team talents.  By developing a highly visible
set of team activities, I hope to restore emphasis on the true skills of a pilot
and therefore give the team an 'even playing field' from which it can drive its
own continuous improvement."  She paused again.  "It should be noted, sir, that
my plans do not include any mechanisms for removing good cheer, good-natured
mischief, inebriation, or womanizing which occur within Starfleet regulations. 
While these... activities... have no positive bearing on the development of my
team, they do have sufficient value elsewhere that I believing removing them
from the team context entirely would be counterproductive."

She hadn't disappointed him. Long winded, full of backup plans, statistics,
analysis, followed by Vulcan 'logic'. Or should he say common sense, as logic
had often very little to do with it. As helpful as it was at times, it was also
the single most important reason, why Vulcans, in-spite of their capabilities,
never managed to become the driving force in this quadrant. Too driven by detail
they were hindered by it, had succumb to the lure of knowledge, trapped within a
cycle of ever deeper analysis. As the latest example the Ensign, instead of
taking his earlier - admittedly not so subtle - hint, had fallen into this trap
once again.

Pages upon pages about every pilot, protocols of the interviews, analysing their
voice inflections and choice of words to a detail that would have made the
counsellor proud. And for what? The outcome was virtually the same. Lack of
discipline, training requirements and a few added curiosities about the pilot's
sex lives. Old news and mumbojumbo, ready to be filed away and forgotten. What
she had failed to see was the primal reason for this assignment. Not the pilots
were the interesting subject. It had been all about herself, and the silence
from within the report on that subject was deafening.

He had however noted her change of approach, without actually outright admitting
to a mistake. Her model was merely 'incomplete', which meant as much as being
actually accurate, just lacking sufficient data. This was probably as much as
she was ever going to admit. He had seen maturer Vulcans falter miserably under
the same task. There was hope yet.

He broke his stare for a moment and let his eyes run down the shelves on the
opposite side of the room. He stood up, his feet tracing the path his gaze had
taken. When he reached he slowly touched the back of a volume, his fingers
gently tracing the outlines of the alien words engraved into the the ancient
leather.

"Why did you become a pilot, Ensign?"

Nerali - motionless save for the dark eyes which had tracked Denzer as he moved
across the room, appreciated the underlying grace of his movement despite the
bulk being moved, and noted the slight depression of ancient leather under the
pressure of a gentle finger  - blinked.  His abrupt change of subject was
startling - enough so, she noted, that perhaps it wasn't a subject change at all
but rather an extension of a conversation she hadn't known she had been having. 
She found herself therefore uncertain as to what he was precisely asking. 
"Aptitude tests applied in my youth indicated highly-developed spatial reasoning
and sensitivity capabilities; theoretical astrophysics was suggested to me as a
productive career path likely to be successful in the long term.  I found more
pleasure in astrogation - "

He raised the other hand to cut off the flow of words coming out of her mouth.
"So you say you are good at what you are doing?"

She considered that for a moment and determined that it did not provide any more
information as to what he wished to know from her.  She found the context-less
discussion uncomfortable and at a high risk of being without point.  She did not
mention it.  "I did not say that, sir," she said instead.  "I was in the process
of explaining why I became a pilot: Aptitude tests indicated a predisposition
toward a theoretical field.  I found more personal satisfaction in an
applicative field.  Flight is an intersection of the two."

"Irrelevant", he shot back and twisted around quickly to face her square. "Your
personal satisfaction is insignificant compared to the community. Are you
telling me you are wasting your talents in this position, when you should be
working in the astrophysics department? The needs of the many outweigh the needs
of the few! Your choice was selfish and illogical!"

She took a small step backwards, the normally effortless grip she maintained
behind her back faltering slightly as she did so.

He paused. Then smiled. Openly, and the tone of his voice turned much softer.
"Yet, you made your choice. I believe you used the word 'pleasure' to describe
it, as illogical as it may sound, coming from a Vulcan." He walked back to his
chair and sat down. "Your name means 'Freedom', does it not?"

A human's interpretation of pleasure, she told herself, taking another partial
step back.  An understanding limited by experiential color.  And a sharp change
of subject designed to unbalance, to unhinge, to throw into disarray as if some
greater meaning could or should somehow be found within.  And linguistics,
simple linguistics.  Semantics, likely pragmatics, possibly even evolutionary or
historical linguistics.  She redistributed her weight between her feet,
readjusted the hands clasped behind her back.  "To my knowledge, Commander," she
said, lifting her chin slightly, "my name has no meaning in the Vulcan
language."  She refrained from adding 'modern'.

His smile grew wider, his teeth bared, and his eyes full of knowledge. "You
should look it up some day. You might be surprised." He watched her, saw how
uncomfortable she had become, shifting around her weight, twisting her arms
behind her back in a nervous posture. As nervous as a Vulcan would get. He had
her right where he wanted her to be.

"Freedom." he stated broadly. "It is what drives us all. Freedom to explore,
freedom from oppression, freedom from emotions. Freedom to chose. You may think
it a human notion and you would probably be right to a certain degree. We do put
a strong emphasis on it. But it is freedom that unites us and it is universal
within all members of the Federation."

He took a deep breath. "Pilots usually become pilots, because they like what
they do. They enjoy being free, in control of the vessel, feeling the thrill of
riding the void. Unfortunately it happens that their personal drive for freedom
spills over into their professional lives from time to time. It is regrettable
but also unavoidable. Take the freedom away, and the pilot with become useless,
the maverick that was saving your neck yesterday will turn into a puppy
tomorrow." He paused for a moment.

"But of course no freedom is absolute." It was another broad statement. "We are
bound by who we are and by who we surround ourselves with. What makes us tick
has a direct impact on what makes the team tick. And to realize this is
fundamental in becoming a good leader. Otherwise our greatest strengths can
quickly become our biggest shortfalls."  All good things had to come to an end,
this monologue was one of them. It was time to tie the strings together.

"I didn't give this assignment so you could dissect the pilots, find out all
they are doing, then squeeze them into numbers, charts and trends and take away
their freedom. From the beginning this is and has been not about them but all
about you. It is about your freedom of choice as a leader to improve the team.
There are many ways to do it. Some are good, some are better. Some will hurt
them, some may hurt you. Which one did you chose? The one that gives you more
personal satisfaction, or the one that serves the team best?"

He looked deeply at her. "Make everyone else fit your standard, or make yourself
fit theirs. Who is the statistical anomaly here?" His fingers tapped on the PADD
he was reading earlier.

It was a strong question, much bigger than just the Ensign. It engulfed him and
his situation as well. All the experience in the galaxy did not exempt him from
the same scrutiny and the change that came with it. He knew it all too well and
where he fell short of his own expectations. There was much work to be done. But
that was not for now.

Nerali perused him calmly, her weight easily redistributed once again.  "I find
you a dichotomy, Commander," she said.  "You are surrounded with shelves of
knowledge.  You have given me every indication that you have at least
familiarized yourself with their content, if not digested them as fully as time
has permitted.  And yet you appear not to have listened to my findings or, if
you have, to have funneled them through a highly discriminating sieve through
which only those items you wish to see manifest.  Surely such a closed approach
mitigated or at the very least colored the value you have already taken from the
works around you; surely such a closed approach continues to mitigate or color
the value still available to you."  She cocked her head to the side, dark eyes
curious, admitting matter-of-factly, though mostly to herself, "I am unable to
reconcile the dichotomy to my satisfaction."

She continued, "I have several areas of concern, Commander.  The first is
simple:  I have developed an approach which has in every way met your stated
expectations and far more importantly, sir, meets the needs of my team both
personally, professionally, and continuously over time.  If you wish to restate
your expectations, sir, I will re-evaluate them in terms of benefits to the team
and team's role aboard this ship.  If benefits can be found, sir, I will
continue making every effort to improve my team while also appeasing you.  If
there is for some reason a disjunct between my duties to you and my duties to my
team, I will do my best to reconcile the differences and, if unable to do so,
will request your assistance as per regulations.  In short, sir, I am aware of
what my duties are as per Starfleet regulations and will perform them
adequately.

"However, sir."  She paused for a moment.  "I am capable of performing at much
higher levels than mere 'adequacy' and my team as a whole is capable of the
same.  This brings me to the second area of concern.  I have structured an
approach with my team that enforces discipline without compromising
individuality, an approach which integrates the 'nature' of a pilot with his
professional obligations, an approach which, if you wish to speak in gross
generalities, attempts to integrate quite disparate and equally important
characteristics.  An approach which by both necessity and design integrates
myself as fully, perhaps more so, into the equation as the other team members. 
You say 'Make everyone else fit your standard, or make yourself fit theirs' and
such absolutes are dangerous; I cannot be a leader if I capitulate to the
masses, nor can we be a team if I force them into an ill-fitting mold - no
matter, sir, how comfortable I might find such reassuringly unchangeable
constructs.  You say 'this has been not about them but all about me' and that,
sir, is a dangerous fallacy.  I cannot be a leader in anything but name alone
without a team willing to follow; as a leader - as *their* leader, sir - there
is nothing about me that is not also about them."  She observed him for a moment
- the chiseled jaw, the firm posture, the quiet self carriage, the iron
discipline - and found herself suffering from a fleeting flash of irrational
aspiration.  She filed it away for analysis later.

"And sir, as my leader, there is nothing about you that is not also about me. 
If my raw data, the charts, the detailed analysis are for some reason
distracting you from the actual nature of my report, the actual work I have done
and the actual conclusions I have drawn, I will be sure to annotate them
appropriately in the future such that you are more easily able to digest my
meaning without distraction.  If the fact that I am a Vulcan has colored your
perceptions and has rendered you unable to see past the details and into the
actual meaning - or worse, has predisposed you to believing that there is
nothing at all beyond said details - then I find myself disappointed but
unsurprised; it is an easy mistake to make and one that far greater men have
made.  But if you are interested in understanding Nerali of Vulcan, Commander, I
recommend looking past the mere tools she uses."

Defiant until the end. He still smiled. If she were any other species he would
have called her angry, but of course in this case he needed to travel a thousand
years into the past to find a Vulcan who would admit that. How was it that they
had such big ears yet did not listen. "You talk too much and listen too little,
Ensign," he rebutted calmly. "And in all the long winded sentences you have
successfully avoided to answer my question. So I'll rephrase it and give you yet
another chance: Which changes are you going to make to yourself in order to
improve the team?  You are so full of details when it comes to the other team
members, but when it comes to yourself you are talking in generalities. Give me
an example?"

Nerali raised an eyebrow.  The power of empty authority wielded to avoid debate,
discussion; a pity that, she thought, as it could have become quite interesting.
He was a fascinating human.  He quite clearly thought so of himself and she
found him without fault in doing so.  Perhaps in time he would deign to actual
discourse with her instead of relying on simple authority to drive at his own
points rather than to acknowledge hers.  Or, it occurred to her as the eyebrow
notched just a bit higher, perhaps he simply found her points superfluous; that
certainly would explain why he felt no need to acknowledge their validity and to
instead drive the conversation elsewhere.  Fascinating.  She made a note to
revisit his conversational navigation at a later time; if there were a
conversational Rigel Cup, he would no doubt lead her squadron to victory.  "The
first change, sir, is one which has already begun but which will take
considerable time to implement fully: comfortably, casually, and skillfully
applying non-statistical methods and data-gathering procedures to my continuous
improvement plan.  I found that this was both difficult and uncomfortable when
completing the assigned report and while I can recognize the value empirically,
as shown by the report you requested, I still in some ways find it vaguely
unpalatable.  In short, sir: 'I plan on interacting with my pilots as
individuals rather than viewing them as data points.  I am not very good at this
so I will have to work on changing this as well.'"

And there it was. The quintessence of the whole discussion laid bare before
them. It had only taken three times as long as it should have, but who was
counting. He still looked at her for another moment. It was truly remarkable for
her to even utter this last sentence. The hurdles she had to overcome to admit
this point must have been staggering, yet she had chosen to do so. She bore her
name with honour, much more so than she realised.

"Very good, Ensign. You have passed the test." It was a final statement to the
long marathon he had put her through and refrained himself from explaining in
detail what it had been about. It was only a glimpse of what lied ahead of her
but she had taken the first step towards becoming a better leader. Again, most
likely without realising it. But that detail, as so many others was
insignificant. One could perform very well even without knowing why. In time
insight would follow success and open new avenues.

He slightly shook his head. 'A Vulcan full of choices, who would have thought.'
Certainly not she. Obviously she was still not convinced what she was supposed
to be doing was correct, yet even the very reason she was standing in front of
him had been a choice born out of selfish reasoning. She would come around
eventually. In the meantime he would have a discreet talk with a few pilots to
'help' her on her way. After all he couldn't afford the crew in disarray and
bogged down in personality fights.

He stood up and sorted his uniform. "As for your proposal: your changes are
approved.' A lie, or maybe a choice of words. It would never work that way, but
it was for her to figure that out on her own. The pilots would only listen to
one thing: the lure of the void, and no matter of how strict the regiment and
how hard the disciplinary actions, that constant of the universe was not going
to change. He picked up the PADD and handed it to her. "I expect a weekly
progress report," then beckoned her to the door, wondering which progress she
would chose to report on the next time.


======================
Cmdr. Sean Denzer, XO
USS Southern Cross
played by Gerhard

Ensign Nerali
Flight Control Officer
USS Southern Cross
Player: Amanda
=====================

MD: 03
Time: 0705
Scene: Pursuit Team, Planet Training Site

--snip from Marie's post--

He could have at least had the decency to take someone with him.
"Thank you, Crewman," Sarah spoke, immediately making a beeline for
Kal.

--end snip--

Aiden looked up from his tricorder when he heard the captain
approaching.  She was looking particularly unhappy, which couldn't
bode well.  It had to be more than just frustration that they hadn't
gotten a bearing yet on the Commander's team.  They'd barely even been
on the surface for two hours; surely she didn't expect results that
quickly.  Then again, they'd all had to go without a morning coffee,
so there was that working against them, too.

"There's something in the rocks around here that's giving the
tricorders trouble," he reported when she got close enough.  "But
we'll get 'em."

"That's the least of my concerns right now," Sarah responded, her tone
betraying her exasperation at the situation.  "I just found out that
Steins is AWOL.  He apparently gave one of the other officers his
tricorder specifically calibrated to detect Vulcan and Klingon lift
signs.  After that, no one has seen him.  It would seem the man
decided he knew best and decided to head off on his own without so
much as a by your leave."

Jolan Kal had quite an extensive knowledge of Romulan swear words, as
Aiden quickly found out when they came spilling out of his mouth at
this new information.  He reined in control after a moment, though,
and sighed.  "I'll take a team and go get him.  How recognizable do
you want him to be when I drag him back here?"

"What, and let you rake him over the coals for me?" Sarah responded.
"I'll be going with you.  Manturu can lead the group for a while."

Aiden grinned.  "Aye, Captain."  He looked out over the assembled
group and picked out two of his security detail.  "Bernard, T'Pril,
with me!" he called out, waiting while the man and the Vulcan woman
made their way across the clearing.  Once they arrived, he explained,
"Slight hitch in our giddy-up.  We're a man short and need to run him
down."

Sarah quickly walked over to Manturu and filled him in.  She made sure
that he was sure about the direction in which to lead the rest of the
team and then officially put him in charge of leading the pursuit team
towards the base until she, Kal, and the other two security officers
returned.

As soon as he was set, Sarah returned to the search team.  "Let's get
this over with," she commented simply.  She could only hope that it
wouldn't take that long to find Steins.  The longer it took, the more
upset she would become... and the less happy he would be when they
found him.  Figuratively speaking, anyways.

"Right," Aiden replied.  "I think we can assume he headed in the
general direction of the other team, so I suggest we start that way.
Fan out so we can cover more ground, as long as everyone stays in
sight."

"Agreed," Sarah replied.  "He has about a two hour lead on us, so
we'll need to set as brisk a pace as the terrain will allow."

"Just be sure to watch your step.  There could be sinkholes or ravines
that you won't see until you're right on top of them.  Bernard, take
the left flank.  I'll take the right."  Aiden waited for the other man
to nod his understanding before heading for the edge of the clearing
and back into the forest.  Once inside, he began working his way out
from the center point to about sixty meters.

Sarah and T'Pril quickly took their positions in the search formation
and started moving forward as soon as everyone was ready.

---
Time: 1730

Sarah called for the search team to stop.  The group had been tracking
Steins for hours, stopping only long enough to deal with necessities
such as food.  Her latest find, however, gave her confidence that they
were on the right track.  "I have tracks," she called out.  "Standard
issue and not that old.  They head in that direction," she stated,
indicating a path slightly to the right of where they'd been heading.

Aiden motioned to the other two to tighten up on the captain's
position, and the four of them followed the tracks, broken twigs, and
bent branches.  "It's like he was *trying* to let them know we're
coming," he muttered at the disarray.

"I wouldn't put it past him, but we'll just have to find him to know
for certain, I suppose," Sarah sighed.  "Let's hope we find him before
he gives away our presence to the other team."

Aiden started to answer, but froze when he heard a crack that hadn't
been made by any of them.  He held a finger to his lips, and then
motioned for Bernard and T'Pril to take flanking positions.  He and
the captain continued forward toward the source of the sound.

Taking special care not to make a sound, Sarah crept forward.  Within
a few moments, she was able to make out the form of a man moving
through the trees a few meters ahead.  If he outline was anything to
gauge by, it was their missing officer.  Not wanting to risk being
heard, she motioned to Kal to circle around.  She'd prefer to spring
this trap without making it easier for Steins to slip away.

Slipping away into the brush, Aiden sprinted ahead, keeping his
footfalls light as he darted around trees and jumped fallen logs.
More thanks to Jolan for the muscle memory there.  In a matter of
minutes, he'd made it well past Steins and could make out his shape
trouncing through the woods toward him, if not *intentionally* making
noise then at least making no effort to disguise his passing.

Sarah waited until Kal and the other two security officers had taken
up position around Steins before motioning that they should all move
in.  Within moments, they had completely surrounded Steins, forcing
him to stop.  "You seem to be more than a little lost, Ensign," Sarah
spoke from behind him, intentionally allowing her voice to convey her
displeasure and a hint of her anger.

Before the man could make the choice of stopping or running, Kal and
the others stepped into view, closing the other three sides of the
trap.  "If nothing else, though, it was a good practice run for
snaring the other team," he said with a shrug.

Sarah glared briefly in Kal's direction before turning her attention
back to Steins.  "What do you have to say for yourself?"

---

Lieutenant (jg) Aiden Kal
Chief of Security
USS Cherokee
Played by Roger

&

Captain Sarah Michaels
Commanding Officer
USS Cherokee
Played By: Marie

--------------------------------------------------------------
MD:  18
Time:  0608
Scene:  Room in the Temple of the Sun, Velanio
--------------------------------------------------------------

Raith tossed and turned all night long.  The bed was comfortable and he was warm
enough to be sure; but he just couldn't seem to get his mind to shut down.   It
was like he was wired and his body kept fidgeting beneath the covers and he just
couldn't be still.  Even his heart rate seemed to be jumping a bit more than
normal.  And was that sweat?  It was times like this when Raith wished he had
the medical kit – though Ashcroft said it wouldn't open for him – and yet he was
very glad he did not.  The doctor in him recognized the symptoms of withdrawal
from two weeks of tranquilizer abuse and it didn't help that he was alone; that
he had in fact spent the whole night alone.  Damn Eshir!   Damn Soluk!  Damn—

Yanking the pillow out from under his head, Raith pressed it against his face. 
He experienced a fleeting temptation to smother himself, but knew even that was
pointless.  He might as well get up.  With that decision made, the doctor threw
off the covers and tossed the pillow at the end of the bed.  He got up on shaky
legs and stumbled over to the pitcher and basin.  The water was likely to be
cold, but maybe that would help.  With that thought in mind he lit the lit the
lantern and filled the bowl.

As the water stilled the doctor caught his reflection.  He looked terrible and
that wasn't going to do him any good when it came to convincing Eshir that he
was feeling better and able to join in the ceremony.  With a groan, Raith
splashed his face liberally with the cold water and then dried it with a towel. 
The shock helped to wake him a bit, but did nothing for the way he looked.

"So... do something about it."  He was a doctor and he understood the way his
body functioned and the reasoning behind the dark circles beneath his eyes and
the redness to the whites as well as the pale almost gray tinge to his skin. 
What's more he knew how to erase all of that; though there wasn't much he could
do regarding the tremors and in spite of looking fresh and ready to take on the
world, his actual mind was not going to be there.  Of course, all he had to do
was convince Eshir...

The doctor let the water in the bowl still once more and then carefully began to
work...

----------------------
Time:  0811
----------------------

After a couple of hours, Ryn-Shi – aka Dr Ceryn Raith – looked better.  To the
eyes he was well rested and alert, but beneath all the false advertisement of
physical appearance he was still exhausted.  It would last for as long as he
made it, but the way he looked was governed by his body's physiological
responses to how he felt and what was going on inside him – just as it was for
others without his ability – and it was going to be an ongoing battle to keep
his body from responding to the facts.  In other words, lying to others was much
easier than lying to self.

There was a knock on the door behind him, soft and subtle, like someone was
checking to see if he was awake but not wanting to wake him if he wasn't.  Raith
took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he moved to sit on the edge of the
bed.  "Come in."

Eshir entered as beckoned, a guardian carrying a tray behind the Shimaun.  Raith
didn't recognize this one and wondered how and where Ashcroft and Parker both
were.

"You look much improved this morning."  Eshir smiled.  "I was greatly tempted to
offer herranra to you last night because I knew it would ease your sleep; but
your level of experience or rather lack thereof made that an unwise decision.  I
felt it was better to leave you to your sleep and I see that my choice was well
warranted."

It occurred to Raith at that moment that everything spoken was being picked up
by the observation outpost.  He wondered if they knew just what `herranra' was
or if the term was being scribbled down by an eager pack of scientists like a
miner with a discovery of gold dust.  "Thank you, Eshir.  I do feel better." 
Lie... you lie like a rug...

Eshir's brow furrowed.  "Did you dream further?"

Damn.  Raith forced a smile to his lips.  "Some, yes... but as you can see, not
to any ill effect."  He watched with obvious interest as the tray was set down
on a table in the corner of the room.  One thing was for certain – tired he
might be, but ill no longer.  Whatever had affected his digestive system had
cleared out leaving him hungry.

"Your stomach speaks much louder than anything you could say, Ryn."  Eshir
motioned toward the table with an amused expression.  "Let's break our evening's
fast and we'll discuss the day ahead.  Quite obviously you are more than ready
to do your part in this evening's ceremony."

Raith nodded, joining the elder Shimaun at the table.  Fresh bread and some form
of pastry along with a bowl of what looked a bit like oatmeal or porridge
greeted him.  Steam rose from a mug nearby and the doctor was relieved to see
the tea.  The last thing he wanted to do was explain why he couldn't drink the
water... or rather, wouldn't.

"Eat, drink, and be filled.   The day is young, Ryn, and we have much to do." 
Eshir declared while dropping a cloth napkin on one knee and raising a crude
looking spork.

The doctor dropped a cloth napkin on his own lap and reached for the utensil
beside his bowl, his hand pausing mid action as he stared down at its steady
composure and suddenly realized his heart rate had also slowed.   His eyes shot
to the Shimaun across the table from him.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no... everything's all right."  Raith responded as he quickly picked up the
spork and dug into the porridge.  Inside his mind he was beginning to seriously
wonder about the elder Shimaun's effect on him.  How could Eshir exert so much
control over Raith's physical responses?  Was it even wise for Raith to attempt
to reciprocate – get further into the Shimaun's mind and possibly see what lie
beneath the surface?  If he were asked who the stronger telepath were, the
doctor would definitely have to concede to Eshir; but maybe the day ahead would
present some sort of opportunity.  He'd just have to make sure he was paying
close attention...

=*=

Ensign Ceryn Raith
CMO - USS Endurance
Written by: Cyd