USS Caledonia And StarBase BoB Season 8 Episode 5 Little Shock

USS Caledonia
And
StarBase BoB
Season 8
Episode 5
Little Shock of Horrors
Purity
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
"Captain, it's really getting a little too much. We've been inundated with complaints recently, and
Admiral Brennan has asked me to do something about it. As a Starfleet Commanding Officer, you're
supposed to be an ambassador for the fleet. Starbase Bee-Oh-Bee is an outpost that should provide a
welcome to travellers..."
Mulder blanked out the monotone from the pasty-faced Lieutenant on the comm-screen. She knew
when the call came through - from the Office of Public Relations, SFHQ San Francisco - that it wouldn't
be to announce they had won a prize in the fleet raffle. And she had been right.
"I know, I know..." she waved a hand irritably. "But if you *knew* the problems that we get out here,
even from the most apparently innocuous events..."
"Yes, Captain, I do know. But there has to be a balance," the Lieutenant sighed. "The owner of the
freighter that just wanted to offload a few kittens, for goodness sakes..."
"They'd mutate into killer cats," Mulder said firmly.
"And the organisers of this years Miss Galaxy contest, swimwear section..."
"Bad for morale," Mulder said obstinately.
"And...have there been any unusual spatial anomalies recently..?"
"No," Mulder lied glibly. "And if there were, we'd investigate."
The Lieutenant gave her a very suspicious look, then continued with the litany of complaints. "The
Annual Soothsayers Conference you turned down flat.."
"Ha, they didn't see *that* coming or they wouldn't have wasted time asking in the first place. Frauds,
the lot of them."
The Lieutenant rolled his eyes, "And you were positively *rude* to the team from Intergalactic Extreme
Makeover.."
"I didn't realise they were talking about the starbase itself. I thought it was a slur on the appearance of
my crew.." Mulder admitted a tad sheepishly.
"Captain, I understand," the Lieutenant lowered his voice. "Really, I do. Personally I'd rather face
unarmed combat with a cuckolded Klingon with haemorrhoids than be posted to your station. I know
just how dangerous it is out there. But Admiral Brennan is very demanding sometimes, and when
complaints roll in like this, then unless I sort it out, it's *me* that gets it in the neck. All I need is some
assurance from you that you'll - "
Mulder was about to point out that she couldn't be blamed for the fact that *he* worked for a cranky
old fart, but at that moment another call came through, a call showing the insignia of the Jaz'Aarian
Patriarch. "Excuse me," she cut him off. "Can you hold. I have an *extremely* urgent comm waiting for
me. Back in a minute." With sinking heart, she activated the call.
This time, the face of the Aide to the Patrician appeared looking somewhat more harried than their last
conversation a few weeks ago. "Captain Mulder, I have to inform you that your Hearing for Treachery
in the case of revealing Jaz'Aarian technology will have to be postponed. The Patrician has been taken
ill, and we must return to Jaz'Aarian immediately."
"Oh." Mulder knew that this incredibly serious. Jaz'Aarians enjoyed good health, extremely good
health, and if it was something that the top-class medical team on her uncle's ship couldn't sort, then it
was looking very dire indeed. "Please convey my best wishes for a speedy recovery," she said stiffly.
"This does not exonerate you, captain. The hearing has been officially postponed, but will re-convene
at His Excellencies pleasure. Which will be as soon as he is well enough to travel again."
"Of course," Mulder bowed hr head gravely. The call was cut off with no further information.
That was bad news for the Patrician, of course.. but good news for her. A reprieve, at least. And as she
was fond of saying, "sufficient unto the day". The news lifted her spirits a little so that when she
switched back to the call from SFHQ she was almost smiling. At least, not frowning quite so much.
"You were saying...?"
The Lieutenant, who due to the nature of his job could sense the mood of his superiors very accurately,
said eagerly, "Just take on a few goodwill gestures. Be a little less intransigent. It'll get the Admiral of
*my* back and yours as well."
At that moment there came a crash from the office behind him, followed by a bellow, "Dammit,
Beaumont, my goddamned coffee is cold again."
Lieutenant Beaumont looked at her with resignation, and a 'you see what I have to put up with' shrug.
"Alright," Mulder sighed. "I'll see what's come in today."
"Actually, there *is* one small thing.." Beaumont flicked a switch to display a document. "If you could
just humour us on this. They'd like to stop by - well, any station, really - and they're in your area. They
won't be any trouble.."
Mulder read the details. "Hm. Well... I know it *sounds* innocent enough, but this is BoB..."
The Lieutenant looked over his shoulder and winced at the sound of another crash.
"I suppose..." Mulder acquiesced, feeling a tad sorry for him.
"Thank you, Captain," Beaumont brightened up. "I'll tell the Admiral you'll let them dock and treat you
all. After all, a freebie is a freebie. It might seem a little silly, but it's something pleasant, at least."
"Alright. Now go before I change my mind," Mulder waved the comm shut. As the screen blanked, she
laughed quietly to herself. "He's probably right. I'm way too paranoid. And this is such a small thing.
What's the worst that can happen?"
A sentence that probably holds place up there along with 'What can possibly go wrong?' and 'This will
be the best Christmas that Walford has ever had'. But then, hindsight is a wonderful thing...
=/\= SB BoB Counselling =/\=
"I'm telling yer, Trace, was Archangel, there in the flesh, on Dharmas doorstep," Avril twittered into the
communcication cell as she swiveled on her chair, checking the counsellors' messages.
"If I wasn't playing nanny to Suraj for the moment, I would have tripped over my tongue, honestly,"
said the counselling yeoperson as she tapped at an urgent referral. "THE Archangel, and she aint gotta
clue."
Having despatched Suraj at school, Counsellor Dharma ambled in. Looking somewhat worse for wear.
Her head hurt, and her eyes were sore. All she could smell was sea-salt.
"Dating, and Dharma? I know they went out," giggled Avril. "I know that she didn't come home early as
I left at two. You do the maths. This is Dharma, her and dating are a weird concept. I'll try, she's bound
to let something slip, this is Arihana Dharma, won't be her knicker elastic..."
Squinting as she came across the counselling yeoperson at her desk, Arihana gave that irritated
expression of what on earth did Avril think she was doing? "You all right, Avril," Arihana asked as she
turned to brew up a very strong tea in the foyer.
"I'll call you back, Trace," Avril hurridly disconnected, and pretended to look busy.
"If you ask me no questions, you'll get no lies," said the counsellor, stirring in sugar to her tea. "I do
have a job for you though," she continued.
"Yeah?" Asked Avril relatively non-plussed.
"Google him" said Arihana.
"Who, sorry?" the counselling yeoperson asked with a smirk.
"You know who, Avril. Boston Zaire. Archangel," Dharma answered as she came over and pulled up a
futon to sit across from Avril. "You know you want to," she said, slurping her tea.
Avril grinned, and cracked her knuckles. If a job was worth doing, it was worth doing well! Off she
went, her fingers whizzing as though they were double jointed across the keys. This was actually part
of her job, she was regularly asked to go find information and data. It was that voyeur part of her
personality, and it helped keep her sane.
Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates as various entries and tit-bits of information were found and
pounced on.
"ARCHANGEL,"she read, "Sell-out concerts, screaming fans, songs at top of charts frequently. Listen to
this 'No matter what color his hair is, girls, silver, gold, bronze or purple, you can't beat those classical
features and sexy black eyes. The body isn't bad either. Thank goodness for tight fitting pants,' says
some woman names Yvonne Moore from Star Magazine.," Avril was agog as she looked at the
counsellor. "You crazy woman, you're about to cop off with every hot blooded womans fantasy," she
stated obliquely.
Arihana nearly choked and sat up, "Don't be stupid. No copping off anything time soon," she said
wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Please continue," Arihana exhaled to continue sipping
her tea.
There was a roll of the eyes from Avril, who itched the back of her hair line and cross referenced a
tabloid with a glossy magazine."Career started in sleezy nightclubs and cheap beer joints, singing and
playing with two band members," she said squinting to type information into a timeline that was being
generated. "Did a performance in New York, a charity gig."
"Boy got heart," said Arihana momentarily.
"that got the attention of the big boys in the business," Avril continued "and it was all up from there,"
she arched her brows, somewhat overwhelmed."
Arihana was still underwhelmed, reaching forwards, she picked up a padd and wafted Avril down in
case she overheated.
"Now has a band of four," Avril was cross referencing still. "Plays the piano, sings, writes many of his
own songs but not all of them by any means. Phew," she sat back and blew her cheeks out. "Makes
rear admiral look..."she tipped her head side to side, "ordinary, and swoonage over The Vaughan, like a
bad game of charades. This dude is tall, dark and brooding."
Arihana nodded "I can do tall, dark and brooding. Take Dodgy Dhil. Nicholas was a pretty dirty blonde
with blue eyes. I'm a creature of habit. What's the latest?"
"Latest news," Avril resumed her search, pouting in concentration, "said to be vacationing at an
unknown destination. Well, BoB, but they don't know that."
"Hmm," Arihana frowned, and pulled a popeye face. "Perhaps he'd appreciate it if we kept it that way.
If any random pleb from the SS&U turns up..."
"We know nah-thing, understood," nodded Avril, before rabbiting on. "In this age of recreational drugs
and good times, says the Forbes magazine editorial, this popular rock star is more businessman than
star."
Again Arihana pulled faces, "Might not want to tell him about me own junkie past then," she said with
a tut.
"He invests his money, funds a private college of the arts and tells me he never touches drugs. I
understand the worst thing he touches is a pina colada with an umbrella."Avril looked up with an
arched brow, hoping to hear about the late night.
"That's true," nodded Arihana.
"When asked why he's so silent about his past, he says, 'It's called one's private life and that's how I
like it. I'll answer anything about my music, my performances and my charities, but my private life is
just that - private." Avril pulled a face of grimace, "Spoil sport."
"Is he, was he, about to be attached?" slurped Arihana.
"No current love interests, it says here," returned Avril. "Archangel simply says "No comment." In the
past he's been seen with many a famous beauty on his arm. Name has been linked briefly to a cinema
star, Glen Ellyn, and rock star Fringe. He found them boring and actually said so," giggled Avril "You got
half a chance then," she sai with a wink.
"Go whistle," hissed Arihana. "Go on."
"Likes his privacy. Has repeatedly turned down interviews," Avril was still diggin, one hand twirling her
hair. "Will occasionally answer a question or two if approached. Will find a few interviews regarding
causes he has taken under his wing, but he never answers personal questions."
"I'm not going to tap him for therapy," Arihana went to refil her mug of tea.
" Because he's normal, or you want to break into his underpants?" Asked Avril bluntly. "There's bits
and pieces about him, the timeline is fairly straight forwards. Thing is, his work history only begins with
the band's start and a dish-washing job in a restaurant."
"Really?" Arihana was intrigued now as she dahed milk into the mug. "As though he didn't exist
before."
"He's a bit interesting." Smirked Avril.
"Aint he just, thanks for that," smiled the counsellor as she departed to her office.
=/\= Rented Guest Quarters - Starbase BoB =/\=
Chess stretched out a sleepy arm across the side of the bed, only opening her eyes when her hand hit
the pillow. Yawning, she could see Stefan's side of the bed was empty, and she checked the time. They
hadn't been asleep *that* long.
Sitting up, she could hear the sound of muted voices coming from the living area and for a moment she
imagined he had simply ordered delivery of supper. Then she realised that even desultory chat with a
delivery boy wouldn't take as long as that.
Slipping her arms into one of Stefan's shirts as a cover-up, she fastened a few buttons for modesty and
silently padded over to the doorway.
In the darkened room, Stefan sat with his back to her, talking to the commconsole screen. "Yeah, any
day now." An inaudible reply. "I don't know. I just..don't know." Another quiet, questioning comment
then, "I need to think about it."
Chess must have moved, because Stefan's back stiffened. "I'll speak to you again soon. Got to go." And
he snapped off the comm, spinning round on the chair to face her.
For a heartbeat neither of them spoke, the very silence itself telling volumes. Chess broke it, as she
knew she must. "Fiona?"
"Yeh."
"I didn't realise you were back in touch with her," Chess advanced slowly into the room.
"I - We talk sometimes."
"She wants to get back with you?" the questions were dispassionate, as if someone else was saying
them.
"Maybe. I don't know. It's complicated."
There was a flicker of annoyance on Chess's face. "Please, Stefan, I think we've known each other long
enough to dispense with banalities. When someone says it's complicated, what they really mean is, 'I
wish you hadn't asked that'."
Stefan looked at her searchingly, confusion and regret in his blue eyes as he ran a tired hand over his
tousled hair. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. Francesca Myers had haunted him for
years, his thoughts never straying far from the enigmatic, distant woman who had bewitched him
during that short mission together seven years ago and their brief passionate interlude. Even after
she'd made it clear that she wanted nothing more from him, she'd never quite left his thoughts.
Then Fiona had arrived in his life on board the USS Enforcer, his new Deputy Chief of Security, and he'd
found himself drawn to the dark-haired, dark-eyed pert faced young woman with the biting sense of
humour. When they became an item she'd had to transfer off so as not to be in his chain of command
any more and with a glowing recommendation from Captain Cadwallader had been appointed to the
new vacancy of Security Chief on board the USS Claymore.
At first they'd weathered the separation just fine, but then Chess Myers had been posted to the
Caledonia as it's new CO a few years ago and he had met up with her again, knowing from the very first
moment that the magnetism was still there. It had taken a while, and his relationship with Fiona had
waned; due to increasing emotional distance on both their parts.
But if he was honest with himself, would he have fought harder for Fiona if Chess hadn't been in his
life? He couldn't answer that. And now, just when he had everything he thought he ever wanted, now
Chess was his willing partner, he'd started getting calls from Fiona. And he was torn. Chess still
enchanted him but she never gave him the psychological intimacy he craved. The physical intimacy was
everything he dreamed of, but there was always the feeling on emotional distance between them.
Something he'd never lacked with Fiona.
"I see." Chess replied to the unspoken answer. "I think I'll go now."
He opened his mouth to stop her, then closed it again. He didn't even know what he *wanted* to say.
Reaching his hand into the drawer of the desk he fished out a crumpled packet of Marlborough and lit
up, inhaling deeply.
Five minutes later Chess walked back into the room, fully dressed and carrying the bag with her
personal belongings. It had become a tradition between them now, ever since Christmas. He would
rent a small guest suite when the Enforcer docked so he could enjoy a private life away from his
crewmates.
"Where are you going?" the question sounded lame to his own ears.
"Back to my ship. We're due to be setting out again soon. I have things I need to catch up on there,"
she said tersely, blankly.
"Chess.." now he moved, across the room to hold her. "Chess, I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell I
want, and it's not fair to mess you around like this. You know how I feel about you.."
"Do I?"
"Dammit, Chess. I love you. I've told you that..." he waited, as he always did, for her to return the
sentiment. But like always, she never did. Just looked at him with those unfathomable eyes.
"Maybe," she said quietly. "Stefan, I have to go."
"Will I see you again before you go?"
"I don't think so."
"I'll try and get myself sorted out for the next time we're both back here. I promise."
She just flashed a quick half-smile and walked past him without another word.
Alone, he picked up the cigarette from the ashtray and stubbed it out, viciously. What the *hell* did he
want? Why the *hell* had he just trashed the one relationship he'd fought harder to get than any
other in his life?
He buried his head in his hands with a muffled groan.
*****
Chess walked swiftly and smartly along the corridor, only pausing when her commbadge chirped.
"Yes?"
"Captain?" it was Dennis Erendin, temporarily manning the bridge. "There's a call come through from
Admiral Chris Bishops. He says he needs to speak to you on a private channel."
"I'll be here in ten minutes, Crewman. Tell the Admiral's office I'll call him back directly."
"Aye, Ma'am."
If it was Bishops, then it must be news about the Caledonia's next mission - he'd hinted as much in the
relayed message from Kita Mol, that something was in the offing.
It couldn't have come at a better time. If ever she needed a distraction, now was that time.
****
Her cut wasn't as practised or precise as Bree's, and there was a moment's slight snagging, but she was
only a few seconds behind his time and the tube did, to her satisfaction, slip properly into the cut.
"Not bad." Bree almost sounded impressed, "If that was a real patient they might even survive. Don't
worry too much about being gentle with inserting the tube. You've already cut them open after all."
"Now can I practise on a live patient?" she looked almost animated - for her. She looked around at the
unwilling audience and fixed them with a beady eye. "There must be *someone* having trouble
breathing here.."
"One or two of them may be having a panic attack at the idea of you walking around here with the
scalpel but that's hardly reason for a tracheotomy. You're going to have to save your slicing skills for an
emergency, or the holodeck."
"Emergencies happen more often than not, around here," Angel gave a sly smile. "So what *can* I do
that's proper doctoring?"
Bree pondered, "Mrs Johansen..." He pointed to a petite lady sat up in one of the far cots, "Needs
some deep dermal regeneration and a check on how her broken arm has healed. She bounced off a
few bulkheads on BoB when things got a little hairy before." He folded his arms, "Mundane, thankless
work, but good experience for the basics."
Angel considered that. A lot of marine exercises could be said to be mundane and thankless, but all
practice at everything might come in useful some day. "I'll do it," she said with surprisingly little
resistance. "But there is a condition attached.."
"Oh really? I am surprised." sighed Bree in a not so subtle allusion to circumstances behind Angel being
here.
"I want my voluntary assistance here recorded by you on my personnel file," Angel said smugly. "Along
with all the skills I've now learned. That will help towards getting my next promotion a lot quicker. But I
don't want you to exaggerate my skills so people think I can do stuff thank I can't, because if I messed it
up and someone died then it'd *ruin* my promotion chances, and the loss of me as a senior NCO
would be a tragic loss for the Nomads."
Bree considered that for a moment, in particular how liable he would be as the trainer, "That does
have tragic written all over it. Okay..." He nodded, mainly to himself, "I'll note down what area's you
have achieved some level of competence in. There'll be little in the way of exaggeration, I promise."
"So you want dermal regeneration done?" Angel looked around. "Any tips? I know which end is which,
in case you were wondering. But I'd rather do it a doctor-ish way than a guesswork way."
"Well it depends on the complexity of the injury. If the wound is deep, or irregular in some manner
than running the thing back and forth won't do a great deal of good." Bree started to pack up some of
the equipment that had been scattered around the doll. "You might end up healing the surface flesh
wound but leave damage underneath that the regenerator didn't reach. You always need to have a
clear idea of the extent of the injury so you can treat it in the correct order. There's no point
regenerating the surface tissue if you're going to have to cut through it to deal with a sub-dermal
problem later."
"Okay." Angel picked up the tricorder - not so different from her scanning equipment when on recon
exercises, and switched it on over Mrs Johansen's arm, waiting until it had gathered sufficient
information to show a diagnosis. "I can spot the enemy fracture, hairline creeping along the second
quadrant of bone. The main advance was halted but I think you've got secondary infiltration coming in
under the radar. Possibly you didn't take out all the enemy breaks at the first attempt, or maybe there
was a local re-surgence. Hard to tell, but if you get in quick and ambush them here..." she tapped the
screen, with it's real-time x-ray schematic of Mrs Johansen's arm, "..then you should wipe them out
completely."
Bree wrinkled his face up. It was hard not to be impressed. Metaphor aside Angel seemed to be on the
right track. "Interesting." Bree didn't confirm the diagnosis at this point, "And, if there is a..local resurgence, what would you recommend doing?"
"Normally I'd get a sniper to handle to direct targeting but I'm a fair enough shot to be able to take it
out myself. With a phaser rifle, that is," Angel's mixed metaphors suddenly confused her. "I mean, I've
got a good aim so if you want me to heal the last traces of the break I'm sure I can be accurate. Do you
use a dermal regenerator for that too?" She suddenly remembered something that answered her own
question. "No, it's an osteo-regenerator that does that, isn't it?" She gave a triumphant smirk. "Do you
have one that works around here?"
"It depends on how broad your definition of works is, but we do have one that can do the job without
creating too much smoke." Bree rummaged around the bio bed's storage and produced a rather
disappointing looking piece of equipment. He passed it over to Angel, "Unlike the tracheotomy speed is
not key here."
Mrs. Johansen chose that moment to pipe up, "Speed's not an issue? So I can remain here a little while
longer? I think a little more time would be gre..."
"No." Bree rubbed at the back of his neck, "Once my assistant here has completed the procedure you
will be leaving. I would have turfed you out already but for the moment you are marginally more useful
than that doll over there."
Angel snickered quietly to herself. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard a doctor be quite so... honest...
with his patients before, but couldn't find fault in his attitude. If the woman was malingering, then she
needed to be told and dealt with, that was that. She waved the osteo-regenerator in front of Mrs
Johasen's face. "Soon have you out of here," she said, which elicited a nervous squeak.
Bree scowled at Mrs Johansen, "Please proceed, Frost."
"With pleasure, Doctor." Angel switched on the regenerator to link it to the readout on the tricorder,
and she could see the tip of it as a small green pinprick dot. Moving it into position so that the dot was
aligned over the beginning of the hairline break, she then switched it on to full, and the bone started
re-ossifying under her touch.
With her tongue clamped between her teeth, Angel concentrated completely as if she was following an
enemy formation moving at night. She carefully slid the regenerator along the break, checking at each
movement that no trace of the enemy trail remained behind.
Peering over Angel's shoulder Bree added, "Don't be afraid to go over a break a few times. A bit too
much bone growth is better than too little."
"Okay." She re-position the instrument and paid special attention to where the break ended,
thickening the growth so that nothing would creep through. Then another pass at the start of the
break to solidify it, with a few more sweeps in the general direction.
"That should do." nodded Bree, "Finish up with the dermal regenerator."
"I'm rather good at this," Angel announced. "Dermal regenerator. Right." She swapped instruments,
feeling a little more confident with this one as it was something they'd all had a turn at during basic
training. And Angel never forgot anything she learned, in case it came in useful to her later. Useful to
her own personal aspects, of course.
"Is this a case for slow sub-dermal healing first or should I just clear the surface?" she asked. "This
tricorder seems to be flickering and I can't get a proper reading." She was tempted to thump it, but by
the looks of it that would completely shatter it.
“Safer to go slow when the equipment is playing up. Don’t want to accidentally give Mrs. Johansen a
real reason to prolong her stay.” Bree kept his glare firmly on the patient.
"Right, will do," Angel was almost breezy, as she was being successful. There was nothing like being
successful at something to put her in a good mood. She made short work of the task, feeling a lot more
adept now.
The Doctor carefully examined the site of the former wound. “More than adequate for a first attempt.”
One patient treated and ready to go and he hadn’t even lifted a finger.
"That's my hour up, Doctor," Angel placed the dermal regenerator down firmly. "I shall be back
tomorrow. Would you like me to walk Mrs Johansen to the door on my way out, just to make sure she
doesn't try and sneak back in?" Angel wouldn't put anything past these work-shy civilians.
There was almost a grin from Bree , “Another job you seem qualified for. I’ll leave the discharge of Mrs
Johansen in your capable hands.” He wandered off to office and left the patient at Angel’s mercy.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Sickbay =/\=
Angel kept the white coat the next day, feeling like a seasoned pro now. She marched into sickbay and
demanded, "I hope I can do some interesting stuff today."
In a knee jerk reaction Bree sedated the patient infront of him, "Interesting? I guess Juan's stories
weren't enough to keep you entertained. What do you want to do?"
"Whatever's going. Ideally stuff that will be relevant to me in my very dangerous line of work," she
smirked. "I think you know a bit about that, don't you Doctor? I hear you went out with some of our
Nomads during the mirror universe days.." she'd heard quite a lot about it, in fact, and the smug look
on her face said so in spades.
Bree looked back down at the patient infront of him and busied himself with checking a few readings,
"I know a bit about the heady rush of adrenaline, danger and pointless bravado that goes with such
things. I don't get the privilege of getting shot at all that often though..." He straightened up and
scowled, "So is there anything in particular you want to know about?"
"I want to know how to deal with phaser burns, or people being impaled on sharp objects, or how to
amputate limbs.." she looked around sickbay to see if there were any potential targets. The intense
scrutiny of the various patients seemed to indicate that she'd be ready to experiment whether they
needed anything cutting off or not.
"Some of that might be a bit beyond you at the moment, and the patients. They could all do with their
limbs remaining intact." He almost seemed a little disappointed by that. "How about something like an
emergency tracheotomy? Contains a suitable amount of gore and cutting, as well as being useful."
"Useful?" Angel considered the offer on the table. She knew that it was a take-or-leave it kind of offer,
but she still pretended to consider it anyway. "I suppose it *does* contain a certain amount of drama
and urgency, which is the sort of thing I'm good at. But I don't know that it'd be *majorly* useful..."
"People with blocked airways find it useful anyway. I'll get the equipment." Bree headed off to the
storeroom, masterfully avoiding several patient enquirys.
Angel checked her reflection in a mirrored surface, patted her immaculate bun into place, straightened
her white coat, and smirked at herself. This was more like it. She gave the patients a steely glaze,
hoping she could be allowed to pick whichever one she wanted to try out her skills on.
Bree returned with a few more archaic pieces of equipment and an old battered doll. A relic from a
first aid course of a bygone age. He hefted it onto one of the bio beds. "You can have a few minutes to
familiarise yourself with the technique. So long as you remember to check the size of the airway, cut
firmly and quickly and place to tube properly you'll be okay."
"What? But.. it's not even alive," Angel exclaimed in disgust.
"Well done. No bonus points for you there though." Bree sighed, "It's just meant to be a test."
"How on earth is this a proper test if the patient isn't even breathing in the *first* place?" she
demanded crossly.
Bree looked round sickbay quickly, "You don't often get volunteers for this sort of thing. I think most
sane people aren't too fond of the idea of being hacked at with a scalpel or suffocation."
"Well, I'm sure *someone* would be willing to hold their breath for a bit," she scowled at the patients
in the nearest beds. "Or we could stuff a bit of bread down their throats, just for realism. They'd be
fine since you're experienced if I make a blooper. After all, they might as well earn their keep."
Bree snorted at the idea, and the reaction of the nearest patient. "They don't seem overly reassured by
that idea."
"Well how about one of your assistants then?" Angel never knew when to give up. "They know all the
right responses and everything.. they'd make it *really* authentic.."
"Very authentic if you slipped. As incompetent as they can be I do need them." Bree made a point to
emphasize the last word. He poked at the doll, "We're going to use the model."
Knowing it was a case of willpower, with the Doctor having the edge as it was his sickbay, Angel
concede the point, albeit ungraciously. "Very well," she muttered, picking up the old fashioned metal
scalpel and testing it for sharpness. Now she had cold steel in her hands, her mood improved, and she
was back to her happy snide self in a few seconds. She flipped the Padd on and started reading the
procedure.
"One, make curvilinear skin incision along relaxed skin tension lines between sternal notch and cricoid
cartilage. Two, Midline vertical incision dividing strap muscles. Three, Division of thyroid isthmus
between ligatures. Four - Elevation of cricoid with cricoid hook." She checked it against the
accompanying diagram. "Then...Placement of tracheal incision. An inferior based flap or Björk flap through second and third tracheal rings - is commonly used. The flap is then sutured to the inferior skin
margin. Alternatives include a vertical tracheal incision or excision of an ellipse of anterior tracheal
wall. " She blinked. It all sounded rather lengthy. "Finally, insert tracheostomy tube - with concomitant
withdrawal of endotracheal tube - inflate cuff, secure with tape around neck or stay sutures.
Connect ventilator tubing."
She lowered the Padd, "Any patient that couldn't breather before would be dead as a dodo by the time
someone had fiddled about with all *that*," she snorted in derision. "Why all the twiddly bits? Surely
it's just a case of cut open, put tube in.." Glaring at Bree, as if he'd been the one that had written the
instructions, she said, "Okay. We'll do it *my* way."
"I'll start timing your attempt...." Bree checked the clock in sickbay that was hanging at a jaunty angle,
"...now!"
"Right," Angel glanced at the diagram one more time. *That* was where it was meant to go. Cutting,
that is. Between the second and third tracheal rings. She felt the dummy under her fingers, counted
mentally and sliced the scalpel across. It didn't feel natural that no blood oozed between her fingers.
But still, it was open. She snatched up the tubing and started to stuff it into the hole. But she either
misjudged the angle, or the size of the cut as it refused to feed in.
"Dammit, get in, or you'll regret it," she snapped. Then she snatched up the scalpel again and enlarged
the incision, waggling the instrument back and forth with careless abandon. This time, with a gaping
would large enough to fit two tubes in, the breathing aid slipped in perfectly easily.
"Done!"
"Dead!" Bree almost shouted it out despite the proximity of several patients. There was a definite grin
on his face, "Too slow. Try again."
"But it's already cut now," Angel grumped. "Have you got another, or can I practise on a real person
now I know what I'm doing."
"Know what you're doing?" Bree pulled at the edges of the incision with his fingers, "If this was a real
person then you would have done a great job a redecorating sickbay."
"I do *so* know what I'm doing. I just misjudged the size of the hole, that's all," Angel was being
obstinate.
"That you did. See the thing is....the size of the hole is one of the more important details with this
procedure." He poked around the doll's neck as he made the point.
"Alright, *you* show me, Doctor," she handed him the scalpel. "If I see how an *expert* does it, then
I'll know. Once seen, never forgotten," she smirked.
"Better not be.", warned Bree as he picked up one of the odder bits of equipment littered around the
doll. It was basically a puncture repair kit. He fixed the tear over the neck and added, "I don't like
repeating myself."
"Marines are very fast learners," Angel pointed out primly. "Yours isn't the only profession where lives
depend on getting it right first time, doctor."
The Doctor just raised an eyebrow, "Scalpel."
She already had it to hand, "Scalpel," she handed it to him with the skill of someone who watches
holovision medical drama.
"Starting...now."
Bree kept a firm grip on the scalpel and cut using a small deft flick of the wrist. "Pressure is key. If you
don't cut deep enough then you end up having to do it again, or damaging the tissue as you try and
jam the tube through it."
Angel was actually focussing one hundred per cent on what he was doing. When something interested
her, there was only one result - she wanted to be good at it.
Barely looking at what he was doing Bree wiped down the incision with a swab in one hand and
grabbed the tube with the other, "There would be some blood so it helps to see what you're aiming
at." He then slipped the tube in. "Ta da! Job done, life saved yet another miracle to my name." He
looked up at Angel, "You can cheer at this point if you like."
"I don't recall hearing tales of you cheering when the marines covered your butt and saved your life,
Doctor," she said with a sweet smile. "I think we can agree that doing a job superbly well is reward in
itself." She frowned, "Actually, it's not. People ought to get medals and rewards and promotions for
doing their job well. A culture that is sadly lacking these day, I fear."
Bree let the butt saving comment slide. Being thrown around and diving from rubble to rubble didn't
seem much like saving to him. "I find myself in the odd position of agreeing with you. That said, it was
only on a dummy. Real people tend to squirm a lot more when you come at them with a sharp
implement."
"It was a most efficient performance, doctor." Angel wasn't trying to be nice, because Angel didn't
*do* nice. She simply assessed people on how useful they were to her personally at any given time.
And right now, Bree Conley was useful so she wasn't as unpleasant to him as she would be to anyone
else. Besides, if there was one thing that Angel *did* respect, it was a professional being good at their
job.
"Hmmm, thank you." Bree narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Angel before absent mindedly repairing
the incision again.
"Scalpel," she held out a hand in the same manner he had.
Bree deftly spun the scalpel round and slapped it into Angel's open hand, "Start whenever you're
ready."
Taking a short breath, she saw in her minds eye what Bree had done, and flicked the scalpel across the
cut. She automatically mimicked his actions in swabbing the wound across and then aimed the tube at
it. Her cut wasn't as practised or precise as Bree's, and there was a moment's slight snagging, but she
was only a few seconds behind his time and the tube did, to her satisfaction, slip properly into the cut.
=/\= USS Pendragon =/\=
[Previously] .......all the lights flashed to crimson and a wailing klaxon blared from the intercom
systems. ^Red Alert. All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill. Repeat. All hands to battle stations.^
"The Pendragon just received a distress call from a tramp freighter under attack by Orion pirates.
Detachment Pendragon has prepped for transport to the freighter to repel the boarders. We are their
reserve if they run into problems over there. If the Orions try to get cute and board the Pendragon, we
are to assist the ship's Security complement in defense. Since we don't know the ship, we'll be assigned
a static post in Main Engineering."
"...Are they sure it isn't a trap, sir?"
Roman grinned at the troopers for the first time. It was a feral look that underlined his reputation as a
warrior. "If it is a trap, Private, then there's just more of them to kill."
[and now, the adventure continues...]
Roman was on the forward section of the ring, leaning over the railing. "Where do you want us, Chief,
so that we're not in the way?"
From below, the Chief Engineer waved. "You're fine up there, Lieutenant. If we need you, we'll be the
ones staying out of your way."
"Will do, Lieutenant." Szabo turned around and started pointing to Marines and then stations around
the ring. "You two," he said to John-Boy and Fidoe, "aft ladder. "You," to Akira and Bonnenfant,
"starboard lift." He split everyone else into pairs, leaving just himself and one other Marine left.
"Boudreaux, as Corporal, you're my XO for now. You cover port and aft, I've got starboard and
forward."
"Aye Aye," Sir," Jack said, sounding more navy than marine, but his stance was pure green machine.
Szabo waited for a brief second as he took in all of the troopers, especially the youngest ones and lifted
his visor. "If the Orions make it here, it will be a knife fight. Get in close to them. They typically are not
trained in edged weapon fighting and as a culture, the Orions have no martial arts that are the match
for what you were taught about unarmed combat. They're physiology is similar to humans. A blow to
the throat will put them down. A knife to the heart will put them out. Do your jobs, rely on your
training and we will be victorious. STATIONS!"
That was what Akira wanted to hear. He rushed off in the direction of the lift alongside Bonnenfant,
already sorting his equipment. He slung his gun over his shoulder and whipped out several blades as he
ran. He might actually get to show his merit even before he reached his posting. If it weren't for the
possibility of him or another marine dying, he'd almost be glad at this turn of events.
"Lets get it on," he said to himself. Xavier made sure the knife he receive as a gifted from his superior
officer at graduation was still in place.
"Well, you heard the fella, move!" Fidoe did his best not to trip over his feet or any unidentifiable
objects with a strange whiff, as he crashed both hands somewhere towards Simm and his back.
"Yeah, I heard the fella. I don't need it in fekking stereo," John-Boy rolled his eyes as he swatted Fidoe's
hands away. "Don't touch what you can't afford."
"You'd get there quicker if you tap-danced, T-Bird," Fidoe grinned, "All you need is a black leather
jacket, some Brylcream and drainpipes."
"I'm already ahead of you, doofus," John-Boy wondered if he could get away with accidentally-onpurpose sending a fellow marine arse-over-tit down onto the lower floor. That railing looked invitingly
flimsy. "Stop fussing yer ass off."
In position, John-Boy fixed the various access and egress points in his head. "Brylcreem is good, if they
still made it," he said, apropos of nothing. "Imagine it slicked all over this gantry. Be funny watching the
Orions skating right off the edge. Be like shooting fish in a barrel."
Woof fiddled, patting down pockets. There were a couple of magazines here some place. He wasn't a
shoot 'em type of marine. An oxymoron of a marine-easy on the moron-if ever there was one. Whilst
he was equipped with something that could bang and do some damage, it wasn't the size of the
equipment. More what it could. Given half a chance. Tucking the small arm into his belt, Fidoe
retrieved the palm pilot type computer again. He had half an idea. "Say we're all connected," he called
out, scuttering around still.
"Now what?" John-Boy muttered. "You got ants in yer pants?"
"Just a short wave communications relay, Borg like in connection," he replied pulling two short stumpy
aerials from the top of the palm padd. "At least we know where we all are amongst ourselves. Perhaps
spot anything before it spots us. Then wham." He looked up from the padd as a cartoon avatar of
Muttley from Wacky races bounced around his screen as he attempted to poke any other units that
were within the units wave range. "I'm just...talking to myself, by the looks of things."
"Uhh...." John-Boy rolled his eyes again as he tapped the helmet, the inbuilt receiver and indicated the
mouthpiece. "That's 'cos we're all linked via internal comm, yeah?"
Jack started out at port settling in the newest of his personal flock. One young marine looked
extremely worried, so Jack went over the orders again, slowly. There were a couple of females in the
group. They looked like they could saw through iron with a teaspoon. Interesting group they all were,
interesting.
After checking all the positions and making sure they were in place, Jack headed aft to the pride and
joy of fleet John-Boy and Fidoe.
"You two comfortable?" Jack asked.
"Just chilling," came Fidoes' reply as he tinkered with the wiring behind his ear, "Could do with a Bud."
"Same again plus a couple of blankets and a kebab if you're doing the hospitality run, Corp," John-Boy
supplied. "Don't reckon we'll get much business here."
"I can't imagine anyone stupid enough to try to come down this ladder while we're all here waiting for
them," Jack said aloud. "Probably more action by the lift, but you never know, you never know."
"Quite right," nodded Fidoe, "Can never remember who said that. Was either Plato or that Socrates."
"Assuming.." John-Boy was ticking off the chain of causality, "That one, the 'Dragonfolk don't manage
to take them out on the ship and two, the Orions are mob-handed enough to spare bodies to get over
here and three, they manage to beam in through the ship's shields and four, they want to come here in
the first place." John-Boy shrugged. "Could happen. But unless there's something we don't know, it
*shouldn't* happen."
"Where you from?" Boudreaux asked the two.
"Gloucester in deepest England, back on earth," the words were chomped as James stuffed his mouth
full of Wrigleys Chewing gum. There was stash at the bottom of his kit that his sister would send out to
him every now and again. Beat chewing on tobacco any day of the week. Was definitely cheaper and
there wasn't the horrible whiffiness of being a chain smoker.
John-Boy didn't answer quite so readily. "Here there and everywhere," he said briefly. "Nomad by
name, Nomad by nature."
"Been in long?" Jack asked.
"Long enough not to know better," shrugged James, "I stopped counting when I should have been
dead ten times over."
"Enlisted the day I turned seventeen," John-Boy said with uncharacteristic abruptness if anyone knew
him. But they didn't, yet, so it didn't seem particularly out of sorts.
"You know what, I don't think we're here to look pretty," James tapped a short stylus against the
screen of his computer. His thick fingers were smeared still with waxy black boot polish. "Sorry, to
shatter your illusions, Simm."
"You two fit pretty," Jack laughed.
John-Boy just shrugged, fervently hoping he didn't ever get teamed up with this computer dweeb
again. "Dunno 'bout that, Corp. Don't buy a new hat for the wedding just yet."
"You're so funny,T-Bird, I just felt my spleen displace." replied James in monotone. He sighed deeply as
he viewed the positions of the rest of their troupe. "In theory, the Pendragon lot should be able to
contain whatever the problem is. We're just the auxiliaries drafted in whilst in transit. Say we do get
involved, and have to add our twopenneth in. Might make for good introduction to BoB. Getting there
alive. Always a good thing."
"Right," Jack said, "like the old saying about an heir and a spare. We're the spare."
"Mm," John-Boy just grunted and kept his eyes fixed on their designated target area.
"We jest gotta be primed and ready," James smiled to stick the computer back into his pocket, rubbing
his hands together to get rid of the grime. "Should the need arise, and knowing our luck. It bleedin'
will."
"Do you ever stop rabbiting on?" John-Boy muttered under his breath.
"Great team bildin' exercise this gonna be," Private Fidoe exhaled into the wad of gum that churned in
his mouth and blew a bubble. "Not one of us knows the other, not really, and already we got team
combat. Should be all right," he shrugged. "We've all had near enough the same drill shouted and
screamed at us. Doing the whole, all for one, one fer all, d'Artagnan thing. Technically, it's do-able. I'm
sure Simm can gis the odds."
"So what are the odds of us seeing combat today?" Jack asked.
John-Boy looked at both of them for a moment before he spoke, his sharp features tightening
momentarily, his dark eyes becoming heavy-lidded. "No can do, Corp. I bet to win cash. I don't make
cash on the back of combat. Because people die. Don't make money out of people dying - marines
dying. Never have, never will."
Jack smiled, impressed. He didn't gamble at all, personally. He was satisfied with the reply which had
changed his opinion of John-Boy around 360 degrees.
Xavier heard the others still speaking about gambling, he didn't get if he was retarded or if the marine
corps had a second function a the casino. But Johnny-Boy had alot of sense, they shouldn't never bet
on their brothers life, especially if that meant one of them die. It would be kind of a shame to die on
his first chance of battle. Can you imagine the picture, I your son dead on his first mission he did well
but died...
*****
Sasaki tied a blade that was little more than a heavy, sharpened piece of metal to his left wrist and
pulled his standard issue survival knife. He did have a close range weapon he much preferred to this,
but as luck would have it, he left it at home. Assuming he survived long enough to do so, he would
have to ask his parents to send it along to him. Of course, that would involve talking to them. His
mother was probably still a little miffed that he hadn't become a dentist like his father. His father
hadn't cared either way. Actually, he envied Akira for not having to put up with little brats biting his
fingers, and said he might enlist himself one of these days.
He overheard the others talking gambling and the lack thereof. He didn't care either way, but he had
listened intently when one of them had ventured the prediction that the lift, where Akira was, would
see most of the action, if there was action to be seen.
*****
"NOMADS!"
Szabo walked around the edge of the ring to the front and looked down at the Chief Engineer who had
called up. "Yeah, Chief?"
"The Captain ordered us to prep for firing the main battery when we arrive. It draws energy straight
from the warp core and we'll be without shields and life support for about 30 seconds afterwards
because of the energy drain. If the Orions are going to get in, it will be then." The Lieutenant smiled
broadly. "That's assuming of course that our salvo doesn't cut their ship in half!"
"Roger that, Chief!" Szabo turned around so that all of the Nomads could see him. "You heard the man.
Get ready for incoming."
"Showtime," John-Boy murmured to himself.
"Lovely," Fidoe was trying to keep a level head, as well as his pulse well below the threshold for his
heart to jump out of his chest.
Jack trained his weapon on a likely spot and waited; his breathing was even and steady.
"Thirty seconds to arrival," came the call from the lower level. The Chief Engineer directed all of his
personnel around the work spaces as they prepped for the firing sequence.
Szabo dropped his face shield, obscuring his face behind the featureless piece of equipment. With
practiced ease, he grounded his brand new Mark VI combat rifle and drew the bayonet off of his left
hip. Slotting it onto the end of the rifle, he locked it in place and then disconnected the shoulder straps
so that he could swing the rifle easier if it came to close combat.
John-Boy was only fractionally slower, and within a few nanoseconds had the same arrangement set
up. He recalled Szabo's advice to get in quick and kill fast. This was going to be interesting...
Fidoe remained fairly laisez-faire. He had been over this so many times already in his head. The routine
that the therapist had imparted to him, whereby he converted the nervous energy into instrumental.
Meant keeping his trap shut, and engaging his brain. All seven and half brain cells of it. The brim of his
helmet was tapped up with the barrel of the small arm that had been previously wedged into his
trousers. Whilst the Gaffer had attached a bayonet to the end of his rifle, Fidoes' sharp pointy stick was
around his back some place, keeping him standing bolt straight.
For the first time the doctor's younger brother seem almost nervous as he drop his face shield, he
ponder about the meaning of his life. Would anyone remember this battle, would anyone care. He
knew that wasn't the purpose of this battle, like making history but afterall he didn't want to have his
unit died if nothing of it. He surprise himself to think about defeat instead of winning another weird
thing for him.
Jack, also as ready as he could get, glanced around at the marines he could see . He didn't want the
lieutenant to yell at him for someone being sloppy or unready.
"Fifteen seconds!"
Grip tightened, then loosened, then tightened, then loosened as John-Boy kept the adrenaline
pumping. There was still a feeling of detached unreality about the situation. Were the Orions crazy?
They must know they were walking into a trap. Or did they? Could they know about the extra
complement of marines? It was going to be a lesson they'd learn the hard way.
Fidoe bit at the skin on the inside of his cheek, before he came across the mushy, squidgy ball of
chewing gum that made him look like a hamster with tooth ache. He could catatrophise, woof thought
to himself. Increase his anxiety levels, fiddle with the magazine when he went to reload, jam the
mechanism and perhaps shoot his foot off when he went to aim. Only that would be waste, Woof
considered. He'd have no foot. It was far more productive and profitable to stick a slug in an Orion.
Would make for a safer universe, he was feeling all very utilitatarian with a dash of egalitarian for
afters.
Xavier stop thinking and smile, this was it, stop thinking and start killing.
Jack was humming a little tune from the bayou to himself as he listened.
"TEN!"
Roman leaned the rifle back up against the railing and cracked his knuckles inside of the combat
gauntlets before rolling his head side-to-side as far as the helmet and stiff body armor collar would let
him.
Breathing slowed now, John-Boy rolled his shoulders under the stiffened body armour. His mind kept a
firm grip on the situation but a part of it, a very small part of it, started rolling a different scene, a
montage, a requiem, a revenge. Holding the thought at boiling point, he let it feed slowly through his
veins as he had always done before. The anger was hungry now, and he was ready to devour.
Slowly, Woof chewed on the gum that was loosing its minty freshness. He curled his fingers slowly, in
and around the pistol that he clutched.'And breathe, in...errraand out.....errraand in.....'he chanted
inside his head. He was here to do a job, that was all. He just had to do it. And perhaps not snuff it in
the process.
"Tonight I'm gonna see my ..." Jack hummed.
"FIVE"
"FOUR"
"THREE"
"TWO"
The Chief Engineer didn't bother saying 'one' as it was pretty obvious to everyone when the ship fired.
All of the lights dimmed out and the emergency lighting popped on. There was a bustle of commotion
and energy from the engineering staff as they sprang into action to restore their ship's systems. The
Nomads were left in the dark in sealed combat suits with only their thoughts to keep them company
for the moment.
=/\= USS Caledonia - CO's Ready Room =/\=
Still disturbed by the abrupt and unsatisfactory ending of her sojourn with Stefan, Chess sat down and
promptly commed the Admiral's Office. Right now, almost anything would be welcome to take her
mind off current personal events.
Not that she would have any choice in the matter of whether 'almost anything' was suitable, of course.
But wherever the Admiral's favourite Rehabilitation project was sent, it was unlikely to be dull.
Within seconds the now familiar face of Admiral Chris Bishops appeared on the screen. Captain Myers.
Recovered from your unexpected journey to the Mirror Universe?"
"We survived well enough, thank you Admiral."
"Good. Good. Now, I won't waste time with chat, I have a most unusual little mission for the Caledonia.
There is a situation arisen which needs swift handing, and will probably require a certain amount of
blue-sky thinking."
"Our speciality," she murmured, knowing full well that it was undoubtedly a mission that no-one else
would want to handle.
"I'm sending you co-ordinates for your destination. It's only a few days travel from here if you go at top
speed. Well, whatever 'top speed' translates to in Caledonia terms."
Chess was already studying the information on a split-screen arrangements. "The planet Deva Loka.
Can't say I'm familiar with it," she did a little double-take. It's listed as M-Class. I didn't think there were
any MClass planets in that region.
"It is, technically, M-Class," Bishops explained. "It has a temperate climate and excellent eco-structure
to support life. But, this is of little use since ninety-five per cent of the planet is a waterworld. There is
only one small equatorial landmass in existence, the Boeshane Peninsula. The majority of this is
mountain ranges, with one small green valley area tucked away in the middle. Given the very small
amount of liveable space available, any terraforming would be a waste of time and resources, so it has
never really been considered viable."
"So it's uninhabited?"
"No, and this is where it gets interesting. It's been in private ownership for nearly a century now, and is
a retreat for a Spiritual order; the Order of Po. It's from an old dialect in the region which simply means
'purity'."
"So it's a monastery?" Chess tried to clarify.
"Not exactly, as I don't think there are any actual deities involved. It's purely spiritual and
contemplative. Very peaceful communal setting, very much back to nature. The Brothers there grown
everything they need to eat, and are completely self-sufficient."
"Sounds idyllic, if you like that sort of thing," Chess commented. "So what's the problem?"
"The problem is with their interpretation of purity," Bishops gave a wry smile. "They commune with
nature, but only plant life. They consider anything else unclean and distractive - insects, birds, fish,
animals... they ban all contact."
"Isn't that a bit tricky, being in a rather lush valley, which must have a large population of all small
mammals and insects?" Chess was looking at the pictures now displaying. The Peninsula was long and
narrow, and the mountain ranges were steep, with the green valley nestled right in the centre, looking
like a hidden paradise.
"They have a practical solution to that. There is a huge clear protective dome over their entire living
areas, nearly half a mile in circumference. There are only one hundred Brothers there, so it's ample
space. It had a filtering system so they get a greenhouse effect with all fresh air and oxygen, but no
insects. The water that flows through the dome from a natural stream is filtered on entry, and the soil
was excavated on construction with a sealed layer placed underneath. So it's all hermetically sealed,
and they enjoy the scenery and the natural sunlight without any actual contact."
"Seems to defeat the object of the exercise, really," Chess murmured. "All that natural beauty and they
can't experience any of it."
"I believe that's the object of the exercise. The location was chosen for it's remoteness and it's natural
situation - unable to be populated by any colonies. The Order purchased it, as I mentioned, over a
hundred years ago, and ever since then they have enjoyed their own interpretation of existence."
"And now something has gone wrong?"
Bishops steepled his hands, "Something has been going wrong since the start of the year. At first it was
thought to be a minor malfunction, but now it's escalating, and people are getting hurt. Now someone
has died, and they need our help."
Chess just raised an eyebrow for him to continue.
"The first odd thing happened when a small group of the Brothers were gardening and one apparently
disturbed an ants nest. An ant's nest that shouldn't have existed. The ants bit the Brothers, two of the
younger ones only suffered normal stinging but the older Brother was in the infirmary for several
weeks, as his systems were more compromised."
"How so? What has age got to do with it?"
"Their diet is, as you can imagine, strictly vegetarian. They only eat the plants, nuts, seeds and
vegetables that they grow themselves. Plus, after decades without any contact with normal everyday
insect stings and bites, the older man's natural immune system was seriously weakened."
"I see. So how did the anthill happen?"
"No-one knew. At first they thought there was maybe a leak in the sub-layer of sealant but they
checked and it was all exactly as it should be."
"Right. Okay, so what happened next?"
"Next, a bird was discovered flying around inside the dome. It was a normal indigenous type of small
bird, natural to the island."
"What happened?"
"I don't think it ended up on the dinner table, if that's what you mean," Bishops was at his driest. "But
it was disposed of."
"And they checked the structure of the dome?"
"Thoroughly. But it was completely intact."
"Mysterious," Chess said thoughtfully. "And now you say there has been a death?"
"Unfortunately, yes. They grow flowers and herbs for medicines, and a few weeks ago a bee was found
- at least, it stung one of the older gardeners, which is how they found it, and the poor man's system
shut down. He suffered anaphylactic shock and died."
"Which would be a predictable reaction, given what you said about their immune system, I suppose. So
what do they need us to do?"
"We've been in negotiation with them, and they want a small crew to come and see with outsiders
eyes. They can't explore outside the dome, and they are certain that the so-called accidents are not
coincidence."
"So what are we thinking here?" Chess started mulling it over. "An aggrieved Brother wanting to
escape?"
"No, there is nothing to stop anyone leaving the order whenever they wish. There is quite a steady
stream of applicants for places, maybe not so surprising in this hectic modern world that some would
choose to retreat from it all. Each potential new member is screened for suitability quite rigorously.
They have to undergo any number of psychological tests, and then they have to have a suitable trade."
"A trade?"
"Yes, something to contribute to the community. A medic, a botanist, a chef, an administrator, an
engineer... despite the spiritual nature of the order, they are by no means a group of unworldly
aesthetics. They are all intelligent, educated, skilled men who simply decide to contemplate the purity
of the universe. But if they decide the life is not for them, then they are free to leave at any time."
"Okay... a disgruntled failure. Someone who didn't make the final cut. Someone who didn't get in and
is determined to get some payback."
"It's possible but highly unlikely. No-one could exist outside the dome without it being picked up on
their sensors. They have a highly sophisticated sensor net on the outskirts of their area of space.
Obviously, privacy is a major issue. besides, there is seldom any hard feelings. Many of those that don't
get in decide to work for the order off-world in a Lay capacity, fundraising or logistics support. It's all
very amicable."
"So we're left with good old mechanical failure. Which, despite their skills, might still be the most
logical reason."
"And that's what you'll be looking to discover, Captain."
"I won't deny it'll be an interesting little puzzle," Chess looked quite intrigued.
"Good. And please, captain - be sensitive to their customs. We have of course made it quite clear that
you will need as free a hand as possible to thoroughly investigate, both inside and outside the dome.
They are very sensible of this fact, and so in return please respect any of their customs that you feel
will not directly hamper your progress."
Chess now looked just a tad suspicious, "We won't have to do any weird rituals or anything like that?
And how do they feel about women wandering around their complex?"
Bishops gave a quiet chuckle, "I can assure you they won't run screaming. They are a celibate order, by
their own choice. So they are ambivalent towards women. It won't cause any problems at all."
Chess nodded, "Let's hope so." Then she paused, "Admiral, I do have one question."
"Just one?"
"Mm. Why are we being sent there? I assume they're a human colony, and it's inside Federation space,
of course. But why the might pf Starfleet?" she said that with some irony. "A whole starship? It's a bit
overkill, isn't it? Why does Starfleet need to be involved."
Bishops knew she would ask. "Switch to secure channel, please."
Chess immediately did so, "There's something so important we can't discuss it over open channels?
Now things are *really* interesting."
"I wouldn't call it interesting exactly. But there is an element that you should be aware of. Starfleet
needs this to be sorted, and as fast as possible."
"Why?"
Bishops told her, in a few well-chosen sentences.
"I see.." she said at length. "That does rather explain their eagerness to help the Order."
"Exactly. It's a quid pro quo, and a favourable result will mean Starfleet gets what it needs."
"I want to share this with my officers," Chess said firmly. "It's not - exactly - state secrets, and it would
help if they knew why it was so important we get a result. That way, they won't waste any time
puzzling over it."
"Very well. But not until you are under way, and only verbally. The trouble we have finding these
places, let alone keeping them under wraps, is a headache in and of itself. If this goes pear-shaped
then it's nearly two years careful negotiation down the drain."
"I understand, Admiral. I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of it."
"Keep me updated, captain. I'll send over additional files for you to study on the way. Although there's
not a whole lot more to know. Anything else you can deal directly with the Chief Brother, once you get
there."
"Certainly. I'll put out a recall and we'll set off within twenty-four hours."
"Good luck, Captain. I'll look forward to hearing from you."
Chess closed the comm and sat thoughtfully for a few moments. It was certainly an interesting little
conundrum, although she doubted there would be anything too sinister in the answer. Although, with
the Caledonia, anything was possible.
With a dry laugh, she opened a comm to all her crew. ^"Attention all hands, this is Captain Myers. The
Caledonia will be setting out in twenty-four hours time. All crew to be at their stations two hours from
departure, and make ready. Myers out."^
So they were about to hit the road again. She found herself looking forward to seeing the stars streak
past the viewport again. Shoreleave was all very well - but she found she craved action now. Especially
now.
=/\= SB BoB - Upper Flight Deck =/\=
Splayed out on one of the raggedy couches, Lieutenant Quide lounged. He hadn't passed out - at least
he didn't think so - but he had more than enough beer to make laying down seem like a very good idea.
That said, he had no idea how long he had been laying there. He lazily raised his head to look around,
but didn't see the others. Admittedly, he didn't try very hard. He knew Reeds was gone because he had
left fairly early into the party - just after the Chinese food was gone - saying something about the
counselor. The pretense gone, it had become a real pilot's party in Quide's mind, and that was defined
by the amount of beer consumed.
"Y'still around 'ere Jinti?"
"Over here, bud," came the slightly sleepy voice. She was sprawled almost identically in an armchair
set at right angles to the couch he was laying on.
"Oh, there y'are 'iding," he said with a grin to the woman who, if she was in any plainer sight, everyone
in the universe would be able to see her despite the distance. "Quite a party, wasn't it? And the beer
and egg rolls... 'oo would 'ave thought they go together. That Richards o ya's is a genius."
"Ha, yeah, he's a good lad. Used to play rugby a lot, I think that's where he gets his oddball notions
about food from," Jinti knew there were a few dregs of beer in her glass, but reaching down, finding it,
and lifting it - all seemed like too much hard work right then.
"Speakng o which, where did those two get to?" Quide looked around again, with no more effort than
before.
"Ya only just missed 'em. See, Richards, he likes to have a good beer or five, but he's one o'them guys
whut knows when ta stop," Jinti didn't make it sound like a particularly admirable trait. "An' Zellers,
she's the kinda gal whut knows she gets daft after a pint but once she starts she don't tend ta stop. So
Richards jist carted her away.... lit'rally jist now."
From the direction of the turbolift came a thin off-key happy little voice singing;
"Auntie Mary, had a canary, up the leg of her drawers,
When she farted, it departed..."
..followed by a giggle and then blessed silence as the turbolift descended.
"Yeah, like I said, she gets a bit giggly," Jinti snickered. "That wuz quite a party, ya know. I reckon yer
mate enjoyed it, didn't he?"
"Ee seemed to," Quide ventured, chuckling from the catchy tune disappearing down the turbolift. "'Bit
'ard to tell with 'im."
"Bit of an odd fella," Jinti said with her usual bluntness. "I mean, he seemed ta kinda like it, but then
again, he wuzn't exactly whut ya call the life an' soul, ya know? Is he always like this or d'ya reckon it's
just cos he ain't properly well yet?"
"I 'ave no idea," Quide sighed and rubbed the corner of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
"Honestly, I don't know much about 'im at all. Judging by the records I pulled on 'im from 'is last
posting, not many do.
"Ah well, takes all sorts," Jinti said lazily. "I oughtta get goin' myself soon. Coz I reckon we'll be back out
on patrol soon this week, we'z had a good R&R but shore leave don't last forever, an' they like us ta
earn our keep."
Quide tried to hide a bit of disappointment at hearing that which he already knew. "Pesky thing,
Starfleet life. Just because they pay y'and provide for y'and y'sign off on y'agreement to do whatever
they tell y'to do, they act like they can tell y'what to do."
"Ain't that kinda cuz they *do* got the pips ta tell ya whut ta do?" she gave a lazy grin. "I bet ya jumps
when yer told, jist like the rest of us."
"Not me," he insisted. "I never follow orders. I do whatever I want to do, whenever I want to do it... It
just so 'appens that I don't know what I want to do, or when, before my orders come down. 'Attention
Quide: Admiral is coming to inspect the station, scrub out the 'eads in all o the runabouts.' 'Oh yeah, I
was thinking o doing that as soon as my shift was over. Y'saying I can do it during working hours? 'Appy
days!"
"Sure ya do," Jinti chuckled. "Ain't that convenient, huh?"
"Master o 'is own destiny, right 'ere," Quide jerked a thumb at himself before sitting up. He was
starting to get a little antsy with all of this laying around, and at least sitting was closer to being up and
about. He was trying to think of something to say regarding her leaving, but everything sounded wrong
in his head, and he couldn't insult her by saying something general like 'Fly carefully,' or 'Stay safe out
there,' because she was a great pilot and an experienced officer, and wasn't likely to *not* do either of
those just because he didn't tell her to.
"Well 'ey, if y'get bored out there, feel free to mutiny and turn 'er around. I'll 'ide y'from the MPs when
y'get back. We'll make a day o it."
"Pffft, the crew of the Caly tried ta mutiny once, an' made such a pigs ear of it they nearly blew
themselves up," Jinti scoffed. "Nuthin' ta do with me, I wuz off rescuing some guy in a shuttle at the
time. But I don't think they'd fancy another shot at it, seein' as how it ain't sumthin' we'd manage. But
yeah, I kinda know whut ya mean. After all the high-flyin' of the last battle, things is gonna seem a bit
quiet around here, ain't they?"
Quide nodded with a shrug. "O course, that isn't all bad. We still get to fly, but without quite so much
chance o getting vaporized. Sure it takes some o the excitement out o it, but better to live to fly again, I
say."
"Well, the same offer stands, only kinda reverse," Jinti felt she really couldn't manage her last drop of
beer. She felt more like being a bit more alert and avoiding saying anything that sounded sappy. "If'n
things ain't happenin' around here, ya c'n jist grab a valk an' take off an' come an' find the Caly. Ya
know where the bar is now, an' yer credit's always good."
"That's y'mistake to make," Quide laughed. "Y'just try to collect on my debts and see 'ow far y'get."
"Sheesh, ya jist got promoted twice, sorta," Jinti laughed. "Ya must be minted."
"Sure, I got plenty o raises, but I 'ave expensive 'abits too." Punctuating the comment was a gesture in
the direction of his discarded cup. "I was trying to give it up, but then y'come and drag be back into the
life," he sighed dramatically. There was only so much rambling he could do before it started to get
weird, and he hardly wanted his last impression before Jinti left to be 'that guy who wouldn't stop
talking.' Though, that was perhaps a better impression to leave her with than the other possibility,
which would doubtless be the case if Jinti didn't leave before he stopped being able to restrain an
impulse that was, for him, rather rash.
"Be sure to drop a line now and again out there," he added. "I'm going to be dock-locked for a while
shaping these birds into something remotely ship-like, and I could use someone to live vicariously
through for a bit."
"I'll give ya a holler over the comm, sure," she stood up, knowing if she didn't find her feet now she'd
just doze off in the chair. "Though don't worry if'n ya don't hear anythin'," ~why in the hell would he
worry? That was just plain nuts~ she told herself. "A'coz the places we land up in, sometimes the
comms clonk out. Eh, well, better haul ass back ta the ship, I guess it won't be long now.."
Whether in his own mind, or in reality, she seemed ready to leave, and as he thought it for the best, he
decided to make it easy. He stood up with a stretch. "I guess I should be 'eading off myself. I'm sure
there's another small mountain o paperwork somewhere with my name on it. We'll 'ave to do this
again sometime - but y'will 'ave to supply the injured crewman next time."
Jinti just chuckled. "It'll be Zellers, ya can bet on it. That gal manages ta get some sorta injury nearly
every mission. An' we try an' look out fer her, but she jist seems ta manage ta be in the one place that
she'll either get bit or clonked on the head, every time."
Quide walked off toward the turbolift alongside Jinti. He could just as easily gone toward the Valkyries
to tinker around, but that would be inconsistent with his busy-ness excuse, as his office was on the
other side of the station - a mistake on his part. As the pair reached the turbolifts, he failed against his
impulse and turned to Jinti. Gaining her attention with a quick "Ey, Jinx" he leaned in and up - damn
taller women - and placed a quick, tender kiss on her lips.
Jinti was too surprised to respond and wondered for a split second if she was imagining things. Without
moving she said slowly, "Am I jist having one of them haluccy-nayshun things or did you jist kiss me?"
Taken aback by his own actions, Quide didn't even think to move back and instead stayed close,
grinning in a seeming attempt to look innocent of what he had just done. "To me honest, I'm not
rightly sure."
"Mebbe ya oughtta do it again, jist so's I'z sure.." she couldn't believe she was saying that.
He didn't have to be told twice. Wrapping his arms partially around her waist, he pulled her close and
kissed her again. It was still soft and innocent, but longer and much less awkward than the first, and as
such, much more enjoyable. It seemed so crazy that he had been worried about keeping himself from
doing this just moments ago.
"Hell yeah, that wuz real," she grinned and leaned down to kiss him back. "That wuz real too," she said
after a few moments highly enjoyable demonstration.
"It would 'ave to be real," Quide reasoned with an ear to ear smile. "I don't tend to 'ave dreams this
good."
"But why'd ya do that?" she gave him a quirky little grin. "I mean, ya ain't drunk or anythin'. At least,
not much..."
"I'd 'ave to say that's 'alf the reason I did it. I 'ardly wanted to tell y'that I didn't think o y'as a drinking
buddy while I was too drunk to be taken seriously, but too sober to work up the guts."
"That's good cuz I kinda likes you too, Songbird," for once Jinti wasn't quite so brash, and felt herself
floundering a bit. "Um. I ain't sure whut we says next," she admitted sheepishly. "I ain't very good at
this sorta stuff."
"That's the other 'alf of the reason," he said with a quiet chuckle. "I didn't know 'ow the 'ell to go about
this, so I was just sort o... winging it."
"Works fer me," she grinned, the unexpectedness of it all sobering her up pretty darn fast. "Ya
romances like ya flies, Songbird. It ain't by the book but ya sure know how ta hit the target. Me, I ain't
used to such manoevers so I'm kinda in yer slipstream a bit. I usually saz things all wrong anyhow.
Mouth engages before brain, ya know?""
Quide had to laugh, even though all he could think about was the fact that anything he could think to
say involved the fact that Jinti was about to leave. "We're 'opeless, aren't we? Well, 'ere's an idea - we
usually don't 'ave to force any kind o conversation, so let's not start now. We don't need to make any
sort o grand speech. We know 'ow we feel now anyway, right? So let's just act as natural as it seems."
He paused for a moment. "Though maybe..."
"Mebbe whut?"
"Well, I was just thinking that at some point - per'aps no time soon, mind ya, I might 'ave to let go o
ya." He gestured down and to the side with his head to indicate his arms still encircling her waist but
didn't move them. "I could be wrong y'know. There's no stopping technology, and maybe they could
rig something up where we could do our respective jobs like this, though given the budget around 'ere
I sort o doubt it. Maybe if I donated all o my alco'ol fund..."
"Aw, not that's gotta be the most romatic thing anyone's ever said ta me," she looked at him with
undisguised affection. "If'n a man is willin' ta give up his booze then he sure is a keeper."
"Such is my resolve, that I would stop slowly killing myself through excessive drinking," he said with a
dramatic flair and ended with a firm nod. "Though, I just assumed I'd sneak a drink or two out o y'stash
from time to time. What's a few free drinks between..." he blinked, "whatever we are?"
"Whutever we are..." she nodded slowly. "I dunno 'zactly. But I sure know we'z gonna have fun findin'
out."
"Fun is guaranteed, for sure! Now, if y'want, we can start by 'eading down to the prom' for just enough
drinks to get a buzz going again, and a bit o dancing. What do y'think?"
Whatever Jinti was about to say next was interrupted by her commbadge chirping. ^"Attention all
hands, this is Captain Myers. The Caledonia will be setting out in twenty-four hours time. All crew to be
at their stations two hours from departure, and make ready. Myers out."^
"Ohhhh crud," Jinti wailed. "Now if'n that ain't the worst timin' I ever heard."
Were Quide flexible enough, he would have kicked himself right in the backside. He just *had* to wait
until the last second, and this is what he got. "I guess this is one o those, 'If y'don't get on that starship
now, y'will regret it. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon and for the rest o y'life because o the
court martial it would cause' moments." Apparently he was so upset he was channeling ancient
movies.
"Yeah, I gotta scoot," she said glumly. "Now we'z on stand-by there's gotta be someone on dooty at
the helm 'till we goes. An' Zellers is too sloshed, an' I bet Richards will only give me grief if'n I ain't back
ta spot him through until we sets off. An' there's all the pre-flights to do, an' stuff ta check. Hell, ya
know how it goes. Imagine the stuff ya gotta do on a Valk, then times it by space-ship size."
Quide nodded slowly. Of course he knew what she was talking about - there was tons she had to do
and check, and it wasn't the kind of stuff that could wait until the last minute. Despite this knowledge,
he was feeling particularly selfish at the moment and just couldn't seem to care anywhere near enough
about the duties aboard the Caledonia. So, he thought he'd try his puppy dog eyes one more time.
"Well, I reckon they won't miss me fer a few more minutes.." Jinti gave a knowing grin. "I reckon we
deserves time ta say goodbye, now...."
"A few minutes, an odd hour..." Quide said dismissively with a mischievous smile. "Just say y'were late
because y'were sucked into an alternate reality or something. 'Oo around 'ere would think to doubt
it?"
=/\= BoB - Infirmary =/\=
Bree side stepped a gaggle of ill looking people and managed to get into BoB's infirmary before they
could. He didn't want to have to be waiting for a trifling ailment to be treated. As always there was lots
to do and he needed to consult with Francois about that Frost woman. It'd be a good excuse to catch
up too whilst appearing to be working.
"Doctor Bonnenfant?" asked Bree of a passing Nurse. He headed in the appropriate direction.
The nurse pointed him in the right direction
"Doctor." There was a nod and a tight smile from Bree he approached, "How are things?"
"Mr Bree! Well no lawsuit yet" he grin "Thing as been crazy here but were starting to be able to send
people home. And you?"
"There are still one or two patients making the sickbay look untidy but I'll soon be sending them on
their way. They can sleep and recover in their own quarters just as well as they could in my sickbay."
There was a little sigh from Bree. He couldn't wait to be free of the last few injured.
"Good thing your here wanted to speak to you about the ice princess Frost, what a woman hey!"
"She's a relentless sour faced harridan." Bree shook his head.
He laugh "Well she's interesting, I heard she a fantastic assistant"
Bree rolled his eyes, "She's not killed anyone yet. That I know of anyway. She's efficient though, I'll
give her that. She's still more suited to putting people in sickbay than getting them out."
"Marine to the end, personally I found that she as mental issues that without the physical ones she
suffered." he said very seriously.
The Caledonia's Doctor rubbed at his neck, "Yeah about that. Sorry if I over rode you diagnosis a bit
but she wasn't going to take no for an answer. And at least this way I get to give her all the dirty jobs."
Bree's mouth twisted into an ugly grin.
"She did physio and as much as she hated me for it, she has now a better chance of not getting injured
again. I love when patient are not really inclined to tell you thanks." he grin
"Is she actually coming into for physiotherapy?"
"actually she finish this morning by breaking my nose and breaking a rib" he show him the wound
"Made her fight me to see he muscle reaction. She's fast and deadly but she has serious issues, maybe
her dad was there or some shit like that, I'm not a counsellor so couldn't tell you."
Bree's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why would you fight a trained killer? Especially one with a grudge
like her?"
"Well, wanted to see how if I could survive a marine and the answer so far would be no, still was kind
of fun, I think she dig me, poor her she'll have dream of me naked on the beach and unable to get to
me, the burden they have to endure when the see me" he started to laugh.
"Yeah..." Bree desperately tried to avoid the mental image, "Poor her. That could be one reason she
is...as she is. I'd lay odds on a personality disorder. Then again I think that could be said of most people
who willingly take a up a career involving being shot."
"True, the reality is they get shot, then they come see us, we make them better so they can be shot
again. Ironic isn't? For frost it's almost to much"
Bree nodded, "Probably best if we don't push her in the direction of Counselor Dharma. I can't see
that ending well. Speaking of counselling..." He narrowed his eyes at Francois, "How are you?"
He started to laugh "You direct approach always amaze me, I would love to be more like you some
time. But to answer your question I'm better. Thanks for asking!"
"Good." stated Bree simply, "Not exactly the indepth conversation and reassurances about mental
stability I was expecting but good to hear all the same."
"Well , actually how about going to speak about in from of a pint of beer, if you have time of course."
There was an enthusiastic nod from Bree, "Always time for beer. Right now or do you have some loose
ends to tie up before going off duty? I've been off duty for hours. I left Tol and Carol with all the busy
work."
"I did the same with Vivianne and Mike, were good to go" he was joking but something told him that
Bree might actually be serious...
"Lead the way."
The doctor walk toward the door and made is way to a little pub "So what new on the Caly? and how
many casualties from the ha'agen?" trying to take is white coat off.
"Ah that's the beauty of the Caledonia." said Bree as he eased himself onto a seat, "There are so few
of us that I never have to deal with too many injured. At least our own injured. There's something to be
said for being understaffed."
"yeah, I completly agree." he smile he wave at a few girls then turn to Bree" a few friends of mine"
"Friends?" Bree raised an eyebrow, "There's a story there I'm sure, but I've been told gentlemen don't
kiss and tell." He signalled for some sort of service. "What would you like to drink?"
"Anything cold and that will take my head away from work" he wink.
Bree nodded at the bartended, "Anything approaching the 100 proof mark for me." He turned to
Francois, "How's BoB been after getting back from the MU? I'm guessing a bigger crew means bigger
losses to the Ha'agen."
"The station overall took a big hit and we had some casulties too, I think the hardess part is letting the
past stay in the past and concentrate on the futur." He gave a short grin "But I think we're moving in
the rigth direction, what about you?"
"Well I think the hardest part is keeping the wimps with bumps and bruises out of my Sickbay. After all
the serious injuries, and death, it's a little galling to have to babysit."
"I agree, so back to the Frost matter, I wonder how popular she is with the marines. Those guys like
pain but in a female format it must be another story don't you think? Seeing the bartender approach.
"Proof that the Marines aren't playing with a full deck if ever there was." Bree snorted.
He gave a short laugh "Beer, the biggest format you have please" waiting for Bree to order.
Bree took a hold of the unidentified spirit the bartender had and slugged it back. "That hits the spot.
There's definately something medicinal about this stuff." He regarded the half empty glass, "Better
than sitting back in my quarters writing reports."
"How about you, I fine doctor like yourself must have some women in the wheel by now.."
The Caledonia's Doctor almost choked on his drink, "Women? Oh no...no." He stopped and then
quickly, "I like women, but I'd prefer to keep my heart unbroken and within me, rather than torn out
and asunder."
"A guy like you, come on.." he gave him a small smile
"Besides, the Caledonia is small. The term 'There are plenty of fish in the sea' does not really apply.
How about on BoB? Is Romance a frequent event, like with those 'friends' you pointed out?" Bree
pushed the empty glass away from him.
"OH, those friend are ok but their just friends, still looking for the desaese call love" he took a large sip
"But this frost woman, been in your sickbay alot lately, mean is she flirting? That would be quite a
exploit a marine going out with the marvellous mysterious doctor form the Caly"
Bree's brow crinkled in thought, "I doubt it, only if people flirt by generallly being angry and
objectionable nowadays. A more extreme interpretation of treat them mean keep them keen
perhaps."
He burst laughing the beer exploding from his mouth to his left, he had manage to turn his head in
time "Good one"
Bree rubbed his neck, "Yeah...I'm pretty sure the only sparks that are flying there are produce entirely
by friction. Not the good kind."
"I meant to ask you I would like to see if you would be interested to review my work so far on herbal
healing, get your opinion. It's about using altenative medicine to kept valuable resources to minimum
by using homeground plant. I had three sucessful test so far, one being on a patient but if you could
help me or even test some of it too, I would really apreciate it." he smile "Something Frost could
actually do if she's still vonlunteering".
There was a wince from Bree as he considered the idea. He wasn't a big fan of the more herbal or
alternative treatments. He did however enjoy research. "Herbal? What kind of substances are we
talking about in your tests?"
"You see If you combined different species of plant of different homeworld then the result can be
beneficial and alot stronger then the one seen in the 21st century for example. You have to study it
almost at a molecular level to see the reaction it has.
"And that worked with a patient? It wasn't a placebo effect then?" Bree narrowed his eyes as he
started filing away the information. Sometimes herbal medicine did work. And even if it didn't Bree
would happily prescribe placebo's, ethics be damned.
"A placebo would suggest that the substance or procedure with my patient accepts as a medicine or
therapy but which has no specific therapeutic activity for the condition. Any effect is thought to be
based on the power of suggestion. I can prove that the mixture is actually a treatment and treat a
specific symptoms and not just giving them a sense of quick fix.
Bree nodded, "That could be worth testing further then. I'm sure I could find some volunteers. Even if
it's only Tol."
"Great but I may need your expertise from time to time."
"Right..." Bree stretched as he stood up, his back clicking as he went. "I think I might go and get a nap
while I still have time for R & R. I didn't get one nap with all the Ha'agen fuss. I didn't even get a decent
night's sleep. Thanks for the drink Doctor."
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
"Souvineers, novelties, paaarty treecks..."
"*What*??" Mulder's head snapped towards her open office door.
"Souvineers, novelties, paaarty treecks..." a grinning head appeared round the door. "Captain Mulder, I
presume?"
"Yes, and who the hell are you, acting the silly-ass outside my office?"
"Beg pardon, Captain, just trying to break the ice," a pasty-faced scrawny human male bounded into
the office, dragging behind him a large suitcase. His hair was slick and overly-gelled and his shiny,
cheap suit screamed 'Annoying Salesman'.
Mulder's was getting firm ideas about what *she'd* like to break if he didn't explain himself.
"Eh, yeah, " he was getting the frosty look. "Sorry, Captain. I'm Albert Gristle, Sales representative for
the Military Moppets Toy Company. I believe that your Public relations department arranged my visit."
Mulder groaned as the penny dropped. Awful man, awful name, awful sounding company. And yes,
she'd agreed in a moment of recklessness. "Come in, Mister Gristle. Sit down, don't do anything
unusual or comical, and explain what your deal is."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you.." he sat promptly. "I represent a company which manufactures all
sorts of toys, trifles and souvenirs for military families, and those who work away long distances.
Something for the family to remember them by."
"Such as?"
"Ah now I'm glad you asked," he opened his suitcase and produced an object with a flourish. "Allow me
to present the Memory Doll. The prefect companion to help ease those long separations."
If it had been the slightest bit inflatable Mulder would have thrown him out on his ear, despite her
promise to Admiral Brennan's put-upon aide. But it wasn't. All he produced was a very generic
genderless doll. Twelve inches high, sturdily built and ... colourless.
Instead of hair it had tiny translucent filaments. It's skin was a bland neutral, and it's eyes had no
colour in the pupils. It was dressed in an approximation of a Starfleet uniform, but despite the black of
the main jumpsuit the departmental coloured collar was plain white.
"It's not very..interesting.. is it?" she had to be blunt.
"Aha, now that's observant of you, madam," he twinkled and it put Mulder's teeth on edge. "Indeed
not. These are fully customisable. Now, your good self..." he picked the doll up and opened a small
section on the back of it's head. Producing a small thin stylus he said, "I just enter a code with your
departmental colour, and your rank and..." he tapped in twice, then six times in rapid succession, and
the white collar turned Starfleet Red, with four small gold spots for rank pips on the collar.
"Okay. How does that work?"
"It's a reactive fabric - not true fabric at all but a small portion of fibreglass with four basic colour
variations programmed in. Quite clever, yes?"
Mulder just shrugged. "Doesn't do much for me, I must admit. How is it supposed to be a memento?"
"Now we come to the really clever bit," he beamed. With the small control panel still open he held it
out to her. If you could just put your thumb on that metal plate there," he indicated a small recessed
metal surface barely half an inch square. "Then, you'll see."
Mulder gave him a suspicious look, but did it anyway. She held her thumb there for a few seconds until
Albert Gristle removed the doll and closed the little hatch back with a smirk.
Things..started to happen. The bland plastic skin began to take on the milky-white hue of her own
Jaz'Aarian skin. The eyes and lips darkened to match her own exotic colouring. And the hair grew - at
least, the fine filaments did, darkening as the extended to her own shade of raven. When they
stopped, Albert Gristle gave her a quick assessing look, then deftly swept the filaments into an
approximation of her own neat hairstyle.
"Actually, I suppose that does bear a passing resemblance," she had to admit. "How does it work?"
The skin covering is a patented material developed in our own laboratories. It reacts to the DNA of
your thumbprint, extracting just enough information to mimic the various skin tones and hair colour
and eye colour. So simple, but so effective."
"And you do.. what with these? Sell them?"
"We like to give one to all the senior officers of the facilities we visit as a goodwill gift, and then word
gets around, and we sell to all who want one."
"Shouldn't that be the other way around? Since officers are more likely to be able to afford them than
Crewmen?"
"Ah, yes, very humanitarian of you Captain. But it's Company Policy, you see.."
"Hm," Mulder gave a disapproving little look. "And what do people do with these dolls?"
"For some, it's a vanity. Their own personal Action Figure. For others, it's something to send to their
families. Children love having a mini mummy or daddy to keep with them whilst their patent if far
away."
"Okaaaay.." Mulder looked dubious. "And they're not going to hypnotise us with sudden unexpected AI
sentience and send us all mad, are they?" She knew all the pitfalls..
"Uh, no, I really don't think so."
"Only one way to find out." Mulder wrenched the head off the Mulder-Doll. All that she saw was the
circuitry inside the head and a hollow torso. "Nothing wrong there. What about... they aren't all going
to start walking around and terrorising the base like a mini Army of Death, are they?"
"Uh, you could always pull their legs off if they did that.." Gristle looked bemused.
*CRACK* "Oh yes, so you can.." Mulder tried to stuff the leg back. "Right. Just making sure."
[ARE YOU MY MUMMY?]
"What the hell was *that*?" Mulder almost jumped as the thin little androgynous voice sounded.
"That's the talk-box. They're programmed to say twelve choice phrases. Kids love it. But this batch..
um, they only manage one phrase each."
"And don't tell me, that's the ones you're giving away free..."
"Got to make a profit, Captain. Waste not, want not. They're free at least."
"I suppose. And then when other crew see them, they want one as well, and buy them.. and you make
your money that way."
"Exactly Captain. I wonder if I might go and tout my wares now? And catch up with your excellent
officers to offer them a free doll? The Admiral at Headquarters said you'd be helpful.."
"Yes. Alright. Just.. don't make a nuisance of yourself." Mulder waved him impatiently out of the room.
Once he had departed, along with his sample case, she put out a call to her officers, "This is the
Captain. You may find a small greasy man approaching you to give you a free doll. Please don't beat
him up. he's not a pervert, he's someone that we're obliged to accept a gift from, thanks to some PR
crud going down at SF HQ. Actually, they're quite amusing, in their own ridiculous way. And they're
free. So please be polite to him and grab your freebie. Mulder out."
She looked at the doll, and the doll looked back. [ARE YOU MY MUMMY?]
"Any more of that and I'll be throwing you in the dog basket for Sherlock to play with," she warned.
The doll stayed silent.
=/\= USS Pendragon - Main Engineering =/\=
[Previously] ......."The Captain ordered us to prep for firing the main battery when we arrive. It draws
energy straight from the warp core and we'll be without shields and life support for about 30 seconds
afterwards because of the energy drain. If the Orions are going to get in, it will be then." The
Lieutenant smiled broadly. "That's assuming of course that our salvo doesn't cut their ship in half!"
"Roger that, Chief!" Szabo turned around so that all of the Nomads could see him. "You heard the man.
Get ready for incoming."
"Thirty seconds to arrival," came the call from the lower level. The Chief Engineer directed all of his
personnel around the work spaces as they prepped for the firing sequence.
Szabo dropped his face shield, obscuring his face behind the featureless piece of equipment. With
practiced ease, he grounded his brand new Mark VI combat rifle and drew the bayonet off of his left
hip. Slotting it onto the end of the rifle, he locked it in place and then disconnected the shoulder straps
so that he could swing the rifle easier if it came to close combat.
"Fifteen seconds!"
"TEN!"
"FIVE"
"FOUR"
"THREE"
"TWO"
The Chief Engineer didn't bother saying 'one' as it was pretty obvious to everyone when the ship fired.
All of the lights dimmed out and the emergency lighting popped on. There was a bustle of commotion
and energy from the engineering staff as they sprang into action to restore their ship's systems. The
Nomads were left in the dark in sealed combat suits with only their thoughts to keep them company
for the moment.
[and now, the adventure continues...]
Fidoe flicked his eyes open. How stupid had that been. To close them. His gaze darted left and right. He
was still here, right? He hadn't snuffed it all ready?
Jack's arm touched Fidoe's and he nodded. He thought he'd seen something. No ... maybe not.
Simm felt himself move as if in slow motion, even though it could have been barely a twitch. He drew
in a sharp deep breath, as if he could smell the enemy through the oxygen recycler.As if he could see
them through the darkness, letting his inner senses take over.
Akira worked his survival knife into a small gap between bulkheads right beside him and drew up his
gun. His eyes darted all around the level below, taking in as much as he could, as quickly as he could.
He wished that if the Orions were going to come, they would just pop up already. He felt he could
handle himself in a fight, but the waiting was driving him crazy.
Xavier blinked a few time before realising this was it, it was time. He slowly grab his knife try not to
think of what was to come. He wanted instinct and training to kick in.
"Stay frosty, kids," Szabo said over their helmet comms. He stalked around the front of the ring,
surveying every inch with the built-in optics. He switched between thermal, low-light, and computerenhanced-standard rapidly, looking for anything that remotely looked like a threat to either his
Marines or the ship. "Szabo's got nothing," he reported after moment. "Corporal?"
"Saw something, Sir," he said. "Out of the corner of my eye."
"Where?" Szabo shifted toward that side of the ring, but didn't cross the imaginary line that he'd
drawn. Boudreaux had command of half of the ring and if Roman crossed over there it would not only
undermine the Corporal's leadership but would leave his own side bereft of a commander.
"Toward your position, Sir," Jack said. "Nothing concrete. Just enough to keep me suspicious."
Szabo slipped to the edge and looked over again. "CHIEF?"
"Can't talk, Ell-Tee, we've got to get this ship back into fighting trim!"
"Roger that." He wondered what Jack had seen. It wasn't anything that was interfering with the
engineers. At least at the moment. "Time for Plan B. Corporal, take command of the whole upper
walkway." He looked at the first three pairs of Marines that were closest to him. "You six, on me."
Quickly, he jogged to the aft section and gave a friendly helmet slap to both of the Marines there
before launching himself over the side in a barely controlled fall to the lower engineering level.
"Yes Sir," Jack said. "Keep your head down Lieutenant."
Jack had a funny feeling. He hoped it was just lunch. Irregardless, Boudreaux changed his position
moving along the upper walkway. "Keep alert, Marines," he said. "Lieutenant's on the move."
Fidoe watched, and hummed. Chewing his gum still, he puckered his lips into various Elvis-esque pouts
and gurns. Suddenly he found himself thinking of 'The life of Brian," and started to hum under his
breath.
"Yes sir!" Xavier move forward and kept formation, always follow the commanding officer, they lead to
action.
*****
Simm just grinned to himself as he felt Szabo's hand connect with his helmet. ~I knew he liked me~ he
thought, the moment temporarily pushing back the simmering battle-readiness he'd built up. As he
followed Szabo down to the lower engineering level, he let it flood his veins again, keeping it ready and
waiting for whoever was going to be unlucky enough to be on the receiving end.
Using hand signals, Szabo split the team up; two stayed behind at the ladder, two went to the right of
the warp core and he led the last two to the left. It felt weird, hunting for a ghost in the middle of a
bustling engineering space.
Unfortunately for him, Akira wasn't one of the ones selected by Szabo. He could only watch as the
others left to meet the threat head on and his best chance to prove himself strolled away. Internalizing
his disappointment, he showed no outward signs and maintained a careful watch on his surroundings,
and that of the advancing marines below.
Without any warning, all of the lights snapped back on throughout Main Engineering. As they did,
Roman caught a fleeting glimpse of green skin in his peripheral vision. "PORT SIDE!" Instinctively
swinging his rifle in a butt stroke, he connected the stock of his rifle into an Orion's face. The pirate
dropped straight down towards the deck with a broken nose and jaw to which Roman added a
smashed orbital socket as he drove his knee into the falling man's head. Moving on automatic, he
reversed his rifle and stuck the bayonet through the pirate's back until he felt the point hit the
duranium plating on the other side.
*****
Jack waited and listened, following the action. At his position, things remained quiet. Then he turned,
"Bonnenfant, behind you."
Spinning around toward Bonnenfant, Akira saw an Orion levelling a gun at his fellow marine. He quickly
fired off a shot, which would have been quite lethal, had it hit its mark. Instead of making contact with
the pirate's center mass, it struck home in his hip. As rushed as he was, Akira was surprised he hit him
at all. Either way, the pirate had lost the grip on his gun as he clutched his wound and left himself open
for Bonnefant.
"Good shot," Jack said.
Bonnenfant took his knife and took it down hard on the Orion who let a small cry but left the man
surprise that he didn't scream harder. "Thanks"
"You owe me lunch," Akira said with a grin.
"Sure as he threw his knife a few inch from his new friend to hit the enemy in the forehead "So do you"
he smile "Give me some cover I need to get my knife as the opponent fell a few meter away.
Jack watched and listened to the conversation, eyes alert for any more movement around them.
"Oh fer the love of mike," chuntered Fidoe. That meant doing some macho, full of bravado, he-man
type of things.
******
Roman recovered and dropped to a knee, scanning the rest of the deck. He saw another pirate and was
getting ready to fire when one of the engineer's brained him with what was probably the largest
spanner ever made. With the two Marines in tow, he charged over to support the engineer and
realized that the gold-shirt didn't need any. The Orion was on the ground and bleeding profusely from
a jagged tear where his scalp used to be connected to his skull. A quick glance at his tricorder told
Roman that the Orion was still alive. Barely. "You two, bind him up and notify Security that we've taken
a prisoner."
Simm had been one of pair directed behind the warp core, and as he moved silently he was aware that
Ratty was his buddy down there, mainly due to the sniffle of someone coming down with a perpetual
cold that he heard over his internal comm. He touched the younger man on the arm, and felt him
jump, so increased pressure to indicate he should stay put.
That was all in darkness, but he knew that there was someone there. The hairs on the back of his neck
told him so. That was when the lights snapped back up...
...and brought him face to face, almost literally, with an Orion. Both men were surprised, but Simm
recovered first and head-butted the enemy, drawing back his bayoneted rifle as he did so, and with
one fluid movement swept it back up and across in a vicious arc, slicing through the man's neck in a
deep, clean cut that nearly took his head of his shoulders. He saw the spray of arterial blood in slow
motion, ducking to avoid the worst.
Unlike Ratty who caught full spread and gave a strangled yelp of disgust.
The Orion stood for a second, dead already, before his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. "Check
him," Simm away kicked the modified phaser that had skittered a few inches away from the Orions
hand. As Ratty did so, he scoured around him, but he knew the area was clear. Still, he double checked,
alert for any more.
Looking around, Roman could hear what he would term, 'a slight scuffle,' coming to an end. "Nomads,
report! Any casualties?"
"Upper walkway clear, Sir," Jack said with his southern drawl. "No injuries that weren't green."
"No casualties here, sir," Simm called over. "One dead Orion though." He didn't mention the small
skating rink of blood. The engineers could clear that up. He worked dispatches, not janitorial.
He could hear the continual stream, Fidoe was comforted by the voices. Indicative of people still being
alive. He started to pace, and whistle, reaching into his back to pull out the sharp tipped bayonet blade
and remove the dark bootpolish that was under his nail. "All was look on the bright side of life," James
whistled the refrain as he looked up, he had to squint.
But that was a smudge. Another one, and this one looked nothing like Simm, The Gaffer or Jack.
Reaching for the pistol that was tucked into his belt, he had no time to fire. Instead it whizzed like a
boomerang through the air and clunked something with a thud. The shooter was novelty. It went bang
all right, just not in a straight line. It was curved like a small banana, and best aimed around a pillar or a
bulkhead to skew the direction and confuse the life out of any would be prey . Times like this, it had it's
uses. It had bounced after impact and ricocheted away from a deep dent that had impacted at an angle
on the scalp. It was within reach.
"H'way lads, there's a toad in the hole," he said hurriedly into the comms. "Can I de-head it like a
camellia or not?" Fidoes' words were punctuated by his deep breaths as his boots were thudding along
towards the felled victim.
"LOCK IT DOWN," Szabo's voice roared in all of their helmets. "Cut the frakkin' chatter and secure this
place. RIGHT THE FRAK NOW! MOVE!"
"Or maybe not, thing's just concussed," replied Fidoe sprinting passed the concussed looking pirate to
kick his gun back into his hand. "If the damn thing just stopped moving," he said as he hopped behind a
bulkhead, and trained the barrel of the gun at the gash. "Stop, moving, like a girl..."James poked his
tongue out as he closed one eye, his cheek pressed against the bulkhead. It was not pretty, if only he
decide to pull the bleedin' trigger.
The tip of the thick, sausage like finger eventually met with the curved edge of the trigger. As though
the air was viscous jelly, the bullet didn't take long to travel through the air with a sharp hiss. A curved
trajectory that made for a straight through and through from around the bulkhead and through a
beating heart. Leading to blood splatter that looked as though it had come fireworks night sparklers.
As the pirate landed with a thud, half a squawked groan, James Fidoe let his thin lips dance into a
satisfied smile. "Pleb down," he spoke into the relay, and boy, was he chuffed. The first time he had
managed to hit something. Woof was pleased as punch.
******
Still in his combat gear, minus the helmet which was tucked under his arm, Szabo stared through the
forcefield at the prisoners. "Not talking, eh?"
"No," Lieutenant Erzarch said as a pair of his tactical crewers put the last one into a cell after the
interrogation was a bust. He glanced at the Marine and grinned as he looked back at who they had
determined to be the highest ranking Orion. "But, then again, I probably wouldn't be too talkative if I'd
just found out that my ambush got ambushed."
Roman smiled and walked up to the cell. He kicked the forcefield so that the whole thing shimmered.
"Have fun at Rurapente, pirate. The Klingons are decided less cordial than we are." He turned and
walked by Erzarch. "See you at dinner tonight?"
"Aye. Maybe I can win back that fifty you got off me at blackjack last night."
"I'd say your odds are somewhat less than the chances these fellas have at becoming the prison
doorknobs."
******
John-Boy grimaced as he cleaned his bayonet. Killing at close quarters was a messy business and Orion
blood was particularly gunky. What was with their DNA? Extra coagulant?
He hated being the new kid on the block. The operation has been quick and clean, from what he could
tell - and he also figured there was a whole lot more to it than met the eye. With a cynical mind and a
nose for suspicion, he wondered what the real story was.
Sitting on his bunk, helmet donned and visor down was a gloomy Akira. First and foremost in his mind
was his overwhelming disappointment in his performance. Of course, he was happy that none of the
marines were injured or worse, but to be given an opportunity to show what he was made of and to
choke was just unforgivable. Luckily Bonnenfant had acted quickly enough to finish what Akira had
started, and then save the greenhorn on top of that. He could only hope that when there was a serious
fight, he would do better.
Bonnefant was looking to Akira, the man had maybe save his life by being quickly and foremost being
alert. He had no clue of the scum close to him as much as he like finish the enemy of , he did because
the man sitting across him reacted. He respected that, he felt that he could turn his back especially to
him and feel that against any odds he would be safe.
The corporal watched them and smiled. Those two would build a partnership that would keep them
both alive. "My work is done here," he said to himself.
Weapons cleaned, Jack leaned back and closed his eyes. Crawfish. He wanted crawfish.
Fidoe had unwrapped some fresh gum, and was chewing the curd as he polished his boots again. There
was something distinctly therapeutic about a clean up.
A second later, Jack was on his feet. He'd had that creepy feeling.
Roman stepped into the barracks section and looked around. "I'm sure you all have some questions, so
let me try to answer them." He sat down on the edge of a stack of footlockers. "I just sat through a
debriefing with Lieutenant Wix and Commander Brisdon. The Pendragon has been working this sector
with a pair of Klingon corvettes for the past two weeks. When the distress call was received the
Klingons cloaked and shadowed the Pendragon in. Short version. The Pendragon arrived, cut the Orion
raider nearly in half with the first salvo, and that's when two more raiders decloaked and sent over a
pair of boarding parties set on stealing dilithium, weapons, anything that wasn't nailed down." He
grinned. "And then our own cavalry decloaked and shot away the engines of the raiders. The Klingons
took them with their own boarding parties. There weren't many prisoners taken," he added as an
aside. "Anything else that I didn't answer?"
John-Boy knew he shouldn't make a squeak, but his mouth had already started to open. So he'd been
half right. It *had* been a trap, only it was a double-cross trap. And they were the guests at someone
else's party that had been handed a bunch of firecrackers to play with. He figured that the Pendragon
crew had definite Orion issues after their thumping last year. "Sir, would it be fair to say this was
something of a cojones-reclamation exercise?"
"No, it wasn't Private." Roman folded his arms over his chest. "This was a message to the Orions.
They've been far too active on the fringe of Federation space for far too long. They needed a reminder
that Starfleet is not to be frakked with." He stood up. "And it was also something of a good, old
fashioned beat-the-ever-loving-shit-out-of-something exercise." He cracked his knuckles. "It's good for
the soul. You need to kill something every day, no matter how small, just to stay in practice." He
walked out, slapping his hand above the door as he went.
Jack had a little trouble not laughing. He definitely had trouble not smiling. Then he had a terrible
impression he might have to make a report. That smile faded.
Szabo stuck his head back in the open doorway. "The Pendragon needs to make a resupply stop earlier
than projected so we're heading straight to BoB rather than finishing the last of the patrol circuit. We
arrive tomorrow, so get some rest tonight." He disappeared again.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Bridge =/\=
In her ready-room, Chess checked the time. Ten minutes before departure, she had time to place a call.
"Starfleet Headquarters. Admiral Chris Bishops Office," she told the automated comm system.
In less than a minute, Bishops appeared. "All is well, I trust, Captain?"
"Indeed, Admiral. We're just about to depart." Chess paused. "Before we go there's a few things I need
to ask. Firstly, there is Lieutenant de Carabas...."
Bishops held up his hand, "Captain, right now that is naturally a sensitive subject. I would prefer to
hold comment until I read your full report on the entire case history."
"Very well," Chess knew that it was complex, but that wasn't entirely the reason for her call. "The thing
is, Admiral, with Lieutenant de Carabas now departed, that leaves me without a security chief for this
mission. Which, I'm sure you'll agree, is going to be quite inconvenient - given the nature of what we
are expected to achieve."
"I would agree with you, certainly. And I have some good news. A candidate has become...
unexpectedly available for the position. He had been given his transfer orders and is scheduled to
rendezvous with you en route to the Deva Loka homeworld."
"Really?" Chess looked suspicious. Beware of Admirals bearing gifts. "That's good news indeed.
Although, a rookie security officer might find this a little too much to handle..."
"No rookie, Captain. This officer is a Lieutenant, the same rank as your departed officer and can move
straight into the position."
"And... will I be sent his details? His service record?"
"I would assume that his current commander will see to that, Captain," Bishops was at his most
urbane.
"You aren't going to give me any further information, are you?" Now Chess was *really* suspicious.
"Let's just say.. that I'm sure he will be an admirable and fitting addition to your crew." Bishops
smirked. "Now, was here anything else?"
"Just one thing. I've been thinking over the events on Deva Loka and it struck me, suppose there *is*
some sabotage from the outside? Is it possible that there are valuable mineral deposits to be mined
that the Order of Po aren't aware of? That sort of thing has been the cause for many incidents of a
potentially violent nature all over the galaxy, greed being what it is."
"It's a good hypothesis, Captain, but the answer is no," Bishops shook his head. "I can assure you that a
thorough survey was done over a century age before the Order was allowed to purchase the planet.
Starfleet and the Federation are very aware of matters like that, and it wouldn't have been sold if there
had been anything worth having there."
"But that was a long time ago. Surveying equipment is more sophisticated now.." Chess began.
"I know. Which is why we had the crew of the science vessel USS Typhoon check it out when they were
in the area a month ago, Their orbital scans revealed nothing whatsoever of any value on the
landmass. So the theory won't fly, captain. But that you for taking the time to ponder on it."
"Eh, it was worth a shot." Then something else occurred to her, "Admiral, if you had a ship in the area a
few months ago, why didn't they go down and start investigates then?"
Bishops pulled a face, "Because the captain of the ship was Caitian. And so was the science officer."
Seeing Chess's look of puzzlement he clarified, "Their version of impurity extends to other species that
are not as humanoid as most. The Caitans because of their strong and clear feline heritage, and other
examples would be Gorn, for their lizard evolution, or the water-breathing Aeroni due to their piscine
heritage."
"I see..." Chess raised an eyebrow. "I suppose we'd better be careful the ship's tiger doesn't beam
down with us then."
"That.. would not be a good thing to happen, no."
"Well, Admiral, thank you for the additional information. You have actually given me a bigger clue
about my new incoming security chief than you intended."
Now it was Bishop's turn to do the raised-eyebrow thing. "How so?"
"In light of the need for sensitivity of species attending, then the new security chief is clearly neither
Gorn, Aeroni or Caitian, or any race with similar non-humanoid appearance."
Bishops nearly laughed out loud, which was unusual for him. "Ah, Captain, very clever. But I think I can
honestly say that indeed, the species of the new security chief will give the Order of Po no problems at
all. Quite the reverse..."
On that cryptic note he ended the call, leaving Chess somewhat more puzzled than before. But no time
to dwell on that now, it was time they were off.
Striding back onto the bridge, she saw that Lamarr and Richards were in their positions and all preflights would have been done.
"Helm, lay in a course for the planet Deva Loka, on the co-ordinates supplied," she entered the details
into her own computerised panel.
"Course laid in," Richards said, giving Jinti and odd look. Unusually for the exuberant Helm Chief, she
didn't seem at all eager to be off. Normally she'd be clawing his hands off the comm...
"Take us out," Chess ordered.
Jinti just sat there as if she hadn't heard, until Richards discreetly took control, "Undocking complete..."
As if waking from a sleep, Jinti clicked in and took over the steady ebbing away from the station until
they had reached the statutory distance for warp safety.
"Let's get going, we need to maintain a good speed," Chess said briefly. "Ahead warp factor four.
Engage."
The Caledonia did her tradition jelly roll as the warp bubble enveloped her, and then was swallowed up
in a streak of light as she set out on her new mission.
=/\= SB BoB - Promenade - Cafe Rouge forecourt =/\=
Arihana was about to take up her position for the first half of the morning. She had some admin to do,
and didn't fancy sitting in her office. She was poised with a carafe of hot tea and a stack of raspberry
and white chocolate Danishes. Slicing down the middle, she picked up a paper before she set about
doing any *proper* work.
Albert Gristle wasted no time in scarpering from Mulder's office and called up a list of the BoB officers
onto his own Padd from the station's public access files. He checked faces and acnned the passing
crowds. That coffee smelt good... the he spied a target. Checking against the Padd he approached.
"Excuse me Madam. Would you be Ms Arihana Dharma?"
"I would be Dharma, yes," replied the counsellor without looking up, wiping a crumb from her mouth.
"Counsellor Dharma, yes, what you after?"
"I have something I think will interest you," he tapped his sample case. "Don't want double glazing, ta,
neither do I want paving or better still, a conservatory," Arihana still didn't look up, as she glanced
carefully at a article in the paper.
"Aha, but this is free.."
"Take a seat, then, I can give you the time of day," she replied, flicking a page. "As in ten minutes, make
it worth my while, if you don't mind."
Albert Gristle looked quite offended, and added a silent note beside her name on the Padd. "I believe
the Captain authorised my being here and speaking to you?"
"Yep, she did," Arihana looked from her paper, and flicked it closed. Since this was on the say so of the
powers that be, Arihana was obliged to give it her full attention. "Albert Gristle, or was it cart'lidge?"
she paused to consider."
"Yes, I am Albert Gristle, sales representative of Military Moppets, and I am on a goodwill visit to your
station to offer special gifts to serving military personnel."
"Gifts?" asked the counsellor, a wry smile spreading across her face. "I had thought there was no such
thing as a free lunch."
"Do you have children, Ms Dharma? If so, I have something they will love, and think of you every time
they play with it."
"I do, yes," Arihana chuckled. The chap was lowballing, and trying to get his foot in the door. "And yes
please, anything that will keep Junior from sticking his fingers in sockets."
"This will keep him enthralled and fascinated," Albert Gristle promised. He almost believed it too, but
not completely. He wasn't a bad man, Albert Gristle wasn't. He worked hard, travelled long hours for a
modest wage, and hoped his sales totals gave him enough latinum at the end of the month to put
some away for that little Condo on Risa that he and the missus had always dreamed of owning.
He knew the products were quite a novelty, and even if the quality wasn't as good as some of the more
upper end manufacturers, they were good enough. Besides, once kids started playing with them, they
didn't usually last long before they were missing limbs or eyes anyway. So he believed his products
were satisfactory in reality, but in sales parlance they were his meal-ticket, so he lost no opportunity in
bigging them up.
"Open your mind to the possibility of something revolutionary in Action Figures," he oiled.
"I'm open to anything, keep a broad mind," she nodded, "Not too broad though, so, please go on."
"All I need is a few moments of your co-operation and it shall be done."
"You're not going to sign me up to some time share nonsense are you?"
Arihana asked, reaching for her tea. "Nothing that will keep me hock til I'm drawing my pension."
"Quite the contrary, madam. I'm giving away, free, a doll..." he withdrew the blank, neutral doll from
his sample case, whipped off the little panel on the back of it's head and entered the code for Blue
Collar and LtCmdr Rank. Instantly the shirt colour changed along with the correct rank pips showing as
little dots of yellow and black. "There, one uniform replicated."
"Ye-eah?"Arihana slurped her tea, her brow furrowing in both worry and curiosity.
"This is just the start, my good lady." Around them, a small crowd of interested onlookers was
watching. "If you please, place your thumb into the small space there so it contacts with the metal
plate. Just for a few seconds."
Arihana stretched out her hand, thumb flexing as though preparing for thumb war before. The digit
pressed against the metal plate, and there was palpable tension.
"The DNA is extracted from the minute sweat residue on your finger, and just the basic information is
fed into the reactive outer material. Here we go..." the colour was already changing, the doll's skin
flushing gently to match Dharma's attractive olive skin tone, the eyes darkening, and the translucent
filaments growing, flooding with a dark shade that matched her hair colour perfectly. Once the hair
had stopped growing, her deftly swirled it into a growing-out of a bob, just below her ears, to match
Dharma's style.
"Finished." He presented it to her with a little bow. Around them, the crowd gave a little 'ooooh' of
surprise and approval at the appearance of the doll, now unmistakeably and absolutely Dharma.
"Holy jose, saint stevie gee....." The words were puckered over tea that was choked back down her
throat.
"The free version has a random speech phrase that activates, well, randomly. But these excellent dolls
are available to purchase today, at the unbelievably low price of only twenty strips of latinum," he
announced to the crowd. "The purchased version speaks up to twelve random phrases, you never
know what it's going to say next, or if it'll repeat itself. Just like having a real child in the house," he
chuckled.
At that moment the Dharma-Doll made it's presence felt. [WHEN'S DADDY COMING HOME?] is spoke
in a little-girl voice.
"It is complete," Gristle said happily, as the crowd broke into a smattering of applause.
The counsellor was momentarily stunned, and had visibly blanched. The mug of tea was slammed
down with some effort. The carafe bounced, and the mug itself shattered.
"THAT-" Arihana jabbed her finger sharply at the other her. "That-THING-is an abomination. Have only
just got rid of one doppleganger. Where's the panel," she stood up and went to have to look around
the back of the doll.
"Where's the battery box, Cart'lidge?" she asked rummaging.
"There is no battery box," he sighed. "It's sealed once it's been activated shut to stop children
tampering with it. And the name is Gristle. Albert Gristle"
"Cart'lidge, gristle, whatever," Arihana grumbled, her fists curled into balls. "There is only one Arihana
Dharma. That is me," she continued.
"That, that is a complete fraud, and I DON'T LIKE IT."
Some of the civilians watching snickered at the Counsellor's outburst.
...."Temper, temper." ...."Rude little girls don't deserve a dolly"...
Albert Gristle wondered what on earth was the matter, "Why on earth wouldn't you like it?"
"Means I can be cloned, left right and bleedin' centre." Counsellor Dharma uncurled her hands. "Nice
idea, will make someone rich. But it's 'orrible. No, no thank you!"
"No, it doesn't mean you can be cloned. If it was a cloning device we wouldn't be giving it away for
free," he was feeling rather aggrieved. Who was this woman to try and scupper the one little bit of
trade he'd managed to get, the one steady job he had. Kid gloves off, he leaned towards her and said
quietly, "Listen, lady, I've got a job to do and I'm here with permission from the top. You don't like it,
fine. Stick it in a cupboard in your office or something. But pipe down and stop making such a scene."
Arihana snarled. Who did he think he was? To come here and tell her what to do. This was her turf. She
was about to tell him, but"I'd like one," A burly crewer from one of the border patrol ships moved forwards.
"Me too," a little engineer followed him. "Yeah, my nipper will like that, he always says how much he
misses me."
A young couple also got into line, exchanging shy looks, clearly thinking of one as a gift for each other.
Albert Gristle gave them all a beaming salesman's smile.
"I'm going to leave your doll with you, Counsellor," he muttered sotto voce to Dharma. "Please take it
with you when you go."
"Go whistle," Arihana grumbled, eye balling the doe-eyed carbon copy that stood there, all very
innocent and as though butter wouldn't melt. "Have a nice life, Cart'lidge. Anymore of those, it may be
a short one."
Albert Gristle just shrugged. There was no accounting for taste. He doubted a dolly could help *that*
one to chill out at all. Still, not his problem. He shepherded the crowd gently aside, away from the
counsellor, "I've got plenty to sell right now, and can take orders as there's plenty more on my ship.
Form an orderly queue, please..."
"I really don't like you," Arihana snarled at the doll, poking it at the collar bone. A statement perhaps
more psychologically profound than she realised. She had no idea what she was going to do. One thing
she did know though, and for certain. She hated the carbon copy, and with a passion.
Albert Gristle sold half a dozen dolls very swiftly, and was well satisfied.
He realised if he could generate sales like this with all the officers then he would be well on the way to
making his target. It was always tight competition, trying to be salesman of the month. Plus with that
jammy git Reginald Trivet as his main competitor it was extra hard. Reg Trivet had the Earth/San
Francisco area as his sales pitch, nice cushy home from home number.
And after that business with the Rear Admiral's daughter getting lost on a school field trip and the
rescuers only finding her, unconscious after a fall in the woods, due to her Military Moppet dolls voice
that kept sounding. ...Well. After that, the orders from anxious parents had just flooded in, and the
Hero Dolls had sold like hot cakes, completely trashing his own hard-won sales that month. It wasn't
fair. Reg Trivet got to sell to Admirals and wealthy officers families. He was always sent to the back end
of beyond.
But the reassuring clink of latinum cheered him anyway, and he stored his profits and went in search of
the next punter.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
"So how's my favourite daughter? I'm glad that unpleasant business with the Patrician has been sorted
out. Or at least... for now...." Reuben Mulder's face on the commconsole screen gave a sympathetic
smile.
"Yeah, Pa.. that's still sort of hanging over me," Mulder admitted. "But hey, I'll worry about that when
the time comes. It's good to hear from you. Where've you been recently?"
"Back on Jaz'Aarius, m'dear. Your mother and I have been enjoyed a rather nice holiday. We're actually
on our way to Earth right now, got to check in with the ancestral home, y'know."
"You heard about Cade?" she said abruptly.
"I did, child," her father said quietly. "It's not going to be easy for him, but his family are looking
forward to welcoming him home, as you can imagine."
"I'm sure.." she murmured, then sighed. "That sounds mean. It's just... I'm going to miss him."
"I understand that, gal. But hey, your mother and I manage just fine."
"I know, Pa, and that's why I'm feeling okay about it. At least, as okay as I *can* be.." she broke off, as
her father was adjusting his watch-strap rather awkwardly. "What's up? Hurt your arm?"
"No, no.. it's just this wretched watch strap," he unbuckled the antique time-piece. "The leather is torn.
I shall need to get it repaired."
As he spoke, he removed the watch and stretched his wrist, and Mulder caught sight of the small
tattoo on the underside of his wrist, just a blur of blue ink, and it made her catch her breath in her
throat.
~Oh no.....~
She knew what it was, of course. Cade had something similar and so did all his family. The mark of The
Patriots. Secret Society, Bringers of Justice and all that jazz. And it never failed to sting that her own
father was part of it. She *hated* the Secret Squirrel stuff with a passion, especially after everything
that had come to light over the past few years...
What was it, two years ago that she'd first become aware of the Patriots? When flamboyant film
producer Rupert Velvet had brought his Hollywood production team to the station to film a re-make of
'The Greatest Sacrifice', the most iconic of the classic war-films featuring the ill-fated Starbase Sigma
and it's self destruction during the Dominion Wars over thirty years ago. The selfless actions and
sacrifice of the crew to prevent the station falling into the hands of the attacking Dominion and Breen
forces. And yet, Rupert Velvet had wanted to re-make the film showing the heroes to be cowards who
collaborated with the enemy.
That was when the threats started. That was when the actors and crew were told that if they
participated in such a disgraceful slur on the good names of those who had given their lives, they
would suffer for it. That was when some younger, renegade Patriots had infiltrated the film crew and
started their campaign of terror that had nearly gotten the station blown to pieces if it hadn't been for
the bomb-disposal skills of Sergeant William DeZusa... and that was when the Patriots had been
captured, and in the dead of night executed in BoB's brig...
Still only a handful of her most trusted officers knew that Vaughan had been personally responsible for
the execution, and it was never spoken of again. But back then, of course, she hadn't know that Cade
Vaughan himself was a Patriot, as were all his family, and in a Masonic kind of way, had been for
centuries...
All that flashed through her mind as her father carefully replaced his watch, and then looked directly at
her.
He knew she'd seen the tattoo, because he'd wanted her to see it.
And then she realised that he was trying to tell her something. Or was about to. Something that he
didn't want to say directly over an open channel. Damn. ~Please not again. Please no more of the
Patriots~ she silently thought.
"So, then," he tugged the cuff of his shirt back down, "How are you doing in yourself? Watched any
good movies recently? You ought to relax more, child."
What was he trying to say? "Uh, not much chance to relax around here, Pa.."
"Have you watched The Greatest Sacrifice yet? I sent you a copy of the new release for last
Christmas.."
This couldn't be a coincidence.
"Not yet, Pa. I've got a whole stack of movies to play catch-up with," she said guardedly, hoping he
would give her a clue.
"You ought to watch it soon, child. They're making another film that will be out next year - the true
story of Commander Sonia Carter and Colonel T X Malone. What happened to them after Starbase
Sigma was destroyed and they became the prisoners of the Breen."
Mulder knew. She'd seen the ending to the film that could never be reproduced on film. Unknown to
the historians, the XO and 2XO of the starbase, Malone and Carter, had tried to barter their own lives
with the Dominion Leader, for the safety of the Starbase. But they'd been betrayed. The station had
been destroyed anyway and the two officers handed over to the Breen, where they were kept in
captivity together for over thirty years, whilst the rest of the galaxy had believed they'd perished in the
explosion.
And then, The Patriots had somehow discovered the fact, tipped off by Breen Dissidents who were
against their Government's hard-line insular policies. With the support of the dissidents, the now
elderly Sonia Cater and T X Malone had been sprung from their prison, and a motley crew of Breen
ships had raced towards Starbase BoB, intercepted by the USS Enforcer and other Border Patrol ships
who thought the unthinkable. They thought that the Breen - for so long the 'silent race' - had decided
to invade.
Of course, it had all come clear when the dissidents explained their true purpose and the Enforcer had
given the ancient ramshackle Breen ships an escort to BoB.
There, in the Arboretum, the mystery guests had been beamed aboard and Mulder remembered
feeling honoured to witness the return of two such legends. They had travelled on to Earth, where they
would live out the rest of their days in freedom and peace - still as much in love with each other as
they had been thirty years ago. It had kept them strong, and they had never revealed any Starfleet
secrets.
"Hello? 'Sirri?" Reuben could see his daughter had drifted off into a daze.
"What? Oh, sorry Pa, I was just remembering the filming. And the ending. Mad times.." she said
hurriedly. "Anyway, they're making a film about the true story now? I'm sure it'll be very moving."
"Indeed. It was true justice that they were freed. We owe quite a debt to our friends who helped
them."
"Probably friends of yours, Pa.." she said pointedly.
"Oh no, not our own little circle," he gave a calm smile. "Lots of people helped."
"Eh?" it had only been the Breen Dissidents that had helped, and Mulder opened her mouth to say
that, then saw the look on her father's face, and the words died. That was what he was hinting at. But
why? What on earth could the Breen have to do with anything at all? "Oh, yes, I suppose so.." she said
vaguely.
"Anyway, your mother sends her love, and we'll be in touch again when we get to Earth. And we'll be
sure to keep an eye out for Cade, and see if there's anything he needs."
"Yeah, just look after him for me, Pa," she could feel that the enigmatic train of conversation was
closed now.
"I will, and you'll have to look after that station. It'll be your responsibility now," there was that look in
his eye again.
Mulder was puzzled beyond words. Bu she just gave a dutiful smile. "Me and all my officers, Pa. Team
BoB, remember?"
"I don't think anyone could forget," he gave a dry chuckle. "Goodbye for now, my dear. Take care."
"Bye Pa. Love to you and mother."
The comm screen went blank and Mulder was left to puzzle over the strange shadows beyond the
conversation. Now what on Earth had her father been alluding to? Should she mention it to Cade?
Maybe it was something he already knew about. In that case, why was her father telling her?
Then she thought she understood part of it. maybe her father didn't *want* Cade to know. There was
something Patriot-related and she had to be the one to pick up the baton now. Perhaps The Patriots
had decided that Cade needed chance to recuperate first. Or maybe... they were just dividing their
forces, separate messages.
~Ah crud,~ she thought. ~I hope it's nothing serious. Some trivial issue maybe... I don't know.~
Time would tell. Whether she liked it or not, she was entangled in the Patriot Game, and there seemed
to be no escape. Time after time.
"Come on, boy," she whistled to Sherlock. "I need to go for a run. Clear my head."
=/\= SB BoB - Promenade =/\=
Quide slowly walked along the promenade, heaving heavy sighs left and right like grenades. He was in
a kind of mood that would usually warrant a drink, but it was actually drinking that had caused this
mood in the first place. He had been perfectly content, or so he thought, and had gone to get his
alcohol-blood content up to its normal levels, only to discover that every drink, from cheap beer to the
most expensive liquors, all tasted like piss water. Either a malicious someone was following him around
from bar to pub to tavern, filling his glasses with unsavory liquids, or he just really wasn't in the mood
to drink. He knew full well it was the latter, and he also knew full well why.
Albert Gristle was on a roll, and he spied his latest officer candidate coming from the other side of the
storefronts. Turning around smartly, he slid up un front of him to cut him off him and clapped a hand
on Quide's shoulder. "Aha!" he boomed happily.
So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts, that Quide didn't see the oncoming man until he nearly ran
into him. He looked up just in time and jumped back with a quick shout. "Don't y'know better than to
sneak up on people?" The lieutenant shouted. "I could 'ave been a marine, for all y'knew. Might 'ave
snapped y'ead clean off as a gut reaction." He stopped to consider that for a moment. "That's the sort
o thing they go around doing, isn't it?"
"Marine? Marine? My good sir, you are wearing a red collar," Gristle had jumped back smartly at the
shout, too.
Quide waved dismissively. "I could be wearing a red collar as a disguise. Y'ever think of that?" The
lieutenant sighed. He knew he was being a bit rough on the poor guy. Stepping around him, Quide
started back on his way. "Look, I'm sorry, but I 'ave a lot o aimless wandering to get done. My plate is
full up."
"I know your face, sir, I have it on my list of lucky candiadtes for a free gift."
Stopping in his tracks, Quide turned around, his natural curiosity getting the better of him. "What kind
o gift?"
"Your captain sent a message to all her officers to tell them to expect me. I, sir, am Albert Gristle, Sales
Representative for Military Moppets, and this is your lucky day." he moved a few steps to rest his
sample case on a bench by the ornamental fountain. "Behold," he swept a blank, neutral coloured doll
out of his case.
A few onlookers stopped to watch, having already heard about the earlier doll-drama with Dharma.
"See, sir, we give away a doll mememto to all the officers on a station and then, well, word of mouth
sir. Good sales, happy customers. Think of it as goodwill to all our brave military boys and girls."
"Huh," the lieutenant said simply. While not put off by this typical salesman, it clearly wasn't a gift, so
much as a sales gimmick. Not that it was a secret, but it kind of ruined the whole enjoyable 'I'm here to
give you a gift' vibe. "It's really rather... dull, isn't it? Was the manufacturer too strapped to afford
dyes?"
Gristle was already opening the control panel on the back of the doll's head and tapping in the code for
Red Collar, rank LieutenantJG. And so it appeared, the white collar changed to red and the rank
insignias glowed yellow hollow and yellow full. Now the uniform looked the real-deal.
"Now there's a neat trick," Quide said, slightly impressed.. "Is the rabbit out o y'at bit next?"
"Next, your thumbprint if you would oblige," Gristle indicated where Tom should place his thumb.
Quide glanced around at all of the fascinated onlookers and gave a small grin. Just because he was
having a bad day, couldn't help out this poor sod who was just trying to make a buck. He produced his
thumb with a flourished motion of his arm, showing the digit to all those gathered as though he were
proving there was nothing up his sleeve, then pressed it to the metal plate in the doll.
Immediately the DNA was decoded in it's simplest form and the translucent filaments of hair darkened
to QWuide's shade of brown. The skintones changed in a subtle shimmer into his human hues, and the
eyes became a perfect blue match. It was indeed a Tom Quide Action Figure. The watching crowd gave
a smattering of applause.
A surprised gasp came from Quide, and it was only slightly embellished for the sake of the crowd - it
was a pretty nifty trick, after all. "That's quite a doll y'ave there, sah."
"This is for you, sir. A gift from Military Moppets," Gristle gave an oily smile. "For your own
entertainment, or to give to a loved one to remind you of them whilst you are away. And they talk,
only one random phrase, but of course the fully paid for version comes loaded with a dozen random
phrases."
At that moment, the doll activated. [I'M THIRSTY] it said in a little-boy voice.
Quide blinked at the small figure as he took it. "Thirsty, are ya? 'Ee does take after me, doesn't 'ee?" He
held it up beside his face and turned around to show everyone in the crowd. He came back to face
Gristle and offered a friendly smile. "Thank y'for the gift, sah." A sudden realization dawned on him
and he quickly added, "I don't suppose there's any way o tweaking the voice to make it sound a mite
more like mine?"
"Sorry sir, no can do. It would cost a lot more than twenty strips of latinum for that level of
technology."
Quide looked a little disappointed, but quickly recovered. "It's still a great little figure, though, and
rather dashing too, if I say so myself. Well, thank y'again." With a quick wave, he was off."
"You are most welcome," Gristle beamed. At least this was *one* satisfied officer. Turning to the
crowd he spread his arms wide, "And now roll up, roll up ladies and gentlemen. You too can own one.."
the crowd surged forwards.
Making his way toward the nearest turbolift, Quide took the time to show a few people he bumped
into the doll and pointed them in the direction of Gristle. It was a shame that Jinti had left already, or
he might have given it to her as something to remember him by. If he stopped and thought about it, it
seemed a little egotistical, though, to assume someone would be happier having your likeness around,
but he didn't stop to think about it, so it wasn't an issue.
Anyway, if he wanted to give it to her when she got back, he'd rather it at least sound like him. Reeds
might be able to do something with it - he seemed good at fenagling with electronics. At least it said
something that was remotely similar to what he would say at any given time of day, so there was no
need to blow his drinking money trying to buy a doll that may or may not say anything more fitting. It
sort of took his mind off the source of his previous melancholy attitude, though in a way, it made him
think about it more, but at least he was doing something now.
=/\= USS Scramasax =/\=
Only a month out of an extended stay in space dock, the Scramasax had been fully repaired from its
previous captain's 'poor decision making', and refitted with a few perks of modern technology - like a
racquetball court. It had also been given a new captain and XO, as the previous captain had left in a
body bag and the XO had left in a straitjacket. All in all, things were looking rosy.
"Status on the... thing," the new captain requested from the comfort of his refurbished chair, complete
with cup holder.
The captain, Bjorrn Svifelhelmendorn looked every bit the seasoned Starfleet captain. His strong
features and alert eyes struck confidence in those around him, while his numerous facial scars lent to
an air of mystery. He was the finest captain in the Border Patrol. Well, these were his opinions anyway.
"We be gainin' on the source of the *ion trail, cap'n* the helmsman, a career ensign named Scurve
informed him, his tone not conveying the proper respect of station that the captain felt he deserved.
But Scurve didn't look like he respected anyone - especially himself. He was a portly, smelly, unshaven,
middle-aged man with unkempt grey hair, a lazy eye, and a missing ring finger on his right hand. The
latter two issues could be resolved medically, if only he thought the pursuit was worth his time.
"We be gainin'," echoed his co-pilot, a crewman named Tim McCaw echoed. His drastically pointed
nose, lean features and rainbow-dyed mohawk, and stubby frame all lent themselves to his name well.
"Shut yer squawk hole, McMimick," Scurve grumbled.
"All right, all right," Bjorrn said in a tired, disinterested tone. "Just let me know when we catch the ship
that left it." Not one to be bothered to watch the screen himself, Bjorrn threw his left leg over his
armrest and leaned back, grabbing up the Pibb Xtra can from his custom installed cup holder.
The shipped was rocked by a sudden blast that caused the captain's soda can to go flying and spill all
over the tactical officer, a stony klingon lieutenant named S'kar who didn't even bother to wipe herself
off. "We've found the cowards," she growled.
"My Pibb!" Bjorrn said pitifully. His eyes narrowed and he straightened himself in his chair. "Shields up.
Come about to face them, and vaporize the bastards!"
The Scramasax turned sharply, bringing its torpedoes and primary phaser banks to bear. When the
viewscreen came to look upon an Orion warship that, while large as far as their warships went, was
hardly as sizable as the Scramasax. Be that as it may, it had a rather nasty look to it, and seeing it
bearing down on his ship - or more importantly, him - with weapons charged took the wind out of
Captain Bjorn's sails.
"All right," he said nonchalantly in the general direction of his communication's officer, a bored looking
young man with a complexion two shades too pale, a build that was just a little too skinny, and hair
just a little too black - like the light around it was actually being sucked in and suffocated by the
blackness. "Verbal warning. Make it harsh."
"Cap'n?" the Scurve inquired, looking over his shoulder.
"Cap'n?" echoed McCaw.
The S'kar began muttering something that sounded very unkind in Klingon - though little does tend to
sound rosy when spoken in Klingon - but the Captain cut in with a knowing look and a sagely tone.
"Don't underestimate the stopping power of a cutting remark." He turned to his comm officer. "You
can manage cutting, right?"
"It took me years of counseling to stop, but hey, if it's an order..." came the depressed sounding reply.
"See?" Bjorn gestured to the dreary youth as he sent over a signal. "That's wit. That'll fix them."
"They're replying," the dark young comm officer sighed.
"Already? Great! On screen!" Bjorn ordered confidently.
"It already is," the other sighed.
"Oh sea barnacles," Scurve muttered.
"Oh..." echoed McCaw
The captain spun around to the view screen in time to see a full spread of torpedoes screaming toward
the Scramasax. "Evasive maneuvers!" he shouted.
"Where be ye expectin' me to evade to?" Scurve growled back irritably, gesturing at the the torpedoes
flying in, in a wide blanket.
Suddenly, shots rang out from the Scramasax's torpedo bays and several were fired in a narrow cone
directly ahead of the ship. There was a blinding light on the view screen as the projectiles detonated
themselves in the path of the most threatening of the incoming missiles and destroyed them. This was
followed by a near deafening "Q'plaa!" from the tactical station.
"Yes, do that," the captain quietly ordered retroactively, clearing his throat.
The danger wasn't over yet, though. The ship was rocked constantly by blasts from the Orion weapons
batteries. Consoles fizzled, circuits sparked, and the captain's discarded can of Pibb rolled to and fro.
"We've lost phasers," the S'kar intoned angrily. "The targeting computer is down as well."
There was a woosh that signaled the opening of the turbolift doors and from it shuffled a rail-thin
woman with purple skin, neck-length dark blue hair and a raised crest on her forehead that was purple
on the edges, transitioning to yellow in the raised center. She sort of looked like a bipedal, humanfaced unicorn whose horn was cut off right before the Primary Colors Fairy went to town on it. Odd,
sure, but accurate.
"Status," she stated simply to no one in general.
"We're under attack, Commander Illa" S'kar stated in a tone that was wholly more respectful than that
she used with the captain. "The phasers are gone. Targeting is down"
"Captain?" Illa asked as she moved further onto the bridge. She seemed to be caught in slow motion,
walking at a snail's pace. Her pale blue eyes were the only thing that were moving with any speed, as
she looked around from the view screen, to the various officers, and the captain.
"Knock yourself out," Bjorn said without hesitation to the unasked question.
"Fighters," she called over to the comm officer. "Evasion."
The comm officer sighed, but did as he was asked. He fully understood what Illa was asking, not
because he was versed in her verbal shorthand, but due to the nature of her physiology, which allowed
for telepathic 'suggestions' of complex ideas based on verbal cues. It was a limited ability, and not
much more than a time and energy saver, since her telepathy was a one way street, being unable to
read the other's mind, as well as being limited to those who understood her verbal cues.
"Aplha Three," she called over to Scurve, having nearly reached her XO chair. "Close."
"Aye," came the relieved reply as he began the selected evasive maneuvers and trying to work his way
closer to the Orion ship on one of its flanks.
Finally in her chair, she looked over her shoulder to tactical. "Point blank."
S'kar simply gave a pointed-toothy grin and turned her attention back to her console.
A handful of interceptors soared from the flight deck of the Scramasax and bolted toward the Orion
warship, weaving around wildly to avoid the incoming fire, firing a pot shot or two when they could of
phasers or their mini torpedo casings. Meanwhile, the Scramasax rushed in while the warship's fire was
divided between targets and maneuvered into firing position...
"Computer, end program," an irritated voice commanded.
The fighters, ships, and people all faded away, leaving only a confused looking Commander Illa sitting
in the middle of a standard grid-lined holodeck. Captain Bjorn stood in the corner, hands on hips, head
shaking but eyes never leaving the now annoyed looking woman. She slowly - and I mean slowly climbed to her feet. Well, she began to anyway, but before she managed it, Bjorn sighed, casually
walked to the center of the room, and pulled her up.
"I don't have all day," he said, his voice much less hard than his words. "Which will be my first critique
on your performance in this command simulation. It took you over half an hour to get from your
quarters to report to duty on the bridge." Illa looked like she was about to protest, but he quickly
continued. "I know, it's your physiology - I got the explanation from Dr. Riley. Your metabolism is
slower and you don't produce the slimmest fraction of the energy we do, but I know for a fact you can
hurry in short bursts - I saw you sprint to the front of the line on chili dog day in the mess hall."
"But after," Commander Illa contested with an embarrassed grin.
"You were too tired to eat it, and you were hyperventilating so badly we had to take you to sick bay,"
he groaned upon remembering. "By the time we got back, all of our dogs were cold. Thanks a lot for
that by the way. Anyway, I'll authorize you to make liberal use of the sight to sight transporters to
travel any distance greater than, say, one hundred yards. Otherwise you won't get anything at all done
and that'll make me look bad."
"Thank you," she said, sounding both relieved and extremely grateful.
"Speaking of making me look bad..." he began, gesturing wildly around the holodeck. "What the hell
was up with the holo-me?! Why couldn't you just program me to be unconscious or something. You
had to make me look like some kind of useless jerk?"
"Sorry, captain," Illa said, not having the heart to convey to him that the computer based the actions
and personalities of the command crew based on their actions to date.
"I'll let it slide this time," Bjorn said magnanimously. "And otherwise you did pretty well. I'm glad to
know that that if I'm ever disabled, dead, or else struck with a debilitating case of stupidity, the ship
will be in good hands. Now let's get something to eat. All that observing made me hungry."
"Prepared today?" Illa asked as the pair started down the corridor, the captain having to slow to a
crawl to allow Illa to keep up.
"Let's see..." Bjorn flipped through his mental calender. "It's Star Date 07.10, so... What do you know?
It'll be chili dogs. How's that for coincidence?" The captain had gotten a little ahead of the commander
and turned around to see her reaction, but was met with the sight of her shimmering away into
nothingness. "Well she didn't waste any time putting that to use," he muttered as he sprinted down
the halls, attempting to make it to the mess hall before all of the dogs were gone.
=^= Pigs =^=
Baxter Mattingly was looking over his hot chocolate and extra double-rich chocolate cake, which he'd
been examining since Jyan Chera dropped off a piece at his table for him to try.
A shadow fell over his table and he said, "Shazza, tell me again why Jyan put this on my plate when I
wanted one of your father's desserts."
"Aha," a rather oily voice sounded. "I recognise that face from the officers list."
Baxter looked up.
"You must be Commander Mattingly," Albert Gristle gave an unctuous smile.
"Your CO advised all her officers I would be calling."
"I think I missed that memo," Baxter said. "Just who are you?"
"Ah, Commander.. You're trying to trick me. You know very well to expect me. I am a man who has
come to give you a gift. Tell me Commander, have you ever had a doll?"
"I have one now, Bub," Baxter said. "My wife. She's not available and I'm not in the market."
"Ha ha ha, very droll," Gristle gave a false laugh. "This is a toy doll."
"What kind of doll?" he asked. "I'm expecting a baby."
"Toy. As in, play with or display. A replica doll of you, Commander."
"That's probably too adult," he said, "but you know, I bet my wife would like a doll of me to stick pins
in."
He didn't give the false laugh again, instead he brought out the blank doll from his sample case. "Now
let's see, Commander. Yes.. gold for security.." he had opened up the small panel in the back of the
doll's head and tapped in the code. Immediately the colour on the collar changed. "There, that's the
start. Your personal uniform and rank insignia."
"That's pretty good," Baxter admitted. "What next?"
"Now, we customise it to make it look like you." Already there was a small crowd gathering around the
table. BoBers were never slow in coming forward if free entertainment was to be had. "Commander,
place your thumb on that small patch for two seconds." He showed Baxter the metallic input panel.
Baxter did as he was told, half expecting an explosion. This was BoB after all.
Immediately the doll started changing and there was a ripple of amused enthusiasm from the crowd as
they saw their favourite security chief being dolled before their eyes. The hair slithered into the exact
length as Baxter's and subtly changed colour to become Baxter-Blonde, and the eyes became a twinkly
blue. The skin colour shifted to pick up Baxter's tones, and when the colour settled, Albert Gristle gave
a few deft flicks to style the hair.
"There, Commander. A mini-chief." The crowd applauded.
"That's amazing," Baxter said, taking the doll. "What else does it do? Can it talk?"
"Indeed it can." and right on cue, the doll squeaked [I'VE BEEN GREEDY] followed by a boyish giggle.
"How do you have to handle it?" Baxter said. "I mean can you ignore it, put it on a shelf? Or do you
have to talk to it like some of those fancy dolls with long-life batteries?"
"It's set to random play," Gristle explained. "It increases spontenaity, we found. Although I'm afraid
this is just a free sample so it only says one phrase. The full version - available for the amazingly low
price of just twenty strips of latinum," he addressed the crowd briefly, "Will speak up to twelve random
phrases."
Then he turned back to Baxter, "And this is for you, Commander, with our compliments."
"I've got just the place for it," he said.
"Excellent."
"Say, why are you doing this?" Baxter asked.
"Goodwill, Commander. We of the Military Moppets Novelty Company like to bring some joy and cheer
to our boys and girls serving Starfleet all over the galaxy. With these dolls you can share a little piece of
yourself with loved ones left behind, or simply keep it to amuse your department. We find that a little
bit of fun goes a long long way."
"That's very nice," Baxter said warily, "thank you."
Already the crowd were starting to mill around, several of the off-duty crewers looking eager to buy.
"There's plenty for all, ladies and gents," Albert Gristle was looking remarkably pleased at the thought
of so many sales, so quickly. "Roll up, roll up.."
"You seem to have attracted a lot of attention," Baxter mused.
"Enjoy, Commander," Gristle gave another unctious little smile as he walked outside of the restaurant
to find a suitable spot to start selling, followed be half a dozen prospective purchasers.
Baxter looked at mini-Baxter and smiled. He'd put him in the office so that he'd always be watching the
security crew at work. Later, if Yus needed something to squeeze really, really hard, he'd give her miniBax.
Then he went back to his hot chocolate. "I wonder if that guy has a license to do this," he said to
himself. "I'll have to check ...."
=^= BoB - Cargo Hold 9 =^=
Baxter Mattinly was sitting at a round table with 10 captains, merchant captains for the most part,
however, Jyan Chera was there.
"Gentlemen, ladies," Baxter said, "it's not like you haven't been warned."
He put three objects on the table and pointed to each of them. "Malvechi laser rifles are illegal. PartyPretty is illegal. And the herb, Herb, is illegal. The herb opened its eyes and winked at Baxter.
"Now Herb is catching a ride back home tomorrow and the other items are now mine," Baxter
continued, "but they're getting onto this base somehow and that somehow is one or more of you."
"Nonsense," Jyan said. "I trade in legal goods only."
"Correct," Captain Trinia replied. "We all know better."
"Well, you don't know better," Baxter said. "All of you have had run-in with the law on other worlds for
smuggling. Some of you have lists that would fill my files. I don't care about that, however."
"Then why are we here?' Capt. Fitz asked.
"You know why," Baxter said, "although some of you are new. Let me explain. NO ONE BRINGS STUFF
LIKE THIS TO MY BASE AND LIVES TO LEAVE."
The captains blanched.
"You have freedom of trade here," Baxter said, "you have freedom to come and go with minimal
inspections and usually there are no questions asked. I don't raid your cargoes unless I'm looking for
something specific. Don't give me something specific to look for and we'll all be happy."
Baxter leaned forward. "If I see any of these objects on the base again, I will close you all down."
"You can't do that," Capt. Droll said. "It would be illegal."
"Yes, wouldn't it," Baxter said. "How long have you been under the impression that I follow the rules
anymore than you do?"
They all looked at each other.
"But you're the second officer," Capt. Droll countered.
"Yes," Baxter said, "and I love to feel the power of that one." There was a slight smirk on his face.
"Oh, one other thing," he added, "whoever is distributing the posters of Capt. Mulder in a bikini has got
to stop. I think I've gathered them all up before she saw any of them, but you people are treading on
dangerous waters here."
"She's just a woman," Capt. Fierce said. He was kicked by the female captain beside him - hard.
"Not only is she the most feared captain in the universe," Baxter said, "but she has marine power and
security power behind her. Get it?"
"Got it," Jyan said, wishing he'd thought of the poster himself.
"Dismissed," Baxter said.
One by one the captains filed out until Jyan was left standing by Baxter. "Why include me?" he asked.
"I haven't been off base for four weeks."
Baxter grinned. "I just like bothering your Chera," he said.
Jyan grinned. "Your wife's cake will be ready at 1300."
Baxter nodded and watched him leave. From out of the shadows, three security crewmen appeared.
"Sir," one said, "would you really do those things?"
Baxter smiled. "I'd toss their behinds in the brig," Baxter said, "but let them think I'd do whatever
horrors scare them. What they're bringing here are horrors. Come on, Herb, we've got a ship to catch."
He grabbed the herb gently and headed to the dock.
=/\= BoB - Infirmary =/\=
François was reading some reporst when he heard the Captain's voice over his commbadge. ^^"This is
the Captain. You may find a small greasy man approaching you to give you a free doll. Please don't beat
him up. he's not a pervert, he's someone that we're obliged to accept a gift from, thanks to some PR
crud going down at SF HQ. Actually, they're quite amusing, in their own ridiculous way. And they're
free. So please be polite to him and grab your freebie. Mulder out."^^
He laugh "Since when Am I not polite?" as he look at the nurse in front of him.
*****
One hour later, a man appeared at the door of the Doctor's office. Without looking up Francois said,
"Nurses will be with you in 5 mins , please see the technician at the door." With a cheery voice hoping
the man would eventually go.
"Ah, but it's not the nurse I require, good doctor, It's you. I believe your captain advised you that I
would be calling? Albert Gristle, at your service. With a free gift for you."
"A gift" now he was curious.
"Indeed, a free gift couresty of Military Moppets, supplying mememtos for the servicemen and women
of Starfleet." Albert Gristle brought out one of his basic uncoloured dolls.
"A doll, I'm a bit to old for doll don't you think?"
"But wait until you see what it does," Albert Gristle beckoned him to step out of his office so they were
in the main Infirmary, where a few nurses and medics, along with some of the patients that could walk,
all started to watch.
"Now first, the doll becomes a blue-shirted Lieutenant Commander," Gristle had taken off the back
panel and inputed the details. Lo and behold, the collar and pips duly changed to the right colour.
"That's just the beginning."
He kept his eye focus on the doll waiting for more.
"Next, this will transform into your good self. If you would please place your thumb on this small
sensor patch here...."
He was spetical about putting his tumb there but afterall it was captain orders "Alrigth"
Immediately the colour washes started to happen. The translucent hair darkened, the skin flushed to a
healthy colour, and the eyes took on a twinkling match. Even a shadow of a goatee beard appeared on
the face. It really did look uncannily similar to Francois.
The nurses and patients gave a little cheer of delight.
"Wow, that was unexpected" he looking at the doll and pass it around the infirmary. "How much?"
"It is free to you, doctor. And I shall be selling them also to any of your staff and patients who would
like one. Either keep it yourself as a novelty or give it to a child or loved one so that they have
something to remind them of you."
"Their more?" acting almost surprise..
"There is more, indeed," Gristle gave a grin as the doll started to activate. "It will come with a random
phrase that speaks from time to time." At that moment the doll did indeed 'talk'. [I DON'T FEEL VERY
WELL]
There was a litle chuckle from the onlookers at the strangly appropriate phrase.
"Then step in my office" he responded with the laugh of the crowd. "Thank you sir and I'll let you know
if anyone request it. Any bigger formats?"
"Ah, no, indeed. That might be improper," Albert Gristle looked amused.
"I see" he smile and walk back in his office with the doll. Le lost french would had need of bigger
format for the lonely souls...He started laughing..
There was a little surge as the crowd around Albert pressed forwards, and he happily opened his case
to sell. More customers. Excellent.
=/\= En Route to BoB =/\=
As the NeghVar class warship vaJ, commanded by K't'ar, son of Martok, made the last course
correction to take them to Starbase BoB, James entered the quarters of his adopted brother, K't'ar.
"Good evening, brother," he said, smiling at K't'ar. Throwing his brother a jug of bloodwine, he smiled.
"I thought that we could have a drink. In the name of the glory of the Klingon Empire, I propose a
toast." K't'ar poured twoglasses of bloodwine and handed James one. "To the Empire and the vaJ. If
not for you, i'd be bound for hell instead of gaining another chance to enter Sto-vo-kor."
"A noble sentiment," K't'ar said, smiling. Downing their glasses, they poured themselves another drink.
"Tell me, brother, how can you stand being mistreated like that by that worthless peta'Q you call a
general? I've heard about the Nomads. If it was me, i'd have gutted the bastard where he stood."
Downing their drinks again, K't'ar doled out another round and smiled. "To your generals, may they be
eaten by Targ."
"That's something that I can drink to," James said. Downing his glass, he looked at K't'ar. "Do you think
we'll have a chance for one last sparring match before I get dropped at BoB?" Taking a raw Targ leg
offered by K't'ar, he smiled at his adopted brother. "After all, I've got to have a rematch. I almost had
you last time."
"Sorry, brother," K't'ar said, frowning. "As much as i'd like to show you up again, there's no time. After
you eat that leg, you'd probably better get to your quarters and get packed." Smiling, James bit into
the leg, ripping a large chunk out of it. "Fine, but next time you visit, you'd better be ready for that
rematch so that I can hand you your butt." Shaking hands with K't'ar, James walked out, targ leg in
hand.
After gathering his gear, James walked down to the Klingon shuttlecraft that K't'ar had told him to
take. Entering it, he found that several klingon weapons were loaded into it, along with a bottle of
Bloodwine and a note. 'Brother,' the note said, 'Sorry that I can't see you off. Take my personal shuttle
and these weapons. Maybe they'll keep you alive until we can spar again. May your Bat'leth and d'k
tagh drink your enemies' blood.' Taking his seat at the shuttle's controls, he launched and set a course
for StarBase BoB
=/\= S.B. BoB-Deck 6 Shuttlebay =/\=
As the Klingon shuttle K't'ar gave him docked at Starbase BoB, James gathered up his gear and
strapped his Bat'leth to his back and d'k tahg to his ankle. Walking out of the shuttle, he nodded to the
deck hands that were securing the craft. Hearing his stomach growl, he cursed about the fact that he
didn't get more Targ meat from the Klingon ship before leaving. "Hey," James shouted at a hand. "Is
there anyplace that serves good food on this starbase?"
"Sure," the deckhand said. "There's a place called Pigs in Space on the Promenade. It's got the best
food on BoB, even though that's not really saying much." Laughing, he pointed at the door to the
turbolift. "Take that one. It'll get you there quicker. And tell Shazza that you'd like the special Nomad
tour. When she's off, she'll show you wonders that'd make a Betazed drool."
=/\= SB BoB - Pigs in Space =/\=
"Almost finished, Ma," Shazza wiped down the last table. Shift change-ver was always their busiest
time and as soon as the ravenous hordes had departed, there was a quick clear-up.
"No worries, love. I'm in the kitchen doing the accounts," Mrs Comfort's elaborately coiffed head
peered around he door. "You cover for anyone coming in for me, okay?"
"Sure. But I've got to get back to the lab in half an hour," Shazza called back. "Go an experiment
running."
Her mother had already disappeared and Shazza gave a quiet chuckle as she bounded over to the
counter to replace the dishcloth.
Maybe have a quick coffee too.. she debated with herself. Dressed in a short black pleated skirt with a
black ripped 'Slipknot' t-shirt, her black hair in two pigtails, she was in full goth mode. The fishnets and
clunky black combat boots just added to her usual eclectic appearance.
Quiet music hummed over the intercom from Radio BoB as she sang quietly along with the latest hit.
=/\= Promenade level/Pigs in Space =/\=
After being told about Pigs in Space, James boarded a turbolift and ordered it to stop on the
Promenade level. Stopping near the restaurant, he got off and walked to the door. Looking around, he
smiled when he saw Shazza.
"Hello," he said. "My name is James. I'm new to the station." Reaching out, he kissed Shazza's hand
gently.
"You what?" Shazza almost snatched her hand back. "Uh, yeah, hello James," she withdrew her hand
sharply. "Welcome to BoB." She took a few steps back from him. "Nice to meet you," she added almost
as an afterthought.
Taking a better look at Shazza, he smiled. "And it is a pleasure to meet you," he continued. Dropping
his gear and unstrapping his bat'leth, he smiled. "I just got here from Earth. Hitched a ride from K't'ar,
son of Mardok, aboard his ship, vaJ." Making sure that none of his skin showed, he rubbed one of the
scars on his arm absentmindedly. "Nice guy. We fought together against the Orions."
"Everyone fights against Orions around here," she said briskly. "And the Ha'agen. And the Trinn'Toa.
And the Colsus. And the Mirror Universe. And the... well, you get the picture."
Blushing for a moment as one of the scars around his wrist from the restraint became exposed, he
smiled. "Forgive me," he said smiling. "It's been a long time since I've talked to anyone, much less a
beautiful lady like you. I've forgotten some of my manners. What is your name?"
"Bit of a charmer aren't you?" she gave him a slightly suspicious look. "I'm Shazza and my folks own
this place. I think we're the best eatery on the station, but then I'm biased. There's loads of other great
places to eat too." She was trying to be fair.
Half-listening, James started to secretly check Shazza out. "Perhaps," he said, smiling. "But I think that
this place'll be more up to my tastes."
"Well, for a start, there's Manhattan Moonlight just down the way. And for snacks Cafe Rouge does
nice stuff. There's a Tapas Bar on the Lower Prom Level, and a Mexican place, and a Chinese takeaway.
And then there's Universal Exports -Italian and pricey but fabulous," she ratt;led off.
"There's loads more. It's quite surprising at first when you find out just how many great places there
are to eat here. But it's a busy station, so there's always good trade. So, what'll you have?" she
indicated the menu.
"Got some targ?" he asked. "And some bloodwine?"
"Sure, I'll get it ordered. Pa will have to do a special order, but he does keep some proper authentic
ingredients in for our resident Klingons." She gave him a curious look. "You say you're new to the
station? New civilian or new crew?"
"New Nomad," James said, frowning. "I was assigned here after striking the General that left me to die
in Orion space four years ago. If not for my adopted brother, K't'ar, I'd be dead." Smiling, he reached
out and gently stroked Shazza's butt. "I was told that you give special tours to new Nomads."
"WHAT THE HELL???!!!??" Shazza yelled as her hand drew back and - *SLAP*
"You ever do anything like that again and I'll serve you up on a plate!" she shouted, furious.
Reeling from the impact, he stepped back onto a piece of meat and slip. As his feet went up over his
head, he frowned. "I never should have listened to the deck hand," he growled. "I'll shove my disruptor
up his ass." Cracking his head on the floor before the rest of his body unceremonially joined it at your
feet, he looked up. "Sorry." Gathering up his gear, he scampered towards the door.
"Sorry?" she shouted after him. "SORRY?? You wait 'till I tell my boyfriend. he'll make mincemeat of
you." Or Colonel Vaughan, she thought angrily. That cheeky new marine was going to be in BIG
trouble...
=/\= SB BoB Dharma Quarters =/\=
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of this years
But you still have
All of me
Arihana was taking a moment. Suraj was off on a science and engineering club excursion in the
arboretum. He was being kept out of trouble. Having a domestic moment, she was sat in the lounge
sorting her sons' laundry. Clothes. Lots of little clothes. Suraj was a growing kid though, and soon
everything would be too small.
Sweatshirts that he would covered in glue, pasta shells. A t-shirt, one in red, blue and white that had a
sun motif on the front.
How he had grown. From being that little pupae thing that had disappeared at thirteen days old. The
fatty little chunky monster who had arrived here on BoB as a strange three year old.
She had missed everything, and it hurt. Arihana had no idea. What his first words were, when he had
taken his first steps, or how he had acquired a taste for tuna fish. There was so much that she had
learned, that Suraj was still teaching her.
Socks. Was there some kind of Sock faerie? Her socks always matched.Suraj seemed to love his odd
socks. Never ever had a pair that matched. Whenever she tried to get his kit together for the next day.
He never had a paird set of socks.
One, two, three. Three football kits. Two of which needed replacing. How did her son, Suraj, all what a
foot and a half of him, end up playing in midfield? He could run. There was no doubt of that. Kid could
take anothers leg away in a blink of an eye. That was a point. he was playing in the under sevens now,
since he was going to be six in the fall. Woah, that was scary.
Suraj was loved. Not only by her, his mother. But everyone, or most people at least. The jury was still
out about the Captain, of course. That caused her to smile. Arihana knew that there had to be
something about the captain to make her amenable to kids. Other kids, if not Suraj. No one had to like
kids, or even like Suraj. But there had to be some hope.
So he need protecting. She was doing her best, but needed to do better. Get him a nanny, and make it
all a bit easier. There was a short list someplace. Arihana needed to get the commitee together
somehow. This wasn't about her. It was about Suraj. Her baby. her flesh and blood. Her child, her heir
and future.
Her baby. The one that had made it. The one that had not been snatched away from her permanently.
He had come back.
"Mummy, am home!"
Her idle reverie was broken as a tempest scampered in, and straight into her arms. Tipping clothes to
the floor.
"Been poking, slugs, and snails, and slimey whatsits," Suraj beamed.
"Did you wash your hands?" asked his mother recoiling.
"Whoops," Suraj declared, pulling a face to scamper away and towards the bathroom.
Her tempest. A little boy she loved more than life itself. So much, it hurt.
=/\= USS Industrious Dharma Quarters =/\=
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of this years
But you still have
All of me
"Fish face, sweetie, you gonna let me in?" Devon knocked on his daughters' door. He could hear the
strained sobs, punctuated by Lila trying not choke on her tears. He could get in all right. But that was
his little girl. She was ten, going on thirty.
Lila was sat in the corner. Her beautiful red hair was hacked to pieces around her pale, freckled face.
She had run home like a banshee. Her feet had barely touched the ground, and she had nearly sent her
father flying. The indy was on its way out, Persephone had decided to take quarters down the hall for
breathing space.
"Lila," Devon pressed his nose to the door, as well his palms. This was horrible. "I need to know what
happend. I can't read your mind, my little piranha fish."
Lila looked up at the door. That was new one.
"I'm coming in," Devon stepped back, and passed a palm across the door sensor. He walked into slowly
to the space she called her own. A room white washed with posters of some dude called Archangel.
Despite her fairly icy exterior and demeanour, the room betrayed lila as being a delicate creature who
hid behind a frosty facade.Devon stepped over a mass of red curls, and tutted. Slowly, He slunk to the
floor and sat beside her.
"They were horrible," Lila broke once again, to leap into her fathers' arms. "Daddy, they were so cruel."
She was almost gutteral in her sounds as she clung on for dear life.
"Dear Lord," Devon was struck. Struck by not only being called Daddy, but just how broken his little girl
was. Her face was feather with hair, her crowning glory had been hacked away violently. The beautiful,
radiant clash of blonde and brunette had been savagely torn from her scalp.
"They called me names, call me a retard, that red hair was bad," Lila sobbed, the poor girly was
shaking. "That my hair was a curse, that it had to go, that I'm a freak, and had to-"
"Sush," Her father was was feeling wounded for her. "My poor, little, piranha fish," he whispered,
pressing down the curls that remained. He was angry, and hurt. His own flesh and blood had been
badly brutaised. Had he not been sat here comforting her, he was inclined to find the little cretins who
had done this, and mete out some Dharma retribution. He would.
"Why me, it's only hair," Lila sobbed. "Just hair," she cried, painfully. "said it was ugly, and a sin against
nature," she was so fragile and shattered. This was not Lila. Lila the mini tornado.
"Don't you dare say that,Lila, you hear me?" Devon looked at his daughter, cradling her face in his
palms. At the one blue eye, with its hazel neighbour. "You are beautiful, that hair. Is a gift, not a sin.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Damn blondes nearly wiped it out, but it stuck around. Why,
'cause it's a fighter, a fighter like you. And no side eyed, spineless little craphole is going to tell you
other wise. Is that clear?" It was no Devons' turn to shake. Shake with rage. His balance had been
tipped.
Lila nodded, still crying.
Devon pressed his thumbs down fron her eyes, and wiping his hands on his trousers, scanned the floor.
Plucking a 'Sugar-Princess' padd covered in sketches, he placed in his daughters lap. "I want names,
Lila."
"What you gonna do?" she sobbed, picking up a candy floss coloured stylus.
"Something and nothing, my little piranha fish," Devon replied, stroking the odds and ends of red curls
that remained, before kissing the little girls crown.
***
As Lila slept under her pink fluffy duvet. Devon paced. Paced as he called the parents of the children
named. A handful of Indy Crewers that should have known better.
He was angry, and hurting. A swift punch of the wall hadn't helped. Times like this, he wished his
mother here. Growing up, he and Arihana had been strange kids. She wasn't your average girl, his
sister. She was a tomboy who felt as though her skin was crawling when she even thought about
dresses. How did you protect a little girl. Especially his own.
He had to get some form of retribution. He had to. Lila was his little girl, and she was loved. That was
all that mattered. She was loved.
-=- Vedas Hall, Urean Colony. Third right from Jupiter -=When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of this years
But you still have
All of me
Jevan gave a deep sigh as he sat in the leather bound scarlet chair worshipped the holofire. Above the
mantle, a home holo movie played. His wife was holding onto her hat as the windy beach air of
Skegness threatened to remove the straw crown of the hat she wore. The chubby pie face of a very
tiny Devon protuded from the carrier strapped around her torso. He couldn't have been more than few
months old. But he had wide eyes under a bonnet that took in the sea.
"Daddy, sea side, water and lots, and lots lots," a toddler came into view. A little girl, about two or
three years old. She was wearing a black and white dress that made her look like a mint humbug. A
dress that clashed horribly with bright green wellington boots that Arihana refused ro remove.
"Lots of water,Ari, that right?" Jevamn chuckled from the other side of the shaky hand camera.
"Am gonna go fis-ing," the nearly three year old told her father, waving a short hand held fishing net.
"Are you, pudding?" A female voice sounded, giving a tighly plaited pigtail a teasing tug. "And what,
pray my little monarch butterfly larvae, will you use to tempt the fishes hmm?" Roman bent to kneel
on the sand. Devon waved his chubby palms excitely.
"Use Deb," Arihana giggled to poke her baby brother. "he looks like worm," nodded Arihana, all very
seriously."Fatty, chewee worm thing."
Jevan was heard to chortle away, the camera shook. His wife tutted and shook her head. "But sweetie,
we only jus' got him," she did her best to not laugh."
"Me no like Deb," pouted Arihana, stamping her wellied boot. "Go Shop. Get New Deb."
"Yes, Arihana, we'll send him back," Roma looked at her husband, she was now clearly beside herself.
"We did keep that reciept, my darling baked alaska?" She enquired, giving a quick wink.
"Possibly, my treacle pudding. Twenty eight day return," Jevan stated, as the camera went to the next
frame.
In his present state, Jevan raised the glass of scotch into the air. "Happy Birthday, Roma." He inhaled
both liquid and vapour, smacking his lips with a sigh. "Sleep well, my little pear drop."
Back on BoB. The twelve inch Arihana clone gave a tinny chuckle.[I'M A DADDY'S Girl] is twittered. The
Adult Arihana picked up the marionette like thing, wanting to launch it at the wall. Only she stopped.
Was just like her. How could that be? That the universe had conspired against her to carry anything
female. Yet she was lumbered with this. How could that be?
=/\= BoB - Marine Deck Level 124 =/\=
Shazza hummed to herself as she carried the heavy basket. It was always a pleasant task, taking the
morning chow order down to the Marine Deck, and besides, Will had said he was on duty that
morning, so she knew that he'd be around.
It was lucky, so very lucky, that he hadn't been badly injured in the fighting. Every time she took an
order now, she felt a pang of sadness at the orders that were missing - regular orders from soldiers
who were now dead and gone.
But her mood lifted as she approached the sentry point and saw Will - and she smiled without realising
it. "Hello there, permission to pass, kind sir?"
He smiled back at her and took on a mocking serious tone. "Good morning, Civilian. I will have to
search that basket of yours before you can pass." he lifted the towel that covered the basket and
looked inside. "Mmm... foooood..." he exclaimed jokingly.
"I don't know where you guys put it all. It's a good job you do so much exercise," she laughed as she let
him take the heavy basket from her and set it down on a ledge. "Else you'd need to reinforce the
floors. There's twenty orders in there, plus some extras, just a few rolls left over from yesterday.
There's nothing wrong with them, but Pa is very fussy about fresh food. So he'd rather give it to a good
cause than throw it away."
"Yes, and a good cause it is. Us boys in green are almost starving down here." he smiled at her. "What's
on todays menu?"
"Let's see.. ham and cheese, cheese and pickle, cheese and onion, ham salad, and chicken and mayo.
And you get first pick of the extras. Everyone else's order is in there, ready for when they have a
break."
"This one looks tempting." William said, grabbing a random one. He wasn't very picky, and he knew
that they were all good since they came from the Comforts.
"How are things now," she nodded towards the marine hall, where exercises were taking place. "It
must seem so empty, with so many missing now.."
William nodded solemnly, with food in mouth. "It is..." he said slowly after swallowing. "Just last night I
woke up in the middle of the night and wondered where Goodspeed was. He had the bunk across from
mine..." he drifted off and blinked away the tears that were forming.
"Oh Will..." Shazza laid a hand on his arm. "He was your friend, wasn't he? I'm so sorry. But you know
he died doing what he lived for. It's not much comfort but you know what I mean."
"I know..." DeZusa nodded again, looking at the roll in his hand. "I guess it's what we've signed up for,
but it's still weird when it happens." he shook his head slowly. "How are you holding up?"
"Carrying on, as ever," she gave a little smile. "Not so many of the civilians got killed s the crew, and we
didn't lose anyone from our block. But yeah, even now when it all sems to be behind us, there's still
someone who doesn't come in and we remember *why* they aren't coming in any more. It can catch
you unexpectedly like that. But otherwise, well, we've got to get on with it, or who'd feed you lot?" the
smile was broader now.
William smiled back, momentarily putting the losses behind him.
"I heard a rumour the other day that there are new Nomads on the way," Shaza perched against the
wall. "Someone was saying that they'd heard it from one of the medical staff that there were some
new guys assigned. So you'll have a whole lot of people to train, I expect."
He nodded. "Yes, and no. There are more people coming in, but from what I understand they're quite
well trained and experienced already. Most of them, at least. We'll just have to get them into the
routine of things around here." he shrugged. "I'll give them my evil look, and they'll suit up and
behave." he joked, looking jokingly mean.
"You can be ferocious when you want to, Will DeZusa," she laughed.
The marine laughed with her. It was nice to be around her more often again. The ridiculous spite they'd
had between them for no reason at all for so long was now just a memory, and he enjoyed her
presence more for each day.
"I'm just so glad you didn't get too many injuries yourself," she looked at him affectionately. "Is
everything healed up now - physically, I mean?"
"Oh, for me, yeah. The worst I got was just a bump on the head." he didn't mention that said bump had
kept him unconscious for the better part of the fighting. It was all better now, anyways. A few
centuries back a 'bump' like that could have killed him, or at least cause permanent problems, but
nowadays it was just a matter of getting to a medical facility in time.
"Do you reckon we'll have some peace on this station for a while now?" he asked her, half in jest and
half serious. "Sometimes all the action goes to my head... No pun intended." he sighed and looked
dreamily into the distance.
"Peace" Around here?" Shazza laughed. "You've got to be joking. The day we have more than a
month's peace around here is the day we'll probably all pack up and go home. This is the station of
insanity..."
"Yeah... You're probably right." another shrug, and he glanced at his chronometer. "Anyways, I gotta
get back to duty. I gotta go prepare a firing exercise for the afternoon." He gave her a soft hug, holding
on for a while.
She smiled as she cuddled up to him, "You take care of yourself, Will DeZusa. If I lost you again I
couldn't bear it. So stay safe, whatever happens next."
"You too." he smiled warmly at her. "Oh! I should take a roll for Castlebeck too. He's helping me set the
whole thing up. I think he probably wants the chicken."
"Yeah..." she hesitated then, as she knew she ought to tell Will about the new marine with wandering
hands. "Will..." she began slowly.
William, in turn, hesitated as he could see that there was something bothering her. "Shazza, what is
it?" he asked her carefully, stroking her cheek with one hand.
"Look, I don't want you to get mad, but there's something you should know. One of the new marines is
here already, an officer I think. He's called James Taylor. I met him in Pigs.. and it didn't go very well.
Not very well at all..." she looked embarrassed.
Uh-oh. This didn't sound good at all, he thought. "What happened, love?"
"He.. he grabbed me," she admitted. "He tried to pinch my ass. I slapped his face, hard."
DeZusa clenched his teeth. He knew she didn't want him to get mad, but how could he not? You don't
treat women like that. Especially not Shazza. "Well done." he said, smiling a bit and trying to unclech
his jaws. "He deserved that, and better it came sooner than later."
"Mmmyeah, it's a good job Pa wasn't around or he'd have been out there with his meat cleaver. I told
the guy to get lost, and that I was already dating so if he tried it on with me again he was wasting his
time. Actually, I told him that if tried it again I'd slice him up and serve him as a main course..." she
gave a little grin. "So just keep an eye out for him, won't you? It was probably just an honest mistake,
new guy gets frisky, and all that. But...eh, just thought I'd tell you - before someone else did."
He nodded. "Alright. Thanks for telling me, and I'll try not to beat him up on the spot when I see him."
he thought about it for a second and took a deep breath to calm himself down.
"Love you to pieces, Will," she gave him another quick kiss before wandering back to Pigs.
"I love you too." he kissed her back and watched her leave before turning himself to get back to his
own duties. He'd have to keep an ear open in case the rumour mill had already marked the new guy.
William was the only Nomad dating Shazza, sure, but the Comfort family was loved by them all. He'd
have to make sure no hothead decided to ignore the rank issue and go berserk on the new guy.
"Welcome to BoB..." he muttered beneath his breath. "We'll see how long you last."
-= Captain's Office, the Promenade, BoB =Michael walked on hastily, reading his padd on the way. Without hesitating, or even looking, he walked
up the stairs to the Captain's Promenade Office. Once up the stairs he made a sharp turn and crashed
abruptly into the door. With a yelp of pain he stumbled backwards and landed butt first on the floor.
"Ow." he muttered, rubbing the forming bump on his forehead.
Alerted by the commotion, Mulder darted to the door and swiped it open. Upon not seeing anyone at
face level, her gaze travelld downwards. "Ah. Cadet Andrews." Why was she not surprised?
"Well, hello Captain." he said, getting himself together and getting off the floor. "I've had a look at the
strange thingie in the Expanse. I have half a theory. Wanna hear me out?" Michael smiled beamingly.
"A half theory about a thingie? How could I possibly resist?" she murmured faintly. "Come in, Cadet,
and try not to fall over anything." In the corner, Sherlock gave a little whine and covered his eyes with
his paw.
"Yes. Let's see." The Cadet walked in without ceremony and dug in his pockets for the small
holoprojector he used to carry. "Hrrrm... Well... Um... Ah!" he exclaimed as he found it. "Here we go."
He put it on her desk and connected his padd to it. A moment later half a dozen of diagrams were
shown in the air above it. The graphics were very simple and slightly flickering. It was an old projector.
"So. Look at that." he said, pointing to a diagram marked 'FaRT' as if that explained everything.
"F.A.R.T..." Mulder pronounced the acronym slowly so it didn't sound too much like it spelled. "I know
I'm going to regret asking but... what does that stand for?"
"Uh... That's Faint Repelling Thermals. Actually misnamed to start with, since a thermal really is
something that forms within an atmosphere. This phenomenon has some similarities to it, so that
probably explains the name." he shrugged, put his head to one side and then pointed to another
diagram marked Temporal Fluctuations. "None the less. You see that. See what I mean?"
"No." Mulder didn't even try to get her head around it. "No, Cadet. My knowedge of scientific data
does not even stretch to beginning to understand that. Talk me through it, if you please, in really
simple terms." She stopped short of saying 'pretend I'm an idiot' as in her estimation, CO's who said
that were just asking for trouble.
Andrews stared at her and blinked. Was she pulling his leg? She really didn't see what he meant?
Well... She's the Captain, so if she asks one had better answer. "Okay, so these peaks here," he pointed
to four of the diagrams. "Those were caused by the borg wormhole. They shouldn't have, but the borg
wormholes have a way of compensating for anomalies in the surrounding space-time. So." He pointed
to a big dip in the second diagram. "Those peaks are really nothing but a compensation to that. And
that, Captain, is what worries me."
"Okay," she started to get a grasp of what he was saying. "So it's cause and effect, but not the right
way around."
Michael nodded quickly and held up a finger. "Watch." he said, and started to play a simulation of the
calculated progress. "Look at how the compensations from the borg wormhole really do nothing.
Everything returns to normal." to the layman, there was absolutely nothing normal about it. The curves
seemed to follow some sort of pattern, but it was very intricate. "That dip, however, causes this," he
pointed to another curve that was slowly increasing in amplitude. "I can't nearly guess how that's going
to progress, because that depends on a million other factors too. Have a look across the board,
though." he gestured to all the diagrams.
Mulder did, and it started to make sense. "So the causality effects are happening when they shouldn't
really be, and are too random to be predictable, and their randomness is one part of the problem. The
other being...what other knock-on effect it's going to cause?"
Again he nodded. The simulation stopped. "That's how far it's gonna go until, say, tomorrow. After that
I can't really tell. Eventually it's gonna stabilize again, but there's no sign of it starting to do that in a
while. It could be hours, it could be months. Meanwhile, if it goes too far, those Faint Repelling
Thermals aren't gonna be that faint. And that's not even the worst that could happen.
"I know I'm *really* not going to enjoy the answer here, but what in your opinion is the worst that can
happen?"
The Cadet studied the diagrams with a puzzled look for a minute. "I guess one way of explaining it
would be that these waves you see would turn into a storm. That's pretty close to what we'd be likely
to see in reality, as well. Storms. Sort of." he nodded vaguely and looked at her.
"Storms? Like, electrical storms?" Mulder had visions of thunder and lightening crashing around them.
"Well, yes. Partly. It's hard to say. There are a number of options here. Electrical, gravitational,
temporal, thermal, radiological... Possibly one of the above, possible all. Possibly random mutations of
them. Possibly even others." he sighed. "Chances are it'll be bad."
"Frankly, Cadet, anything that comes out of the Expanse at *all* is bad news. Random storm effects of
unknown power is not good. It's not as if we can move the station out of the way. I suppose, *if* it
comes, we'll just have to raise shields and hope for the best. How much warning do you think you
would be able to give me, if you monitored the progress?"
"With all our sensor power at my hands? If what I've seen so far is any indication of how it's going to
be, then it's just one step away from going haywire. If that happens - and I'd like to stress the 'if' here,
'cause I wouldn't even know how to begin calculating the odds - I could probably give a few hours
heads up. At most." The Cadet shrugged. It wasn't a good promise, but it was the best he could give.
Personally, he would love to study this as close as possible. This was what he lived for! So exciting!
"A few hours?" Mulder looked anxious. "But then again, it might not happen at *all* so I guess there's
not much we can do except hang on and hope it doesn't break." But this was BoB, so chances were
that they wouldn't escape entirely unscathed. "What I *can* do is to send out a pilot with some extra
sensor relay boots to help feed in the information, or at least enhance it. That should help. We don't
have a great deal of equipment out there right now."
Michael beamed up again. "Nice! That would be perfect. Especially if you happen to have something
that can boost the signal a bit?" he asked, holding his thumbs and hoping for it.
"Whatever we *do* have, tends to get mashed or swallowed by the Expanse," Mulder grumbled. "But
yes, I'll see if we can boost signals for you - so all you need to do right now is keep an eye on everything
you can and let me know if we're going to be experiencing The Perfect Storm."
"Absolutely Captain! No problem." he turned on his heel and started walking out, only turning back
quickly to get his stuff with him. "I'll set up an analysis suite to run the incoming data," he started, both
to himself and to her, as he walked out with brisk steps. "I'll compile simulations as often as I can. I'll..."
his voice drifted off down the stairs as he came too far away to be heard.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Personal Quarters =/\=
Bree sat at the rickety desk he had managed to salvage from one of the many abandoned quarters. It
was a flimsy affair with a stained wood effect. The stains being the rings of countless coffee mugs. It
was currently straining under the combined weight of the Bree's booted feet and the mountain of
work related detritus he had on it. The work stacked up on it probably only needed a signature from
Bree here and there but it wasn't getting done. He was too busy staring out at the blurred stars as the
Caledonia streaked past them. Or, perhaps more accurately, shuddered past them.
He wasn't one of the more romantic space travelers who got caught up in the beauty of it all. Bree
certainly wasn't in awe by the sight of the warp travel. If he was going to be in awe of anything then it
would be the fact that the Caledonia could achieve such speeds at all. No, he wasn't really paying
attention to the view at all. His mind was on auto pilot, he could have been staring at anything. Bree
was trying to come up with some. His last paper, on the virus they had found at the prison, had been
sent back to him for further corrections and it didn't look like he was getting any closer to getting
anything out. He needed something else to publish, something else to hang his hat on that would open
the doors needed for a shiny new lab. But he didn't know where to start.
The MU incident had been a major setback for his work. Bree shifted his weight slightly, sending a
couple of battered books tumbling to the floor. Not only had he wasted time sorting things out
afterwards but nothing particularly promising had come of it. Sure there was the work on the antidote
but the Ha'agen were a rather niche, creepy, area. It was hardly going to be the type of thing to bring
him to the attention of the Nobel Prize committee. Bree was getting antsy; he had to research
something soon, even if it only involved giving electric shocks to Tol. Some surgeons got twitchy if they
didn't operate often and get their fix. Bree was the same, he wasn't happy unless there was something
bubbling away in a test tube.
There was a pathetic chirp from somewhere underneath the pile of padds. Bree's combadge was
bravely trying to catch his attention from beneath a pile of studies on the placebo effect. Woken from
his bitter trance Bree reached out and tapped it, "What?"
"Morning Doctor." came the strained sigh of Nurse Ingrams. When Bree hadn't turned up on time for
the early shift Carol had drawn the short straw for reminding him.
Bree rubbed at his face. Morning? He flicked a stack of paper off his desk so he could see what time it
was. He hadn’t slept. "I'll say again. What?"
Carol paused as she considered quite how to approach the subject of Bree actually turning up to
Sickbay. "Tol and I were wondering if you had anything planned today. Work wise? Are you coming in
to sort things out now we're free of patients?"
"Of course.” was the terse reply.
"Ah good, it's just tha..."
Carol could hear a creak over the com line as Bree shifted in his seat before launching into what he had
to say, "I couldn't very well trust you and Tol to get on with things alone. You might break something.
And some of the more complicated jobs are, I'm sure, quite taxing for you both. Like the stock take for
example, after all you only have so many fingers and toes between you." Bree paused for a moment as
he considered continuing. His heart wasn't quite in it though. "I'll be there in five minutes. Conley out."
In a reasonably smooth motion Bree slid his legs off the desk and sat up straight. Something he was
apparently holding dug into his stomach as he did. He must have been holding it before he had zoned
out and started his bitter research based ruminations. Bree looked down at it and grunted tiredly.
Before he left for sickbay he made sure that he put the transmitter Martha had given him away safely.
=/\= Sickbay =/\=
Carol and Tol both looked up as the doors stuttered open. Bree stood in the doorway with his hands on
hips and a scowl on his face. "I want skin cell samples from you both. Right now."
The two of them looked at each other, at Bree and then at each other again. They hadn't been
expecting this at all. Maybe a little shouting, a snide remark here and there, but not a demand for bits
of them. Tol bravely, or foolishly, asked, "Erm, what for?"
Bree cocked his head to one side and somehow managed to scowl even more. "For science of course."
=/\= USS Pendragon =/\=
[Previously]......Roman stepped into the barracks section and looked around. "I'm sure you all have
some questions, so let me try to answer them." He sat down on the edge of a stack of footlockers. "I
just sat through a debriefing with Lieutenant Wix and Commander Brisdon. The Pendragon has been
working this sector with a pair of Klingon corvettes for the past two weeks. When the distress call was
received the Klingons cloaked and shadowed the Pendragon in. Short version. The Pendragon arrived,
cut the Orion raider nearly in half with the first salvo, and that's when two more raiders decloaked and
sent over a pair of boarding parties set on stealing dilithium, weapons, anything that wasn't nailed
down." He grinned. "And then our own cavalry decloaked and shot away the engines of the raiders.
The Klingons took them with their own boarding parties. There weren't many prisoners taken," he
added as an aside.
[and now the continuation..]
Szabo stuck his head back in the open doorway. "The Pendragon needs to make a resupply stop earlier
than projected so we're heading straight to BoB rather than finishing the last of the patrol circuit. We
arrive tomorrow, so get some rest tonight." He disappeared again.
John-Boy waggled his eyebrows as he saw the Lieutenant vanish, "Last chance to disover if the ladies of
the good ship Pendragon give it away for free or charge a handling fee."
The Lieutenant's head shot back in the doorway. "I heard that. And Beaudreaux?"
"Sir?" Jack said, coming to even more attention.
"As my 2IC for this op, you need to do a supplement to my after-action report. And it needs to be done
and submitted to Lieutenant Wix before we dock in the morning." A smirked flirted at the corners of
his mouth. "Ain't rank a bitch?" Szabo's head disappeared from the hatchway again.
"Sir, yes Sir," Jack said, but when Szabo had disappeared out the door, Jack said, "Rank over colonel
wouldn't be that bad. Then you order someone else to do the reports, Sir."
With a sigh, Jack looked around at the others who could get rest, could have some free time and could
relax. "Enjoy," he said. "I'll be over in the corner doing my report."
With those words, he went to the corner of the room, where a few tables and chairs were set up
(uncomfortable chairs, Jack surmised). He sat down and went to work, "It was a dark and stormy night
... why is it always so hard to start these things?"
John-Boy stuffed his hands in his pockets and debated going out into the corridor for a smoke. He was
glad that reports and suchlike weren't his realm. That was the trouble with rank - you had to do the
boring stuff too. Not that he wasn't ambitious; one day he could quite imagine himself as a corporal,
but not yetawhile. He enjoyed his job and his specialisation and was more than happy to concentrate
on that.
He looked over at the rest of them. The ginger kid was looking a bit down in the dumps, and he
wondered what had caused that. As far as he knew, they'd all aquitted themselves pretty well down
there.
Fishing out a crumpled packet of Marlboro, his fingers brushed against the pocket watch, and it gave
him the same small spark of comfort and familiarity as always. He gave an odd little smile, but then
walked outside the room to spark up.
From the bunk room, Akira detected the distinct smell of nicotine, tar, and countless poisons being
burned to form a toxic cloud for inhalation. Suddenly he wanted a cigarette so badly, but he had tossed
all of his before shipping out in an attempt to quit. For the briefest of moments, he attempted to sit
and ignore the smell and the craving it caused, but he gave up and walked out into the corridor.
"Care to make a donation to the Smokeless Marines Foundation?" Akira asked John-Boy.
John-Boy gave a little grunt of acknowledgement and smirked as he proffered the half-full packet.
"Help yerself."
"Add a light and you've got yourself a friend for life," Akira said as he held the beautiful, wonderful,
life-giving cig to his lips.
John-Boy rolled his eyes and held out his lighter, an well-used looking brass refillable design. "First rule
of warfare, kid. Never go on a strange ship without making sure you've got enough real fags for the
jurney. Some of these ships have replicators programmed to only make synthetic nicotene filled
smokes. Pathetic."
"I'll keep that in mind next time," Akira said before taking a long drag, leaning back against the wall.
"Doing alright?" John-Boy blew a long steady stream of smoke ceilingwards. "You get a kill back there?"
Akira shook his head as he slowly blew smoke from his nose. "No. I shot one of them, but missed the
mark." His tone made it sound like he was admitting to a serious crime, like murder, or at least stealing
all of a Brit's tea before they had a chance to drink their morning cup.
"Everyone misses sometimes," John-Boy said with a lazy smile. "And as long as the good guys win, it's
not a biggie. You want to practice marksmanship, grab a holodeck when we get to base. No-one's going
to rag you for it."
"Maybe," Akira said passively with a shrug, pushing off the wall. He didn't really want to talk about his
inadequacies, whether they were real or perceived. "Thanks for the cig," he muttered around the
cigarette before disappearing back into the bunk room. He seriously doubted anyone would mind the
smoke, and if they did, let them try to do something about it. He was in just the mood.
John-Boy watching him disappear, took a final drag and flicked out the embers with finger and thumb
before pinching the butt end and stuffing it into his top pacoket. Fag-break over, he didn't fancy
returning to the bunk room right away so set off for a stroll around the permitted deck area.
*****
James spat out a bulbous mass of chewing gum into a corner ripped off a grotty paper knapking that
had been wedged into a pocket. The gum tasted of starch, the post match adrenaline had wearied it
down. It was like feeling high after a tote on a Sheesah pipe, or one two manty cigs. A buzz that left
him scatty and confused. The chewing helped. His therapist had been right. Now his jaw just throbbed.
chewing was safer than grinding his teeth byt just as wearisome.
He never pretended to be happy. Woof was happy with his lot. His feet were hot still, as his boots lay
on the floor. The things were always cleaned. After every op, on top of their daily routine. Another
therapeutic outlet. His hand slunk into his kit as he pulled out a small blue computer. He sat across the
bunk as his thumbs twiddled away. The tinny sound of 'Tetris' lulled him into a post Op downer.
* * * * Later * * * *
Meanwhile, Jack continued to fill out the report in French, actually colorful Cajun French, and only
when he was at the end of it, did he put translation, turning it into a perfectly Standard-style marine
report.
He got up. It was early or late depending upon how you looked at it. He quietly made his way out of
the room and went to Lt. Wix's office. He wondered if the lieutenant would be up this late and/or
early. It didn't really matter. Someone would be there and he could leave his report. He rang the chime
and waited.
The door slid open and Lt. Wix waved him in. Taking the report, she glanced it over quickly and set it
onto a cradle next to her work station. "Computer, download supplement report from Corporal
Beaudreaux and append to Lieutenant Szabo's after-action report filed this date."
When the computer beeped that it was done, Shirar handed the padd back to Jack. "Here you go, Corp.
Hang on to that. Those field-hardened padds are worth their weight in latinum around this sector. Go
get some sleep," she added with a smile, "you look like shit."
******
In the bunkroom, John-Boy stretched out on the bunk, intending to get some shut-eye. So they would
be at BoB the next morning. he was glad that their travels were nearly over as he was oddly looking
forward to seeing this new home-base. He was starting to feel like a Nomad now, his previous unit now
fading into history.
The action had been good, it had been useful to fight together as a unit for the first time, to see how
everyone reacted. They had been blooded. Well, Ratty certainly had been.. he gave a smirk as the
younger man came out of the shower room, towelling his hair dry. That Orion blood was a devil to get
off.
A final check - weapon, pack, helmet... all was in order in case there was a night-time emergency. He
was starting to get the distinct impression that around here, emergencies were going to be the name
of the game.
He shifted onto his side and closed his eyes.
"Oh, feck, stoo-pid game," James slammed the hand held against the bunk. He was teaming still, his
brain was scattered as Woof was trying to come down. Sighing deeply, he collapsed himself backwards,
splaying out like starfish. He was shattered. Closing his eyes, he lulled himself to sleep. Imagining the
sound of bells being tolled away fro the old man of the sea. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
Akira laid in his bed, fast asleep, snoring up a storm. Unfortunately, with all of the training he had
attempted to undertake to be a stealthy and efficient killing machine, he was unable to do anything
about the buzz saw the sounded from his nose every night. The good news was between his
meditation and his cigarette, he was feeling much better about his supposed blunder. He would just
have to make up for it later by proving himself in the next emergency. Obviously there was going to be
a next emergency - if not, there would be no need for marines.
******
In his own bunk, Roman slept soundly and quietly. The Marines had fought the good fight today and
had come out victorious, but tomorrow was a new day with new challenges. And in this sector,
probably new dangers.
=Pigs in Space=
Zerin had propped up her transmitter. She was stirring her lobster bisque, waiting for the comm
channel to begin that irritating series of beeps. Aunt Zelda had always been a pain. She didn't wait for
you, you had to wait for her.
She took a slurp of the bisque. It didn't taste like lobster. It tasted like crab. Maybe they mixed up her
order, in which case...
...BEEEEEEEEP!...
She sighed. "On screen."
Admiral Zelda Fell materialized on the screen, with her familiar ice-blond hair pulled back in a chignon
and her familiar stick-up-the-posterior facial expression. The Admiral managed a smile. "Good
afternoon, Zerin," she said. "May I ask what you're doing carrying on this conversation in a cafe?"
Oh, for God's said.
"Well, Aunt Zelda," she said, deciding she could dispense with the "admiral/commander" crappola
since she was being addressed by her first name. "I received a notice about fifteen minutes ago that
there would be a priority call from Admiral Zelda Fell and I was to be prepared to receive it
immediately, no ifs, ands, or buts."
"And you were waiting for soup."
"The soup is an appetizer," Zerin said. "My lunch is still to arrive. And Aunt Zelda? I'm hungry. Really,
really hungry."
Zerin should be reading her menu, looking to order a wrap sandwich. Or panini. Not listening to Aunt
Zelda, who'd been no help at all.
"Well, Zerin," the admiral said. "You probably wonder how you ended up on the Caledonia after your
tour of duty on the Eurpides."
"I screwed up. That's how everyone ends up here." Zerin took a sip of the bisque.
"Well, Zerin, given that the Fells are an established Starfleet family, I think we have appearances to
keep up."
"...And a Starfleet commander slumming on the Caly is like a mustache drawn on that picture of the
naked Venus," Zerin said.
"Which is why I'm looking into other postings for you. But you don't sound interested."
"I'm interested, Aunt Zelda, I really am. I know the Caly won't be my entire career."
"But you didn't put in for a transfer."
"Not...yet."
"Zerin, I feel you've served there long enough. I have your Starfleet record, which shows you've served
well. You really could use your talents elsewhere. Should I pass your name along?"
"Yes, of course, Aunt Zelda." Zerin felt all early feelings of betrayal melt away. "I'd appreciate any help
you could provide."
"I won't let anyone know, Zerin, until you're ready to put in notice with your current commanding
officer," Aunt Zelda said. "Admiral Fell out."
The screen went black. Zerin suddenly felt excited and fearful at once.
Well, this was one of those "poop or get off the pot" moments, wasn't it?
=/\= USS Caledonia - CO's Ready Room =/\=
"Commander Fell, would you step into my office?" Chess called from the doorway. "Bring a coffee, we
need to talk about the upcoming mission."
Zerin walked in with a raktijino. She really hoped the food replicator was working properly and the
raktijino tasted properly. "Hola, Captain," she said.
"Have a seat," Chess slipped back behind her own desk. "Now, there's a couple of things to run
through. First of all... as you know, Lieutenant de Carabas has had to...depart." Chess held up a hand.
"It's complicated and I'm in the process of making a full report at the moment, so we'll leave the
specifics for now. But the good news is, we have a new security chief assigned to us."
"What's the story with de Carabas?" Zerin wondered. The security team was going to be depressed. So
would Zerin. She kind of liked the guy.
"It's a long story.....suffice to leave it at that for now. But as to the new guy, well, that's the thing,"
Chess frowned slightly. "Admiral Bishops was not very forthcoming about the details. All I can tell is
that the new chief is a 'he', he's a lieutenant, and is probably humanoid. I wouldn't care to hazard a
guess as to anything else."
"They didn't send a personnel file? Gee, that's helpful," Zerin sighed.
"Yes, we'll doubtless be pleasantly surprised." Chess murmured dryly. "But until he manages to
rendezvous with us, we'll have to just wonder, I suppose. Now, this next mission. I intend to call a full
officer's meeting before we arrive but I wanted to run the basics past you first."
Chess repeated the gist of her conversation with Admiral Bishops, including all the details of the Order
of Po and their current situation. "It's an odd little puzzle, isn't it?"
"It's truly bizarre," Zerin said. "Question is: do they have any livestock? Or have they all gone
vegetarian? Are there any animals they're not allergic to?"
"No livestock, because they believe that animal life forms are 'impure' and interfere with their
contemplation. And I believe the allergies, or physical intolerances, are as a direct result of their lack of
contact over the years. I think we'll have to be very careful not to let any of our ship's animals get
tangled up in the transporters. And brush clothes before we go down there," Chess absent-mindedly
brushed some cat hairs of her jacket. "Apparently they have become so allergic to anything animal that
it could kill them. As indeed it already has."
"Here's an idea!" Zerin declared. "Maybe there's a way to remove animal dander, just to be really,
really, really safe. Think Medical could do something on that?"
"Possibly, I'll bring it up at the staff briefing," Chess made a note. In the meantime, any theories, just
on first hearing?" Chess asked. "We'll get a whole lot more info when we arrive, but I thought I'd just
brainstorm any off-the-cuff ideas right now, see if anything in particular strikes you?"
"How are they able to sustain themselves as part of an ecosystem, anyway?" Zerin wondered.
"As Admiral Bishops explained, the entire habitat is like a giant greenhouse, everything including air
and water is filtered in so not animals or insects can get in. They grow their own foodstuff, vegetables,
berries, fruits and nuts. Their diet is wholly vegan. But the puzzle is to find out *how* those isolated
animal instances happened inside the dome. Either someone, for some reason, is sabotaging the
Order, or there is a malfunction in the dome in some way."
"It sounds bizarre. Not even bees to pollinate the place?" Zerin found it kind of unbelievable.
"Definitely not bees, no. I believe they pollinate by hand, or at least with some mechanical device,"
Chess pushed the rest of the notes over to Zerin. "Anyway, here's the recording of my conversation
with the Admiral in full. Have a read-through and study all the details he mentioned and see what you
come up with. As I said, I'll hold a full staff briefing in a day or so. We should be there if four days time,
if we don't get delayed."
Zerin picked up the recorder chip. "In the meantime, we should talk to medical about allergy-proofing
ourselves, yes?" She thought about Sputnik.
Chess stood up, "I'm going to get some sleep. I'd advise as much rest as possible because once we get
there we'll be on the job full-time until we find the solution."
~+~ Mirror Universe - New Earth - Two months after the battle ~+~
~+~ Soup Kitchens - Tenements - New London ~+~
"Avi..." Allie Snow whispered his name as she stood at the window, looking out to the night sky. She
could hear him whisper her name back, she knew she could. Somewhere out there...
Every night, after she'd settled the homeless down and banked up the fire, she looked to the stars, her
eyes still seeing the face of the marine who'd loved her and fought for her - for all of them - and had
gone back to his own world. Every night she missed him a little more.
No matter how fierce the battle had been, no matter how terrifying, they had also been the happiest
days of her life, before everything crashed back to reality.
Across the road from the soup kitchens rebuilding work was going on, the shattered building that had
been the Nomads outpost in those last desperate days when it seemed everything was lost. They'd
held on, against all odds, and stopped the final push of the Ha'agen, long enough for their new allies to
arrive. And at terrible cost, at terrible loss of life. And at terrible loss of her love.
But she'd taken the right decision to stay. Her people - the poor, the homeless, the destitute, needed
her now like never before. And she'd made her voice heard at the CTC HQ, and now resources were
going to be spent in the Tenements. The building across the street was being repaired and was going to
be renamed the Nomads Centre - a fitting tribute and suited to their own homeless and nomadic
people. There was going to be a clinic on the ground floor, with proper doctors to treat the poor. The
second floor was going to house a school so the deprived kids would get a basic education, and the top
floor a daycare centre, so parents could go into the city and work, knowing their children would be
safe.
She had asked for the Daycare centre to be called 'Brody's' after Dennis Brody, Avi's best friend, the
man-mountain marine corporal who had given his life in the battle. The kids would be safe at Brody's.
She hoped that somewhere, he knew.
A fresh wrench of sorrow filled her as she thought of how desolate Avi would be when he recovered, to
know that his best friend had died, along with so many others. Would he miss her, too? Would he wish
he could have stayed?
She could remember every detail of the day he'd said he would stay with her. The picnic in the old
park, when the sun shone so brightly it seemed as if the whole world was lit up just for them...
.....two months ago...
"Thank you Avi.. for showing me there's more than that. More to life. Even though it'll all end soon,"
she stopped, as a shadow fell across her face. "It doesn't matter, nothing matters except today."
Avi was half-way to the truck, realizing that he'd forgotten the bottle of wine he'd brought when he
heard her tone and turned around. "End soon? Who says anything has to end?"
She walked slowly towards him, "You'll be gone soon, but nothing can ever take away the memories of
now, and nothing ever will," she just looked at him, marvelling that a man like this could come into her
life, and bring the whole colours of the rainbow. "Why, if I make believe that every second is an hour,
every minute a day, every hour a year, then I can spend a whole lifetime with you in just one day," she
laughed.
He opened his mouth to say something but clamped it shut and turned back to the truck. He dug into
the back and pulled out the bottle wrapped in another blanket before starting back towards her.
"What's on your mind, Avi?" she felt sensitive to his every change of mood now.
"I was just thinking something crazy." He sighed and smiled at her. "At least, Brody says I'm crazy."
"Crazy?" she studied him."Sometimes crazy is good. Tell me..."
Holding her hand, he led her back to the blanket and sat down. "I... Well, there's not much a way to say
it except to say it." He smirked and dug in the basket for the corkscrew. "My, uhh, enlistment is up
pretty soon. I'll have to make a decision whether I want to re-up or become a civilian again. Anyway, I'd
always just assumed that I'd sign the papers and go back to New Galilee Colonial Defense or request a
permanent transfer to the Marines. Colonel Vaughan said he could probably get me a direct transfer
and I'd get to keep my rank, but..."
Hardly daring to breathe, she concentrated on lifting the glasses out very carefully and handing them
to him, before saying anything. "But..." she prompted gently.
"Well, I'd never really thought about leaving the service. Until now," he added, looking her in the eyes.
"You'd become a civilian and..." she realised what he was truly saying, "..and you'd want to stay here?"
"Why not?" He slid over a little bit closer to her. "I'm sure I wouldn't have any problem finding
employment. The CTC would be willing to take on a combat-experienced soldier, I'm sure..."
"Avi.." she felt a lump in her throat, "I can't imagine anything in the world that would be more
wonderful than you, here, with me. But you'd be giving up so much. Your friends in the Marines, your
family and relatives.. your whole world." She looked at him and said with simple honesty, "Am I worth
it?"
"This probably seems awful fast, but... Yes."..
....back in the present, she smiled, and let herself believe for one moment that he was still with her,
asleep next to her as he had been until the day the Ha'agen came, in their thousands. She'd had to go
to BoB with the others to take refuge, and that had been the last she'd seen of Avi.
No, not quite the last time she'd seen him, but the last time she'd seen him conscious. She hadn't
wanted to go, but the trucks were waiting to evacuate them, and she'd snatched one last moment with
Avi...
.....two months ago...
"Ten seconds," Richter bellowed back. He turned to the cargo bay of the last transport. "You have to
go."
Allie leaned out, here eyes full of pain at the thought of their final goodbye. "I wish I could stay with
you, protect you.." she whispered quickly, knowing how foolish that sounded when he was surrounded
by the finest soldiers she'd ever known.
He cupped her face in both of his hands and kissed her like it would be the last time. Avi gently pushed
her into the cargo area. "Go," he said softly.
She nodded, fighting back tears, knowing this was the worst thing she could do. "Come back safe," she
implored him. "All I want to know is that you'll be safe. I'll turn the city upside down if I have to," she
gave a tremulous smile.
"I'll find you!" He took a step back from the transport as the crew chief slapped the button to raise the
gate. Avi waved to her again. "I love you," he mouthed, knowing that any words would be drowned out
as the sirens reached their crescendo.
....a tear fell slowly down her cheek. He would have found her, she knew that. She believed it with all
her heart. If things had been different.
But Avi had been terribly injured, and after the battle had lain in BoB's Infirmary, too ill to be moved,
too deeply in a coma to hear her last goodbye.
It had been kind of Colonel Vaughan to offer to take her back with them, but she knew she had to stay
to look after her own people. It had been the right decision, but taking that decision had been the
hardest thing she had ever done in her life.
She chocked back a sob as she recalled the last sight of Avi, so pale and still on the hospital bed, as she
spoke the last words she would ever be able to say to him...
.....two months ago...
"I'd better leave now," her voice was low and husky, as she leant over Avi's bed and took his hand in
hers. "Avi, my love, I have to go now. Please, please forgive me for leaving you, but you have to live, for
my sake. And that can't happen if you stay with me. I love you. When I met you, it was as if someone
had turned on a light inside me. I never knew what it was like to be happy - really happy - before.
Thank you for loving me, and showing me that sometimes, dreams can come true. I'll never forget you,
and I'll never stop loving you until the day I die. Be happy, forget me, and find someone who is worthy
of you. Someone to care for you the way I only wish I could." She stopped, her heart breaking as she
looked down at him.
Then she reached up and tugged the thin dark green ribbon from her hair, wrapping it round his wrist
like a rough bracelet. "Wherever you are, whatever you do, always know that somewhere across the
void that separates our worlds, there is someone who will always, always love you."
She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. As she did so, a tear fell from her eye and onto his
cheek, trickling downwards so it looked as if he was weeping with her. "Goodbye, my love."
.... and she'd left, with breaking heart, to go back to her old life and pick up the pieces. The station had
been sent back to it's own universe that same day, and with it all her hopes and dreams.
She rubbed her back and walked slowly over to the chair by the fire, sitting down with a sigh of relief.
Her hands softly stroked her stomach, sensing the new life inside.
Avi's child.
She'd known for several weeks now, and the thought filled her with joy and sorrow of such magnitude
it made her catch her breath in her throat.
Sorrow, for the child that would never know it's father, never know his love. She would make sure her
child knew how brave and wonderful he was, and how he would have died for them. And Avi, never to
know the new life that was part of him, never to be able to hold his child...
But joy to hold the sadness at bay. A reminder of the love they'd shared, enduring and unending. Even
though the void between their universes must be sealed now, and they would never met again, she
would have him with her still in their child. A child to be loved and cherished, a child born of the
deepest love imaginable.
She closed her eyes, and let her hands lay gently across her stomach. Her most precious child would be
born into a world of hope and promise, a symbol of everything that was right and good.
If only Avi could be there to witness the miracle.
At least he was still alive. Somewhere out there...
=/\= SB BoB Main Promenade =/\=
Arihana was on a man hunt. One man. About so tall, welsh, and a bit armless. That Cade chap. The one
that half the adolescent girls on the base were still swooning after. Tucked under her arm were a
handful of padds, in one hand two mugs, in the other, a bright blue tea pot. She mau have looked odd
normally, now she just looked potty.
"Counselor Dharma!' Cade waved at her from his seat at a small table set 'outside' near the casino.
With his impending transfer, he'd been slowly pawning off his admin jobs onto Canowicakte and
Richter. Gideon was used to it and Avi could still write even though he was still in a hospital bed.
"You're either looking for me or my beloved evicted you from your office."
"A-ha, just the fella!" She exclaimed rather relieved to see her quarry. "This seat taken, only I do need
to bend your ear. May I?" Arhiana hopped that she could, as she would probably drop the pot other
wise.
Kicking underneath the table, Cade sent the chair out a couple of feet so that she could sit down.
"Please do."
"Legend. Cheers. I also need to pick your brain. Here. tea. Drink." She said to park herself opposite,
depositing eveything. She realised that she had no milk. Oh, the sacriledge. Given what was a stake,
she'd have to grin and bear it.
"Pick my brain?" He winked at her and took a sip of the tea. "I thought you'd given up trying to see
what makes me tick?"
Arihana gave an exasperated sigh, as she rubbed her eyes. "Picking your brain has nothng to do with
any fetish on my part. I could count the number of my loveliest friends on my one hand. Since you're
one of the elite. Just smile and be flattered. I'm trying to make a crucial decision, and I seek your
counsel, oh, Yoda of the Green Cloth."
"I always thought of myself more as an Obi Wan. The young one, not the Alec Guinness one. But, that
is neither here nor in a galaxy far, far away. What is on your mind, m'dear?"
"Suraj needs a nanny," she replied sliding across the three padds. "I've whittled them down to three. I
was hoping you'd have some thoughts, and perhaps Her in Charge. Might have to poke Bax too."
"I heard something about that," he said with a smile and scooped the padds toward himself. He picked
up the first one and read the first few sentences of the cover letter and then flipped into the CV. "What
kind of specifics are you looking for? This one has got an advanced degree in child development and a
black belt in jujitsu. If I wasn't spoken for, I might be turned on by that combination."
"Three words, Cade. Her. In Charge." Arihana said chuckling away.
"I won't tell her if you won't." He set the padd back down. "Seriously. What are you looking for? Just a
traditional nanny whose sole job will be to care for Suraj when you're not around? More of an au pair
who'll assist with the household chores? Or a live in who can do all that and more," he added with a
leering grin as he flipped the padd back to her containing the credentials of the sole male applicant.
"He's pretty," Arihana shrugged, "After what happened with my male secretary back home in
Birmingham. I was inclined to say no," Arihana nodded, "But I'm open to persuasion. Bloke could be a
good male role model."
He grinned again and then arranged the padds into a row in front of him. "Okay, that's something to
start with. By the way, have you thought of running all of these people by Baxter? He could get a pretty
thorough background search done on them."
"That is the plan, yep," she agreed, "I figured I'd give your first pick though," Arihana smiled to pour
herself a cup of tea. "to decide which doesn't look as though they need their legs broken, or shooting."
"Wrap your brain around this, Cade. I need. A bit of me, a bit of you-"she frowned a second, "You can
decide which bit, a bit of Her In Charge, and a bit of Baxter." Arihana gave a quick grin clutch her mug.
"Don't be disappointing me now, you and Suraj would be best friends given half a chance."
"He's a good lad, to be sure," Cade said by way of agreeing with her. "Okay, so you need someone
protective, suspicious of others' motives, zero diplomatic skills, and a chocolate addiction. Oh, and they
need to like kids. That cover it?"
"Battle lines, then Colonel," Arihana cleared her throat and pulled out a slate grey eyeliner and tapped
the three padds in succession. "Karate kid come Nanny. Do I really want some who confuses
instrumental aggression with draconian discpline? Next one, the Manny. I'm going to need convincing.
Present company accepted, but a bloke as nanny? Third but not least." She tapped the third padd with
some weary indecision. "It's the Mary Poppins of the 24th century. I'm lost."
"Mary Poppins is out. All of that singing would give me a headache. The Manny? That's like a woman
wanting to be a penis model. And all of the Karate Kid's wax-on, wax-off routines would make
everyone want to commit seppuku."
"Okay, let's not do this the Colonel way then," Arihana flexed her index finger. "Plan B."
"Plan B?" Cade took another sip of his tea. "And what, pray tell, is Plan B?"
Leaning forwards, Arihana laced her fingers together and looked straight at the marine. "Do this the
Dad way. No huff and puff of a battle weary marine who takes pleasure in discipline dictum derived
from the Classics. Nope," Arihana shook her head. "Say this was your Vaughan junior. The kid I'm not
allowed to mention because the very mention of him makes your heart swell, and gets your back up if I
so much as use him to irritate you."
He smiled at her and dipped his chin toward his chest once before taking a battered photograph of
himself and Dylan from his pocket. "You certainly know how to hit the right buttons, Arihana Dharma."
He winked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe you have me figured out after all, yeah?"
There was a chuckle from Arihana with that suggestion. "If you say so, in which case be still my beating
heart," she said shaking her head. "Nanny, my lovely, your pearls of wisdom."
"Okay," Cade said with a smile as he stacked the padds back on top of each other." Mary Poppins on
the bottom. Manny in the middle. Karate Kid on top." He spun the pile and pushed them toward
Arihana. "That's my order."
"ye-up," Arihana nodded, "Logic in the madness," she asked, just in case the five year old at stake had
better ideas.
"The Mary Poppins type wouldn't last long here. A prim and proper woman in general wouldn't last
long here. She'd most likely be completely and totally out of her element and barely able to cope with
us getting invaded every other week much less take care of a child while that is happening." After
another drink of the tea, he continued, "As far as the Manny, you make a good point about a male role
model, but, in truth, Suraj has no shortage of those on this station already. And, I'm an old fashioned
sort. Which leaves us with the Karate Kid."
Another laugh and a smirk, "I have images of whatsisface, that Mister Miyagi in a dress," she did
however regain her composure. "Sorry, I am listening," Arihana quickley regained herself.
"On her CV, she sounds like a winner," he said as he topped off both their cups from the teapot. "One,
education. She's got it. Two, experience. Limited due to her young age, but still she has some from
internships. Three, extra-curriculars. Martial arts, as I mentioned, and the other interests she listed
shows a more balanced person, I think, than the other two."
"Fair cop," Arihana concurred. "I see your logic, we shall what the rest of the dragons' den has to say.
But I like it so far."
"Oi, you, been looking for you!" The shriek came from Avril who pelted over, clutching a twelve inch
toy. "This thing, is freaking me out." She unceremoniously dumped the mini me Arihana into the
counsellors lap. Avril took one look at the counsellors drinking fellow.
"That is the Colonel," she said looking back the counsellor. Half an accusing look, half confused.
Especially as she had only recently googled the rockstar.
"I know," Arihana replied. "Yes, so what, he's allowed friends. Don't belong on a lead. Do you,
Colonel?"
"Not last time I checked," he said amusedly. "She even lets me have an extra twenty when I'm going
out with the boys," Cade added as his tone turned sarcastic.
"He's taken," Avril told her. "Attached to Her In Charge. About so high, runs the place. She'd do a very
good impression of Tammy Wynette standing by her man."
"I know," the counsellor shook her head, waving the doll like it was the end of a table leg. "He's right
there, Avil, grow up. It's the Colonel, as you so deftly pointed out. I'm a lot of things, but I aint stupid."
"You're gonna get your legs broken," Avril was clearly ticked off. "Leave him well alone and go fiddle
with the playboy rockstar," she huffed,"And keep that thing away from me!" she pouted before turning
heel and walking away.
Arihana clutched at the very macabre mini her by the legs. "This couldn't be more of an offensive
weapon, could it? If I whacked someone around the head," she looked back at the marine. "What
degree of assault would that be, I wonder."
"Far, far down the list. More of a harrassment than an assault, I should think. One of those offenses
that, if reported, Security is more inclined to smack the victim than the culprit just for making them do
the paperwork." He squinted at the object in her hands. "Do I dare ask what that is?"
"It's evil," grumbled Arihana. "Perfect reason example of why there aren't any proper mini me's
around," she dumped the dolly on the table to face away from her. In fact, from them both. "Vile
creature," she grimaced to pick up her tea again.
"My dear, you are the very embodiment of the Chinese curse, 'May you live in interesting times,'" Cade
said as he hoisted his teacup in a salute to the Counselor. "I will miss this far too much when I'm back
on Earth."
=/\= Starbase BoB, Sickbay =/\=
"So, Lieutenant Richter, how are you feeling today," Sergeant Kam Drexer asked as he read over Avi's
chart at the foot of the bio bed.
"Just fine, Kam, and knock off the Lieutenant crap. The Skipper wrote me up for the commission, but
there's about twelve steps that come next where it could get denied."
Kam smiled and stepped around the side of the bed to take a look at some of the bandages. "I'm just
saying. Scuttlebutt going around is that General Pulaski fast-tracked the commendation."
"That same scuttlebutt tell us who's replacing the Skipper?" Avi was getting tired of being stuck in
sickbay. He was too far removed from his unit, even though he was still on the same base, and he was
too far removed from the ridiculously efficient Marine grapevine. "Still can't believe we're losing him."
"Neither can I. Now, hold still for a second so we can take a look at that new eye of yours." Kam peeled
the bandages back a little and took a penlight from the pocket of the white lab coat he was wearing
over combat fatigues. Although not a doctor, the combat medic was back to his old tricks and assisting
in the on base hospitals whenever he could. Pointing the light at Avi's forehead he flashed it towards
the left eye and withdrew it just as quickly. "Normal pupil response," he intoned for the benefit of the
computer that was transcribing the exam. "Coloration is still slightly pale compared to the right,
probably due to the cloning process. If it does not darken to match, recommend no further action
unless patient is concerned about ascetics or starts having vision problems. Computer, please annotate
that my recommendation needs the approval of Doctor Bonnenfant."
Avi moved his eye around a little. "It's a little blurry at the edges of my vision, but straight ahead,
seems like normal."
"Sounds about right. You've only had the new eye for a week. It'll be another couple before your
body's fully adjusted to it, and it's fully adjusted to you." Kam folded a new dressing to put over the
eye. "And to answer your other question, the smart money is on Roman Szabo, freshly promoted to
First Lieutenant."
Avi stared at the medic for a moment. "You're fekking with me."
Lam laughed and started placing the bandage on. "No. General Meier, the head of Training and
Standardization was the Academy roommate of our own General Pulaski. And you know how it goes...
Once you put on the stars, it's all about the old-boys network of getting things done with favors. And
right now, Lieutenant Szabo is in favor among the brass."
"I don't believe it." Avi held still while the gauze was pressed down around his eye and taped into
place. "Well, actually I do if it's coming from you. Why the hell are you a combat medic instead of being
in intelligence?"
Kam grinned and stood back. "Because if I was in intelligence, I wouldn't be able to talk about what I
know and I'm worse than a teenage girl when it comes to gossip. Having to bite my tongue about this
stuff would be a fate worse than death."
"Roman Szabo?"
"Yep."
"Guy that single-handedly wiped out a Kazon assault company, bitching the entire time that they'd
interrupted his breakfast?"
"The same," Kam confirmed. "Also the same guy that won two Platinum Crosses on blacked-out
missions against the Tal'Shiar in the neutral zone and a third for using everything but the kitchen sink
to help stop a few thousand Reman dissidents from invading our side of the border." He stopped and
thought for a second. "Come to think of it, I heard that he did use a kitchen sink. Ripped it out of the
counter and dropped it five stories onto some poor bastard's brain pan."
"I heard he's hard core," Avi ventured.
"That's the truth," Kam confirmed as he checked the iv's hanging next to the bed. "Not necessarily by
the book, but, hell, Avi, the guy's a recruiting poster Marine that can also scrap with the best of them."
"And beat most of them." Avi settled his head into the pillow. "I guess we could've done worse."
"A lot worse." Kam patted his arm. "I'll come back later and check on you." He winked. "I'll sneak a
flask of whiskey in for you. Doc thinks you'll be out of here next week."
Avi tapped the bandage gently. "Bonnefant's a good doc. Anybody that can give me a new eye is aces
in my book."
"Of course he is, he was trained as a Marine."
Avi laughed and then reached over to the bedside table. Lifting a padd, he held it out to Kam. "Could
you take care of this for me?"
"Sure. What...." As Kam took it, he saw who it was addressed to. "I'll make sure. Dennis' folks will
appreciate this."
Avi said nothing and just sank back farther into the bed. Kam patted his arm again and said a quiet
goodbye.
=/\= SB BoB =/\=
Arihana was writing on her hand in slate grey eyeliner. Was the order as set by The Vaughan.It was
very scribbly as she clutched the CVs with her hand. Next strop, or stop rather, was Her In Charge. The
Vaughan's missis and the second element of the Dragons' den.
Jumbling up the padds, Arihana was lost in her own pre-emptive thoughts. She would have carefully
consider what they all had to say.
"Good morning," Mulder said in passing as she loitered outside Cafe Rouge.
"Hello? You're miles away," she chuckled.
"Hello, sorry, plotting world domination," Arihana said looking up. "For which I need your twopenneth.
Latte and Cake on me, if you got a few moments."
Latte and cake is a suitable bribe," Mulder accepted with alacrity. "You got as long as it takes."
"Pull up a pew," smiled the counsellor, dropping the three padds onto the table top. "One tea please, a
couple of jammy doughnuts and a latte, please, for Her In charge," Arihana enquired of the waitress
that passed by.
Sitting herself down, Mulder gave the counsellor a quizzical look, "So, what's the conundrum?"
"Right, we have." She sighed to start with the same spiel that she had given the Colonel. "We have a
karate Kid come nanny," she started. "The Manny, and third but not least, Mary Poppins of the 24th
Century. Help."
"Ah, the new nanny candidates?" Mulder nodded enthusiastically. "And you want some input? Sure.
Ask away - you're getting a range of opinions, yes?"
"I've spoken to The Vaughan, there's you now, then there's Bax," replied Dharma, "To consult before I
ask for the recruit to come along and make a start. So in your own time."
"Okaaay," Mulder picked up the three CVs and started reading, quickly and fully, taking in all the
details. Goodness knows, it was a good idea to have that Strange Child under permanent guard. It
needed to be someone with nerves of steel though.
"Right," Mulder had processed the information with typical Jaz'Aarian efficiency and started to give her
considered opinion. "The Karate Kid would be eliminated at this stage," she set the relevant bio against
the one for Mary Poppins. "Whilst she has a good resume, there isn't much by way of practical
application there. Youth is not always a good factor – my personal preference would be for a woman
who is older and has preferably brought up children of her own. That means she knows all the scams,
and has lived through all the various developmental stages in growing up."
"Plus, a young girl, even one well educated, can get a bit dizzy on arriving at a military base with such a
captive audience of prospective suitors. When men become more important than children, then the
attention to duty starts to slack. Or you might come home to find she's entertaining Highly Unsuitable
Males. Or she might catch someone's eye on the Promenade - it only takes a second for a child to
escape or be kidnapped, one second of someone flirting with a fancy man.. no, not worth the risk."
"Her karate skills might be good, but probably a bit useless," Mulder shrugged. "Let's face it, being able
to throw your enemy isn't much good when faced with a length of cold steel or a well placed phaser
shot. Most bad guys are more likely to shoot or stab than assume the Praying Mantis position and
await an opponent. So she'd be right off my list."
Mulder the picked up the remaining two. "Mary Poppins is good. Reliable, experienced.. and even
though she might be rather prim and proper, BoB does have a habit of adjusting to people, by making
sure they adjust to it. Stranger people have acclimatised there. But, on the protection front, maybe not
scoring so high. Although she might be an excellent surrogate granny figure, she might not have
enough energy to keep up with a junior full time."
Picking up the Manny CV, Mulder nodded. "A man doesn't fall into a career in child care by accident.
It's not an easy choice, so he must be extremely dedicated. For an only child it combines the benefits of
an older brother as well as a minder - and as he's male, he'll know all the tricks that he himself used
when growing up, so he'll be wise to anything a junior tries to get away with. And you won't have to
worry about any gender-confusing issues like will your son start to think of a female nanny as more of a
mother than you are. No competition there, see."
Mulder delivered her final verdict, "And of course a strapping young male minder is far more of a
deterrent to any would-be kidnapper than young female. Besides, you are Counsellor Dharma and you
don't go for ordinary. I think a male nanny would suit your lifestyle and your needs as a mother of a
child who seems to be somewhat of a kidnap-magnet."
"Hmm, interesting," came the loaded reply from the counsellor with an arched brow. She scribbled the
ordination of the CO on the back of her hand next to that of The Vaughan's.
"Do I deduct that I made a different choice from the Colonel?" Mulder was amused.
"Two down, one more to go," nodded Dharma, still pulling an intrigued face. "With my own
deliberations, will make for an interesting appointment."
"Well, I don't want to know who the others pick, although I daresay I shall find out. But my choice is
the right choice, of course," Mulder said with no trace ofirony. "How did you select the Adjudication
Panel, anyway?"
"The dragons' den was selected with a number of factors in mind," replied Dharm. "First of all,
yourself, The Vaughan, and Baxter are the closest friends I have on this base. That speaks for itself. The
second factor, is a little different."
"Which is....?"
"The Vaughan already has a sproglet, he has first hand vocative experience," she replied. "Baxter will
*have* a good idea very soon."
"But I don't," Mulder said promptly. "So where do I fit in?"
"Well, without getting sent to the block, Madam CO, I shall be polite." Arihana looked at the Captain,
with a wary but measured look. "I do think that *even* you, behind that 'children make my skin crawl'
front. Have got half a heart that beats, and one day. Perhaps a Her in Charge junior will make the other
half beat too.And I shall stop being whimsy right there...as I may start to vomit..."the counsellor quikly
cleared her throat and made for her tea.
"Ha!" Mulder laughed. "You haven't got me *quite* pegged right there. I don't dislike all children.
Oddly enough, I got on famously well with the Colonel's son. I suppose I tend to think of children as I
do adults – some you take to, some you don't. I always assume I won't like them and then can on
occasion be pleasantly surprised."
"And you don't take with Suraj," said Dharma, wrinkling her nose.
"Besides," Mulder gave a wicked grin, "It's in my own interest to make sure that your son doesn't get
into any mischief. The less disruption from rugrats, the better from a CO's point of view. So I'm bound
to pick whoever I think has the best chance of preventing any destruction or damage caused to, by or
on behalf of a kiddy around here. Makes sense."
"It does, ye-eah," nodded the counsellor.
"Thank you for the edibles, Counsellor," Mulder had demolished hers without any apparent effort
whatsover. Even one of Dharma's donuts. "I'd better get back and carry on planning my own form of
world domination. I believe Petty Officer Tyner had the month's admin reports for me to sign," she
gave a thearical sigh. "Never a dull moment, eh? Good luck with the final selection."
"Cheers, wait, my cake's gone," Arihana exclaimed realising that her sugar rush had been snatched.
"Oh, well," she sighed. "Two down."
=^= Dharma quarters =^=
Boston Zaire stood outside of Lt. Cdr. Dharma's quarters and stopped to consider. He'd wanted a
vacation away from it all. He hadn't wanted any involvement with anyone whatsoever and then he'd
stumbled upon the woman behind the door.
"Just another disappointment in store, Mate," he said to himself and turned, taking two steps away.
He stopped, turned and came back to the door again. "Blast," he said, ringing the chime.
Suraj had been watching a cybernetics themed episode of Thundercats as he momentarily left his
perch and scuttered towards the door. "Yeah, hello?" he asked, sounding a lot like his mother as he
didn't even look away from the holobox. His beck craned in inattention.
"Is your mother home?" he asked the small person in front of him.
"I am, yes," Arihana was literally around the corner, sat at the dining table, trying to write a research
proposal. Leaving her work, she walked around to see her visitor. "How goes it, Boston?" she asked
smiling. There was that half a swoon. Right there....was like a horrible itch.
"I wondered if you and the rest of the family would like to go out for pizza with me," he said.
"Yeah, please, mummy,can we go," Suraj bounced up and down, tugging at the t-shirt his mother wore.
"Please, please, please," he rattled.
"Well, you've all ready been fed, sweetie," Arihana chewed at her lip.
"Am a growing boy, and you've not been fed." Suraj used the horrible persuasive tone as adopted by
many five year olds.
"Ye-ah, true," nodded Arihana, hungary as she didn't particularly fancy the ratatouile that Suraj had
engorged. "I am in need of nourishment," she agreed looking at Boston. "Looks like you got a date,
Boston. Me and the kid, are all yours."
"Then it's my lucky day," Boston said with a genuine smile. "However, I have no idea where to get
pizza."
"There's loads of places," Arihana replied, grabbing Suraj to tug his shirt over his head. Half the
ratatouille was on it. "Go change," she said turning him in the direction of his room. Off the boy
scrambled excitedly.
"I just have said the magic word," the rock star said.
"Boston, I was hoping you'd come by," she sounded almost abashed, and verged on coy.
"'Really?" he asked. "I'm glad. I didn't want to be imposing. Are you hiding something from me?" he
continued, looking at her expression.
"I'm really sorry," she giggled. "But I had you googled. I was curious. Very curious," she added with a
smirk.
Boston laughed. "My secret is out then," he said. "What did you find out?"
"We'll talk later," Arihana gave a discrete nod, to pat his arm as Suraj came back.
"C'mon, then, red socks, dude," Suraj chattered, making a beeline for Bostons' hand and tugging him
towards the door. Arihana followed, trying not to grin like a cheshire cat. She was out again. With a
rockstar.
"You lead the way, kiddo," Boston said to Suraj. "It's Suraj, right?"
"Yeah, that me," nodded the boy, skipping along/
"What's your favorite topping?" Boston asked Arihana and her son.
Arihana thought about it a moment as Surak spoke up, "Spicy sausage and honey glaze," he said
rubbing his stomach.
"Grilled chicken and mushroom," stated his mother as her own stomach grumbled. "And you?" she
asked, just wanting food.
"Cheese," he said. "Just cheese. Someone once told me I had no gourmet tastebuds whatsover. I do
like a little pineapple thrown on top once in a while, so maybe that can save me."
"None?" Arihana was suprised, She liked her food. Tastebuds were important.
"How was your day?" Boston asked Arihana.
"S'all right," she nodded. "Tried to do as little as possible, and still get paid."
"It must be interesting being an officer," he said. "My own line of work gets a little loud."
"Try living with him," Arihana pointed at Suraj, "Worse than stereo surround soud."
He looked down at the small hand still holding his and smiled. It was new, dating a woman with a child,
but it wasn't unpleasant. He just hadn't been around young kids very much in the past few years. They
beat junkies.
Once they were settled down at the pizza parlor, pizza and drinks ordered and Suraj off enjoying the
kids area with other small hoodlums, Boston asked, "So what did you find out about me?"
"Well," Arihana smiled, fiddling with the stem of the glass of wine that sat next to her pizza. "You're a
lot more than a gigging would popstar. You actually are one. A proper, bone fide, rock and roll star."
"That's true," he said. "I'm here on vacation. I get tired of all the attention, lights, cameras and tugging
at my sleeve."
"You must have something of a colourful existence," she said, leaning forwards and pushing her glass
with her finger. "I caught my yeoperson swooning over you as she spoke to her friend."
"Swooning's nice," Boston said. "I really like the fans. They're very appreciative and they keep me
eating. Some performers don't want to have anything to do with them - they want their privacy. I tend
to jump in and then go off like this for a little bit to get away."
"I can swoon," Arihana said, biting her lips into her mouth so she didn't continue with the enthused
grinning. Only it was failin miserably. "Can swoon rather well, all being well."
He smiled warmly at her. "Arihana, I can't imagine you swooning, although if you wanted to, I'm sure
you could it better than anyone else. Instead of swooning though, I'd much rather you pass another
piece of pizza."
"Boston," She put out her hand, and placed an index finger onto the back of his hand. "Thing is, you
exist from a certain point. Yes, your private life is what it says on the tin. But-"
"You really did check me out," he said as an internal warning gong went off. He ignored it.
He liked her touch on his hand. Some day he'd have to tell her, but there was a lot riding on that
information and he'd have to be careful.
"Let's just say I didn't do much before a certain point," he said. "It's pretty dull. Maybe you needed to
dig deeper." He wondered if she could find out more - if a really active search could break his cover. His
smile was soft.
"You don't have to tell me anything," she whispered. "But this swooning thing that I'm trying hard not
do. It's a trifle ovewhelming. I'm trying to cope, and...."She shook her head and sat back. "Who are
you?" she asked. "You're doing my head in, you're like a fiddly rubix cube, and it really gets my goat."
"I'm a puzzle," he admitted. "Who am I? Just Boston Zaire in Archangel outfits. Under the fancy duds,
I'm an ordinary guy. Not many people bother to go beyond the glitz."
"Let's eat," She picked up a fork, "Get Suraj tucked up," Arihana said, slicing pizza. "Then you and I can
have a proper conversation, no holds barred. That okay?"
"That's more than okay," he said.
The three finished their meal and got ready to leave, when an Oriental woman came up and touched
Boston's arm. "You've been noticed," she said.
Boston turned and saw a group of fans outside looking at them.
"Arihana, Suraj, this is my bodyguard, Lieu. She and her husband are my only staff here. I'd better take
the side door. Why don't I meet you back at your place? I don't want you two to get entangled in my
mob." Now why had he said that? "Just wait a second or two until the swarm on me and then you can
get out without trouble."
Boston smiled at her, winked at Suraj and headed out the side door. The wave of fans immediately
moved toward hime, where he stood, smiling and signing autographs."
The other two made their way home.
=/\= SB BoB Security =/\=
One last place. One last person. Not least, but just in the next section. Arihana was looking for Baxter.
Somewhere on her person, was a bar of chocolate.
"Baxter? You in, Sweetie,I got chocolate." She called as she walked.
The doors opened quickly and Baxter stood there. "Come on in, Doll Babe," he said. "You're welcome
even without chocolate. Have a seat?" He reached out his hand for the bribe.
"I do like you, Bax," laughed Arihana. "You're delightful. but married. Choc-let, " she said brandishing it.
Baxter took the chocolate and split it in two, offering her half. "Now what's up?" he asked.
"baxter, brain, and borrow," Arihana spread the three padds on his desk. This was getting tiring now.
"Nanny, for suraj, help required," she said sounding like morse code.
Baxter somehow understood her. "What have you got?" he asked.
"One, karate kid, Hong Kong Phooey," she stated, not caring how politcally incorrect that was.
Baxter took the information and put it into his security computer. "Next?" he asked.
"Numero dos, Manny, bloke in a pinny, taking care of baby," Arihana shrugged.
Baxter raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It, too, went into the computer."
"And trois, Mary Poppins, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock," she exhaled before dumping
herself into a chair.
"A spoon full of sugar, helps the medicine go down," Baxter said, also feeding that information into the
computer. "Just a sec."
He watched the screen and it displayed dazzling photos of chocolate until it pinged. Then he inspected
the results. "All three have good records," Baxter said. "I could approve all three."
"Yeah, but what do you think," she asked. "Which one turns you pages, my friend."
"You want me to make a choice?" he asked. "I assume you've asked other opinions?"
Arihana nodded, "C'mon sweetie. You're like an uncle through association. And yep, have asked the
rest of the powers that be. You're in good compant."
"Okay," he said, "I like Mary Poppins. She looks bright and cheerful. Suraj could use this. There's been
trouble here and there and there will be again, but a kid should have some really happy times growing
up. I know you provide those, but more can't hurt. A tender caring woman with fun activities, as well
as being capable of getting rules followed withouth bodily harm - I pick the Poppins."
"Hmm, okay," Arihana scribbled the declaration onto the back og her hand. "Ta, muchly, my cadbury
loving buddy," she smiled to stand, blowing a kiss as she went to the door.
"Say, I did I hear you're been dating?" he asked as she reached the door.
"I dunno, did you?" Arihana stopped and turnd around.
"I did," he said. "So are you or are you not? It can't be maybe."
"No, you're quite right. I either am, or I'm not." She smirked to dig her hands into her pockets. "You
know, we've got them pair, The Vaughan and Her in Charge in happy cahoots. You are happily married,
*still*, and with child. I must be the only XO person who's a bit single. Whatchya heard?"
"That's not important," Baxter said. "Except, of course, it gives us all something to talk about.
"So, who I am dating then?" Arihana returned to sit on the edge of baxters' desk. "I'm intrigued," she
giggled. "And yeah, what base he got to, that might help too," she said, rolling her eyes in good
humour.
"Jyan?" Baxter asked. "First base?"
"Jyans' ol' news, man," tutted Arihana, rooting around a stylus holder. "Git with the program, Bax. But
you never say never again. Yeah, you were saying."
"Heard you found a new fellow," Baxter said. "Heard he could be special. Heard it was someone called
Archangel, a heavenly body. Any truth?"
"So I'm not married yet, up the duff or better still, cheating on him with the drummer from his band?"
she asked by way of clarification.
"Not yet," Baxter said. "It's too early from what I hear. You've only been seen out once and besides, his
drummer isn't here."
"Don't rule out the cheating," Arihana said gravely. "Not with his drummer, but generally. I hit a crisis a
point, sorta just happens. As for gettin' up the duff, serving officers don't tend to do that. He'd have to
have a deep and meaningful with a maturation pod, but anyway," she tutted again. This time, poking
baxter to remove herself from the probability and permuation analysis. "We've not even established if
i'm even dating yet, love."
Baxter grinned. "So you are and he is special," Baxter nodded."You've answered all my questions. I'm
going to do a background check to make sure he's on the up and up."
"Oh, I've done that," replied Arihana rather frankly. "Googled the poor chap."
"You did?" Baxter asked, and then laughed. "Still, I'm going to go official."
"Your perogative, my favourite security Chief," winked Arihana.
"Why a rock star?" Baxter asked.
"Why not?" she asked by return. "But let me play, eh, bax."
"Okay, I'm not going to press," he said. "I'll check back with you later."
"Shall love you and leave you, then," Arihana hopped off the desk, and picked up the padds this time.
"Thank you for this."
"Take care, Arihana," Baxter said. "And go do something. I want more gossip to mull over."
"I will, check tomorrow's head lines," she waved as she left, "tatty bye," Arihana chuckled. It was nice
to be nice.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Briefing Room =/\=
The Briefing Room was something of a misnomer because, as with most things Caledonia, it was just a
room with a large rickety table and mis-matched chairs. But sitting around it and studying Chess's
detailed report summary of the mission facing them, were her senior officers.
After they'd had time to read and study the details in full, Chess spoke. "So, there you have it. I intend
to make contact with the senior Brother of the Order before we arrive to sort out any local
requirements and find out if there have been any more developments. I'm going to suggest we beam
down as an away team for an initial meeting to arrange a plan of action."
She looked around the table, "Suggestions and thoughts, people? Where would you like to start
individually down there?"
Bree pushed the report away from him and wrinkled his nose. "Well I think their idea of purity is idiotic
but that doesn't change much for the medical side of things. I'd want to perform an autopsy."
"I don't see why they should refuse," Chess made a note. "I'll ask about it. Any particular reason why?"
"If they're daft enough to live in a bubble then they might be daft enough to miss things." Bree spun
slightly from side to side in his seat, "It probably was just shock. A particularly panicky and nasty way to
go but I think it's best to check. Probably should check any older medical records they've got, providing
such things aren't 'impure'..." He snorted, "...we might be able to get a pre-crazy baseline that way."
"Good point, yes. As far as I know, they wouldn't have sent his body off-world, as I believe their is an
implied promise of purity in the afterlife too. And.." she grimaced, "Since they live and are buried in a
hermetically sealed bubble, then maybe decomp won't be so pronounced. I mean, there won't be any
flies to anything.. so it might just be natural bodily bacteria that breaks down..." she looked enquiringly
at Bree.
Zerin had made the mistake of bringing a sandwich to the meeting. She was hungry when she came in.
She did not feel so hungry now.
"Indeed..." Bree sat back and steepled his fingers together as he launched himself into an explanation.
"I take it you've all heard the song, 'Circle of Life'? Well it's a bit of a misnomer, circle of decay would
be much more appropriate. But with that blasted bubble decay is going to be much slower. Much more
likely to see a sort of mummification..." The Doctor leant forward again with some relish, "You know
the sort of thing, tightened paper thin skin, sunken cheeks, dead staring eyes...should make it easy to
check on the cause of death."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're right on that.." Chess said hastily. "And if there *is* a different cause to the
death then it could shed a whole new light on the matter..." she made a firm note on her Padd to ask
permission for an exhumation, or whatever they did with their departed.
"Who'll be our main contacts there?" Zerin asked.
"Unknown, at the present time," Chess checked her notes. "I'll be making contact with the Chief
Brother of the Order tomorrow, and will get a list of key people to liaise with down there. We can meet
them on arrival. There's only about a hundred people in the whole community, so I expect we'll meet
everyone sooner or later."
"Whut about me, Cap'n?" Jinti piped up. "I c'n fly overhead but thass about all. Mebbe I c'n do some
reconnysance?"
"That's not a bad idea, lieutenant," Chess nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, even though we can scan the area
from here, there could be something we've missed. If there's someone - singular or plural - hiding out
on the island and causing mischief, then they could easily manage to evade our longer range sensors.
I'm going to send security out into the mountains to search anyway. You can provide ariel support and
cover."
"Sounds like a plan, Cap'n," Jinti agreed. "I can get places they isn't going be able at get on foot, an'
scan everything's real hard. It isn't that big anyways, is it?"
"No, not at all. Only five per cent of the planet is land mass, so it shouldn't take you more than three or
four days to cover the whole Peninsula."
"Yup, that's me sorted then," Jinti looked cheerful. "I'm I take Richards with me, we can be twice as
thorough."
"That would be good, indeed. It will only need one pilot to keep us in orbit, and I really don't foresee
any problems with unwelcome visitors," Chess replied. "The planetary warning system will tell us well
in advance if anything strays into the area, so we'll be covered."
Knowing that Richards would be happy to take a shuttle out too, Jinti say back for the moment. It all
sounded fine and dandy to her right then.
Chess summarised, "So, then, Doctor Conley will try to do an autopsy, and I'd suggest checking over
the infirmary carefully, too, see how the run things there. Security will go out on foot to search the
surrounding areas out side the dome, with helm flying cover and aerial recon. Ops - Commander fell,
where do you plan to start? You'll need to check the air filtration units, the water filtration units, and
the structure of the dome itself. What's your plan there?
"I'm going to borrow an engineer or two for that. I'm leaving Carsin here and bringing along Sandrik.
Given the scope we're dealing with here, I'll try to have as many hands as possible. I'll also need to
enlist some of the engineers down there."
"Commander Fell, as it says in the report briefing, there are Brothers with engineering and technical
skills down there who maintain the system." Chess gave Zerin a little look. "Liaising with them will be a
priority once we arrive. You can also have Crewman Dennis Erendin seconded to your team. I'll be
taking Crewman Rodgers with me on our own investigations, and I shall leave Crewman Pengarsick on
the ship to keep an eye on things up here."
Now Zerin felt stupid. Her conversation with Aunt Zelda had been on her mind. She needed to pay
attention.
"Now, I think that's the basic tasks allocated. Are there any further questions, or anything that we need
to sort out before we arrive?"
"I just realized something," Zerin said. "We also should team up with whatever scientists are down
there. We won't really have a feel for how this big bubble operates until we can see it up close."
Bree wrinkled his nose, "Assuming they're any use. Until recently they thought the bubble operated in
a completely hermetic fashion and something has gone wrong there. I'd take their expertise with a
pinch of salt." What Bree meant was he was going to ignore the Brothers where possible.
Chess's lips twitched into an almost-grin but she forbore to comment.
"Have they been checked for mental illness?" asked Bree bluntly. "I mean properly and independently.
I'm sure they think living in a bubble is quite sane but me? Not so much."
Jinti chortled, "Yup, I wuz thinkin' the same. They must be nuts, hiding away an' not ever partyin' or.."
she checked hersefl, "Stuff.." she mumbled.
Chess cut over her, "As far as I know, yes, they are checked. Apparently the selection process is quite
rigorous so I imagine that assessing suitability for that sort of lifestyle is important. I can't see the
attraction myself, but I suppose it takes all sorts."
She stood up, "If there's no more questions, I'll ask you to brief your departments now, and I'll update
you all again once I've spoken to the Chief Brother in a couple of days time." Dismissing them about
their duties, Chess led the general exodus out and back to their various departments.
=^= Dharma quarters =^=
Boston Zaire grinned as he went through the door. "I think my hand is broken," he laughed. "I signed
and I signed. Sorry it took so long."
"No probs," replied Arihana, beckoning him in, "Guess it's something of a occupational hazard.Make
yourself at home." She returned to the kitchen a moment, since dinner had been terminated early.
Arihana saw to an after drinner drink. She had no idea whether he was a coffee or a tea drinker. Hence
both on a tray on the coffee table
"Has Suraj gone to bed or do we get to play games?" he asked. "I love card games and old-fashioned
board games."
"He's asleep," she nodded. "Had some mission trying to get him to stop bouncing. Serves me right for
plying him with a sundae."
"You wanted to talk," he said.
"Yep," she nodded, depositing herself on the counch and pouring herself a mug of tea. "Help yourself, I
don't stand on ceremony."
Boston reached for the teapot, too, poured a cup, added milk and sugar and then sat down opposite
her. He took a sip.
"Boston, I wanted your side of the story," she stated, pouring milk into her mug. "Google only tells a
girl so much. I'd much rather hear it from the horses' mouth as it were."
"I like my secrets," he said smiling.
"I did say before, that you don't have to tell me anything. You can sit there and look pretty if you
want," Arihana chuckled to shrug her shoulders. "No skin of my nose. I have no problem with you
doing that. Looking pretty."
Boston struck a model-type pose and winked. "What do you know about me?"
"You're some rather super, all singing all dancing fella," Arihana kicked off her shoes, revealing blue
and white striped socks. "Started off with a band, something small time, only for it to esclate, and
then," She shuffled in her seat, all very rather animated. "ARCHANGLE!" she exclaimed, "Screaming,
swooning groupies, mad crowds," Arihana mimiced the sound of crowds.
"Any bit of you that's normal?" she asked, changing tack suddenly.
"Lots of me's normal," Boston said. "I like music. One day I got tired of doing boring, low-paying jobs,
like washing dishes in restaurants and having cooks yell at me. I just decided I'd try my hand at singing
and song-writing and hooked up with another guy in the kitchen, a singing waiter. We managed to
convince a few bar owners they needed us to attract customers or at least to make customers forget
how tacky their places were and we started to play guitars, piano and sing. We didn't make a cent."
"Then something really odd happened. What we were enjoying began to attract attention. We'd play in
the park and small crowds would gather. The cheap bars began to fill up with people when we were
playing. We began to get paid better and we dropped our day jobs. Some agent noticed us and got us
better jobs. We added a couple more band members, starting wearing clothes without holes in them
and kaboom! We were born. But to answer your question, I'm just a normal guy with fancy clothes and
good voice."
"You don't have a psychopathic streak do you?" Arihana asked, in all seriousness with a squnit.
"Not that I've noticed," he said. "Then again, if I were psychopathic, would I notice?"
"Not at first, but folks around you might.You're not one of those nice as pice, yes dear, no dear, hang
on my every word kinda fellas?" she asked, now her brows were raised. "Don't want another one of
them, sweetie. *Trust* me."
He laughed. "Oh, no, don't worry about that," he said. "I think too much of myself to hang on your
every word." Then he turned more serious. "I know how to be nice," he said, "but women dating me
don't have an easy time of it. I'm not Archangel eight hours a day and then me. I'm always Archangel
and I'm always meeting fans or having my plans changed. I get moody and I get temperamental when
I'm composing. I also tend to attract a lot of media attention and anyone I'm seen with will get that,
too. It's not an easy ride with me. Interested?"
"Could be," Arihana looked reflective. As though she was mulling over the finer points of a Ford Fiesta.
"There's something else I'd like you to be sure of," Boston said. "The rock star scene is all drink and
drugs and wild sex. Oddly enough, I approach it as my job. I'm always asked about the drugs. Are you
on drugs? Do you take them? Do you? Do you? Interviewers are digging for dirt, but in that case, I'm
clean. When I was growing up, I saw plenty of people who didn't fare well with drugs and I decided I
wasn't going to fry my brain on something unnatural. I don't use em, not even those recreational fun
drugs. Just wanted you to know since you've got Suraj. I figure you can make up your own mind about
that, but with a kid, you've got to be concerned about what comes through your door."
"And that's something I appreciate," she said easily. "Thank you."
"That's as nice as I get," he said grinning.
"I can deal with that," Arihana was seriously thinking about it. Could she, deal with it, and how much
exactly?
"Any other questions, Counsellor?" he asked.
Arihana exhaled deeply. "None, I think we're good for the moment," she said smiling.
"How about you, any entanglements right now?" he asked.
"None," she was rather confident about that."But I'm open to persuasion, and a girl can change her
mind."
"Can I ask about Suraj's father?" Boston asked.
"You could," she nodded. "but it would rather spoil the ambience."
"Fine and dandy. Now for a more serious question, do you want to play Monopoly or not?" Boston
grinned.
"Monopoly?"Arihana arched a brow. "Go on then," she sat back, somewhat amused. "I'll take Old kent
road, overy any pall mall or mayfair. "
"I get the railroads," he stated emphatically. "I'm partial to trains."
He set up the game. "You can go first," he added, "but I get the old-fashioned train engine token,
deal?"
"I'll take the boot then," Arihana smirked, making for the silver boot.
He moved watched her move; rolled the dice and landed on "chance." "Go to jail," he read. "Figures."
He grinned.
=^= Security office =^=
Baxter Mattingly looked at the doll, which looked at him. It was somehow unnerving to have himself
miniaturized, but he didn't really have any idea where to put it to get it out of the way. He thought
he'd give it to Yus after their son was born.
For now, he put the doll on the small side-table nearby and heard it say, "I've been greedy."
"Yes, I know you are, Ducks," Baxter said. He nibbled on his chocolate.
The process of preparing reports was never pleasant for Baxter except when he was noting Betti
Bonita's missives. She still wrote to the base even though Vega was gone. Baxter had to forward all the
messages.
He went out and did his rounds and returned with two more reports to write up. Then he leaned back
in his chair and began to think of greed. Why had that come into his head? He was going to think about
his daughter. Maybe that was greed? Or was his urge for chocolate greedy? No, he always shared. Was
he greedy? He didn't think so. He wouldn't share his wife, of course, but he'd been taught to play
properly.
He shook his head and looked at the doll. "Wish you had another word," he told it. You know, 'I'm sexy.
I'm rich.' Something like that."
With a sigh, he got up and went to check on his wife.
=/\= SB BoB - Holodeck =/\=
Reeds walked toward the Holodeck, dressed in his most casual clothes - a t-shirt, a pair of old sneakers,
and a pair of shorts that he had been encouraged to buy for this occasion. He had no idea what the
counselor was thinking when she suggested playing squash as therapy, unless she was trying to take
Doctor Bonnenfant's job in giving him *physical* therapy. The different method of counseling might
even be refreshing, had it not been for his inexperience and physical condition. He was in no position
to argue, though, as he had agreed to unconditional counseling.
Arriving at the holodeck doors, he took a soothing breath and walked inside.
"My next victim. Hello, Reeds," Counsellor Dharma was stood with her leg propped up against the wall
as she taped up her right knee. This particular suite had been metamorphed in a squash court. The
walls were shiny and glossed as was the floor.
"Hello, counselor," he greeted amiably enough, walking just far enough into the room to allow the
doors to close. "I don't suppose I can talk you out of this."
"No," she replied, rolling down the leg of the three quarter length joggers. "Unfortunately for you,
talking is my profession. You couldn't talk me outta this, if you tried." She said with a menacing smile,
as she picked up a racquet and twirled.
"All right," Reeds said with a slight sigh as he walked over to pick up a racquet. "Just to be perfectly
clear, I've never played before and I'm not quite one hundred percent, so go easy on me, all right?"
Arihana shrugged, reaching into her pocket and bouncing the round blue pallet before smashing it
towards the wall.
Typically rather agile, the crewman was hampered by his weakened state and barely managed to move
quickly enough to send the ball back to the wall, assuming that it was what he was supposed to do, as
the rules had not been explained to him. "You have quite an arm."
"You should see me with a baseball bat," Arihana replied, her rubber soled trainers squeaked across
the floor as she went for the return. "Make this a practice raleigh, I do hope you stretched before
hand."
"Sure I did," he lied as he took a giant, off balance step and stretched to just barely return the shot.
"Okay, for a baseline aim, what do you see as the projected outcome of our sessions," asked the
counsellor reaching for a far side volley on her left. She hit it with a skewed reach so pinged off the wall
and straight at Reeds.
"Well..." he began before he noticed the ball getting increasingly large, and at eye level. He *just*
managed to sidestep the projectile and contacted it with his racquet more out of defensive reaction
than an effort to continue the game, but it worked nonetheless.
"Careful, mate," winced Dharma. "Most retinal detachments occur on the squash court. But yes, go on,
what would you like to achieve?"
"Honestly, my original motivation to agreeing to these 'sessions' was to get you to realize that I can't
perform my duties if I'm flying with Quide."
Arihana sprinted behind Reeds to make contact with the bounced return, smashing it diagonally across
the court. "Your altercations with Quide, from my interpretation, excuse me, watch your elbow-"
Reeds, in his efforts to run and catch up with the ball, almost managed to smack his superior officer in
the face with his elbow, and would have, but for her warning. He muttered a quick "Sorry," and dove
to return the ball.
"A few more seconds of practice, your run ins," Arihana ducked as the squash ball went over her head.
"Are perhaps the residue of other more deeper profound issues. So we should work backwards,
perhaps. Take your problems with Quide, and work down the hierarchy."
"You're the counselor," he said to both her hypothesis and her suggestion.
Arihana stuck out her leg a moment, and twirled her foot. So far so good. No acute tendonitis. She
wasn't supposed to be doing this. It seemed an age ago that Drexer had replaced the knee cap. If he
knew, and if Bonnefant knew, Arihana would be toast. If playing football was no-no.So was squash.
"You ready then?" She asked, twirling the bat. "I do have to tell you that this session is being
monitored by the ECH. The emergancy counselling Hologram. It will be used as the basis of your case
history. It is entirely confidential. Bar a subpoena from them jobsworths at SFHQ, or on a more
localised level the Commanding Officer of this facility if your ability to do your job is fatally
compromised in your case and that of fellow officers." She exhaled, the rant got longer with every
memo.
Ahh the legal disclaimer. Reeds was quite familiar with those. Fortunately for the Reeds, there was a
precedent for dismissing artificial intelligence as a witness to just about anything based on some Kirk
court martial X0 years ago, should anything come up that would sully his record. He didn't know the
specifics, but it was something about Vulcans, chess, and a very irregular set of court proceedings.
Hopefully, he wouldn't have to challenge anything, though.
"I'm ready," he said with a confident nod as he stretched his already aching muscles. "Where should
we start?"
"Like I said, Quide." replied Dharma doiking the squash pellet across the wall.
"I know you want to talk about my issues with Quide, but what I don't know is what about them you
don't understand." There was no irritation in Reeds' voice, it was just a statement of fact. "I've told you
that the only problem I have is a desire to live, which I don't feel is aided in any way by continuing to fly
with the one that nearly got me killed."
"Perhaps he made a mistake?" sounded the counsellor.
"I don't fault him an error in judgement," Reeds said with a shrug. "Who doesn't make a mistake now
and then? But what I can't forgive is a lack of sense. He just sat there, staring out into literal space
while we were fired at."
Arihana felt her brain rattle, that made sense of some description. "I can neither confirm or deny prior
knowledge," she said, her shoes squeaking across the floor. "All right, so you don't want to fly with
him. You feel a clear and present danger to your ability to live. An ability that in all logic prevents you
doing your job."
"Yes, you have it," he said flatly, weakly returning the ball with a swing from his sore arm.
"And you pair have spoken about this, remind me," she said trying not whack her patient in the ribs.
"No, I haven't brought it up to him. I didn't see what good that would do, to be honest." He grimaced
as his racquet connected with the ball once more. His strike barely managed to hit the wall, and
bounced weakly over to the counselor.
"So at logger heads, we need to resolve this, don't we?" Arihana paused, to catch the ball and mop her
brow. She was ignoring the twinge in her knee.
"I *am* here for resolution," Reeds agreed.
"What really brasses you off, about Quide?" She asked, serving again. "I want a full scale
denuncication, within limits," she added with a nod.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you, it's just a matter of self preservation," Reeds said, a
little irritably. "Sure, he has some other annoying qualities, but those hardly affect my ability to work,
so they're not what I came to you about."
"Computer, show projection," Arihana yelled it as her pellet headed towards the image of Quide.
"Ow!" the holo-Quide yelped as he was impacted in the shoulder. "Bloody 'ell?"
"Interesting technique," Reeds commented, not specifying between this mode of therapy or her ballserving form.
"See if you can smack him sideways," she said breathlessly, "and talk me through it."
Reeds sighed and walked over to retrieve the ball. He looked at the holo-Quide which was now
standing back in its original upright and still posture. "He's confusing," the crewman said passively and
swatted the ball at the figure. The ball simply bounced off, and the hologram looked around as though
it wasn't sure if anything had hit him.
Arihana smacked it back again. "Please continue with your character analysis," she sounded.
He caught the ball and held it a moment. "He is totally idiotic most of the time, then pretends to have
some sort of profound insight out of no where. And even if his observations are right, they are nothing
but wild guesses, but I know it goes to his head." Though his voice gained a bit of feeling, his aching
arm's swings did not. It was all he could do to propel the ball forward at all, and he wasn't inclined to
hurt himself for the sake of this exercise.
The counsellor simply flicked her wrist to short pan it back. "Do you think he's a bit snidey, pompous,
looking for a chance to un-ravel stuff?"
"He thinks he knows people," Reeds said, choosing his words carefully so as not to give any more away
than he needed to. "He thinks he understands what motivates and drives people, and he thinks he can
use it to his own advantage, but he doesn't know the first thing about reading people. You can't just
look at someone and know what makes them tick." He almost added more about his own experiences
in analyzing people, but stopped himself. Self incrimination was *not* one of the reasons he agreed to
therapy.
"Stop simulation." Arihana had been mid swing. Only she stopped as her knee gave way. She spoke
from being flat on her back. Her racquet landed on the floor with a thud. "ow." She said simply, before
standing up.
Oh lord. Old lady counselor went and hurt herself, and he would get the blame for playing squash with
her. "Are you all right?" he asked, hoping it was so, for his sake.
"I'm fine," she replied, picking up her racquet. "But you have some serious issues about perception,
theory of mind and empathy," she declared, spinning the bat. "Not to mention with Quide," she added
wryly.
"I could have told you I have issues with Quide," Reeds said, not touching her comments about his
other issues. "Actually, I think I did, didn't I?" he corrected, trying not to sound *too* much like the
observation wasn't worth the time. "So where do we go from here?"
"We've made a start, and over time we shall continue," said the counsellor, gingerly turning her ankle.
"I want you to go away, think about what the similarities and differences are, between you and Quide.
Then we'll meet and discuss."
Lovely. Homework. "Are we done here for now then?"
"I whiff," Arihana wrinkled up her nose, "and I have other appointments. Shall have to depart. Until
next time," she said with a smile and made for the door. "Maybe something else next time," she said
pausing briefly. "Some other sport. T'ra for now."
Reeds briefly though to ask what the correlation between sports and counseling was, but thought
better of it. He had been just a little too forthright during the session for his liking as it was, and there
was no need to cause himself any more trouble down the line by questioning her methods. To that
end, he also had to do as she asked and compare himself to Quide, or else risk being written up as
uncooperative.
Sighing in resignation, he gave a wave to the counselor and headed out to the nearest turbolift. He
didn't have to ask the computer where Quide would be - he'd show up in the upper flight deck to finish
work on the Valkyries sooner or later, and when he did, Reeds could make some observations about
his character and mannerisms. At least he could enjoy himself up until that point by making a dent in
his new book.
=/\= SB BoB - Level 77 =/\=
"Welcome to Level 77," Mulder opened the door and grinned at Captain Cadwallader. The new
quarters that she and Cade now shared had never been referred to by a number, they were simply
known to all now as 'Level 77'. It had a sort of ring to it.
"Aha..." the tall Welsh CO peered inside, "The inner Sanctum. I've been looking forward to being nosey
ever since the gossip reached my. And I've brought a housewarming gift. Strangest one I've ever been
asked for, but I did say you could choose *anything*..."
"Come along in, and it smells wonderful," Mulder stepped aside as Caddie entered, bearing a large
delicately decorated pot from which savoury aromas were wafting.
"As requested, one home cooked meal. And the crock pot too - proper Portmerion China, that is. A real
taste of Wales." Caddie looked around with undisguised admiration at the sophisticated but
comfortable interior. "Good grief, I wish I had quarters like these on the Enforcer."
"One thing we don't lack around here is space," Mulder relieved her of the dish and led the way
through the lounge and into the kitchen and dining space. "What's in this?"
"Freshly prepared by the ship's cook. It's brown trout, poached with leeks in a creamy cheese sauce
with baby new potatoes. A meal fit for any Welshman."
"He'll love it. He cooks so often, and always makes fantastic meals - but I bet he'll appreciate the night
off." Mulder placed it carefully on the counter top.
There had been an ulterior motive in her invitation. Not that Caddie would have budged from
spacedock before she'd had the chance to peek at the new set-up, of course, and nor would Mulder
have denied her. But the cryptic conversation she'd had with her father a few days ago was still
niggling at the back of her mind, and she thought she'd see what Caddie knew about what odd events
might be going on along the borders.
But that could wait for a few minutes. "So, do I get the full tour?" Caddie grinned.
"Sure you do," Mulder felt ridiculously proud of their new home, and rather enjoyed showing Caddie
around, although she only opened the bedroom door a little for a quick look. That was their private
chamber, and Caddie was quite discreet enough not to do anything but make an appreciative noise at
the decor.
"So where is the man himself?" she asked, having exhausted every other nook and cranny in the
apartment, and made pointed remarks about becoming a lodger next time they put into the station.
"Working late, there's quite a lot to sort out still, he wants everything to be in good order for his
successor," Mulder's face fell, even though she'd reconciled herself to the facts days ago now.
Caddie gave a sympathetic smile, "Bad timing, really. You two only just getting yourselves sorted out at long last. And now this."
"Ah, well, it has to happen. He needs to get a new arm grown and attached, so it would have meant a
trip away anyhow. I hear that the new guy is on his way as we speak."
"Yep, sure is. I know the Pendragon was diverted for a troop pick-up last week," Caddie had the details
of all her ships on instant recall. "So I don't expect they'll be long. Who's the lucky newcomer? Want
me to call the Pendragon and get a name?"
"Nah, it really doesn't matter," Mulder shrugged. "It's a replacement, that's all there is to it. Doesn't
matter who he is." Since he wasn't Cade, the whole point was pretty much moot as far as she was
concerned.
Caddie shot her friend a quick concerned look but made no direct comment. She could sort of
understand the feeling. "Won't be the same without a hooligan Welshman around to keep you lot in
order," she poked. "Now, how about a cup of tea?"
"Sure. I can make tea," Mulder announced smugly. "I've learned how. The Colonel taught me, and I got
a few other tips from Mrs Comfort."
For a moment Caddie started laughing, then she stopped. "Wait a minute. You aren't joking, are you?"
"No I'm jolly well not joking."
"You... can't cook?"
"Hell no. I'm Jaz'Aarian. What would I need to cook for?"
Caddie smirked, "Don't worry, I'm not so brilliant in the kitchen myself. That's why I keep a chef on
board. It's only in the worst romantic space-fiction that the gallant warrior female is also a dab hand at
Cordon Blue cookery. In the real world, we have jobs to do."
"Isn't *that* the truth," Mulder grinned. "Besides, the Colonel is an excellent chef, and what's more he
finds it relaxing."
"Now that's a skill I wouldn't have expected.. although... maybe it isn't so surprising. He always
manages to achieve the unexpected," Caddie was still taking in the surroundings as Mulder carefully
prepared tea, and handed a mug of the hot brew. "With milk."
"I should think to too," Caddie took a cautious sip, then chuckled. "Pretty good. Very drinkable. Yes, I'd
say you've got the knack."
"Good. Now let's grab a seat. I want to pick your brains."
"Oh, I should have known there was more to this invitation than a simple housewarming tour," Caddie
gave a mock groan as she wandered back into the lounge, with it's small cosy fire flickering in it's grate.
Sitting herself down on one of the long comfortable couches, she sank back into the cushions. "Right,
Captain. What do you want to know? Fire away."
"What do you know about the Breen?"
"The Breen?" Caddie looked surprised at the question. "As much as anyone does, which isn't a great
deal, I suppose. After the Dominion Wars they just retreated back into their area of space and haven't
really made much noise since. Apart from the basic stuff that's on the standard databases, I don't know
if anyone *really* knows much about them. I think the first time I ever saw a Breen in the flesh was a
few years ago, remember?"
"When you escorted those dissidents to BoB with the returned prisoners from Starbase Sigma?"
"Exactly," Caddie took a sip of tea. "That was a turn-up for the books. Seems their internal politics is a
bit fractured. But since they haven't really made any trouble for the Federation as a species, then they
tend to get left alone. I know there's been the odd bit of a pop-up on the radar from time to time, but
nothing to cause any major alarms."
"Okay.." Mulder didn't look particularly satisfied.
"Why do you ask? Do you know something I don't?"
Mulder wasn't going to start taking about the Patriots and her father's subtle hints - partly because she
didn't have a clue if she was even on the right lines. "Oh, just something someone said a little while
ago. Some vague indication that they might be players, or something."
"I'm sure if they were planning a major invasion then it'd have been picked up on someone's radar.
There's plenty of listening posts with an ear for stuff like that," Caddie said dismissively.
"Anything you've had first-hand experience of, though?" Mulder persisted. "Anything specific to this
area?"
"Hmm, let's see... there's always so much happening around here that it's hard to remember it all,
sometimes," Caddie grinned. "Although, there *was * that time, last year, when the Enforcer had a
brush with the Breen. I suppose that was a little odd."
"Do tell."
"Not a great deal to it, really. We were out on patrol when we noticed some ships behaving a bit
suspiciously. When we investigated, they were of Breen origin, reading Breen life-signs. The idiots
opened fire on us, it started to get abit antsy out there. So we returned fire, only intending to disable
them. But their shields must have been a bit crap, as one just exploded. The other, instead of breaking
away, tried to get back to the ship that was breaking up and got caught in it's fireball, destroyed
outright too. We didn't lose any sleep over it, needless to say."
"So you've no way of knowing what they were up to?"
"Not really. They were heading towards Sayl'reth space, which was a bit odd too. Maybe they were
renegades, escaped from their regime and living a pirates life. This is where *all* the scavengers tend
to wind up, sooner or later. They might have been doing a few dodgy deals - you know what the
Sayl'reth are like for acquiring technology. Their ships certainly weren't powerful enough to be starting
a war."
Mulder had a tiny premonition prickle at the back of her neck as she asked, "Anything else, anything
more recent?"
"Now you mention it, I suppose there was," Caddie said thoughtfully. "Earlier this year, the USS
Pendragon had a fleeting encounter. Nothing serious, again. They came upon a ship lying dead in
space, and went to see if it needed assistance. As they approached, it powered up and fired off a shot
and high-tailed it out of there."
"Did they give chase?"
"No, the ship really belted away, and it wasn't considered worth the while. They did get readings of
Breen life-signs aboard, and this ship was a lot better constructed than the ones we'd encountered the
year before."
"So what was the thinking there?" Mulder leaned forward expectantly.
"Hard to tell. But I suppose they might have been testing the waters. Dipping a toe in, seeing how far
they could venture into our space without being challenged. Might have been just a crew being a bit
bolshy and mucking about, or might be the fore-runner of some action. But since it was so isolated,
then it's impossible to tell. I suppose after thirty years there must be *some* changes in their
direction, although I can't for one minute imagine there's any serious invasion plans on the table."
"No, I'm sure you're right," Mulder believed that, but at the same time she didn't believe that the
Breen would do something so random for no real reason.
"That satisfy your curiosity, madam?" Caddie grinned.
"Yeah, I guess," Mulder gave a small laugh, "It was just a passing curiosity. I know we're not really close
enough to Breen space to be affected by anything they do over there, but I like to have an ear to the
ground, you know?"
"Curiosity is a virtue," caddie intoned. "And now, you can indulge me, too. I want to hear all the latest
gossip.."
Two more cups of tea later and an in-depth gossip about all the personal lives of everyone tyey knew,
and Caddie placed her cup down and stood up. "Thankl you for the tea, tour and scurrilous accounts,"
she grinned. "I'd better shift it back to my ship, we're pulling out tonight. Back to work and the wild
frontier."
"It's been fun, and thank you for your gift," the savoury scent was still gently present. "I'll heat it up
once the Colonel gets back from the Marine Deck and we shall enjoy it, and raise a glass to you and
yours."
"A pleasure. Give him my very best regards and tell him to hurry back. The sector needs him, the damn
hooligan."
After Caddie had departed, Mulder wandered back to the dining room and started laying the table for
dinner. Her actions were on auto-pilot for the most part, as she mulled over the scraps on information
that Caddie had given her.
The clues in her father's oblique message had all pointed to the Breen. And now, it seemed there had
indeed been some unexplained random occurrences concerning them. What it all meant, and what it
added up to, might be nothing at all... but she doubted that. Something was afoot, and the trouble was
she had no way of telling what, when, why or how.
She had a sneaking suspicion that there was a whole lot more to come - and once a trail like that had
started, it usually led into dangerous waters.
=/\= SB BoB - Upper Flight Deck =/\=
Quid exited the turbolift and made his way passed the line of Valkyries, dollish version of himself in
hand. He had been surprised when the computer had told him where Reeds was, but sure enough,
when he cleared the fighters and looked over at the new pilot's lounge, there was the Crewman, laying
back on one of the couches, looking up at the open book he was holding over head.
As Quide approached, Reeds spoke up without looking over to him, apparently reading from the book.
"I'm walking through a dark forest at night, or at least I think it's night. Truthfully, it feels like its been
days, but the canopy of the woods is so thick that I can't make out the sky, and barely enough light
makes it passed the leaves to allow me to stumble my way forward, ever forward, through the trees.
I see a light in the distance, heralding the end to my trek - an end to the trees, to the dark, to the
journey that was seemingly endless to this point. I start to run. I trip over roots and fallen branches,
but I don't care. I pick myself up and push onward, longing to get out of this maddening, frightening
forest, as if my longing alone will make it so, given the right intensity. My heart soars with every step.
I'm tired, so tired, but I know now that it all hasn't been in vain. I will get out. I WILL get out.
The light becomes brighter, signaling my getting nearer. I had briefly feared it to be an illusion, but it
grows with such consistency to my steps, how could it not be real? I'm sprinting now, hurtling myself
toward it, my skin cut from running into trees and threw the sparse, thorny bushes that grow
throughout the woods. Something seems off about the light - it is focused in one spot, not spread
widely out over the horizon. It seems more like an end to a tunnel than a forest, but I don't care.
Whatever it is, it's better than the woods.
I finally come upon the light, but remain in the forest. My heart sinks, and I sink with it, falling to my
knees in exhaustion and heartache. The light... the light...
The light was you holding a flashlight, in order to better show me that I was no where near the end of
the forest! You laugh, you give me a raspberry, and then merrily walk away, a happier person for your
torture of the sobbing man you leave behind."
After a stunned moment of confused silence, Quide offers his expert observation. "Not too uplifting a
story I take it?"
"They tend not to be," Reeds said casually, not even having to try to hide any kind of annoyance over
the obviousness of Quide's comment. The book had put him in a fairly good mood. "These stories of
life long obsession and hardship tend to not be the 'Happily Ever After' kind. Just now the detective has
caught up with the criminal mastermind for the third time. I think he's starting to go a little batty from
the pursuit."
"Third time?" Quide blinked. "Are y'nearly done with the book then?"
The crewman held the book a bit higher so as to show that he was little more than a fourth of the way
into the story. "From what I understand, there are a great deal of narrow escapes for both of them still
to come.
"Well, I'm certainly 'appy y'are enjoying it," Quide said with a beaming smile. It was good to see Reeds
at least content about something. "I almost don't want to ask y'to 'elp me with this now, so as to not
interrupt ya, but it might not take that long, and I'll pay y'for y'trouble o course."
Huh. Getting paid for presumably honest work that didn't involve Starfleet. The idea intrigued Reeds
enough for him to sit up and set down his book, slipping a piece of fabric between the pages before
closing it. "What did you have in mind?"
Tom handed Reeds the doll and spoke as the crewman examined it, telling him all about his meeting
with Gristle the salesman and the amazing transformation he had witnessed that turned the doll from
bland and uninteresting into a dashingly handsome mini-Quide.
"So y'see, I actually got rather lucky," Quide explained. "The doll 'as a random saying in it that just
'appens to fit me rather well. The only problem is that the voice sounds like a little boy and that's 'ardly
accurate. So, I was wondering, since y'showed a knack for figuring out electronics by tinkering with
them when y'were patching up the 'ybrids, y'could find out 'ow to tweak the audio on this thing so the
voice sounds a mite more like mine. I'd do it myself, but I'm afraid o damaging the thing."
"What does it say?" Reeds asked, seemingly ignoring most of what Quide had said and turning the doll
all around to see if there was a way to activate the speech.
As if on cue, the mini Quide spoke up. [I'm thirsty]
"Ah yes. That does about sum you up," Reeds observed with a smirk. "What are you going to do with it
anyway? Give it to your parents?"
Though confused by Reeds apparent evasion of talking about the requested task, this was possibly the
most voluntary conversation the crewman had taken part in with Quide since he first arrived, and
Quide didn't want to discourage friendliness. "I briefly thought about that, but only briefly. I don't get
on well with my dad, and if I gave it to my mom, she'd get an earful from 'im. So, rather than 'old onto
my likeness like someone 'oo keeps their own picture in their wallet, I thought I'd give it to someone
else."
"Ah, Jinti," Reeds said matter-of-factly with a nod. Quide looked like he was about to talk, but Reeds
barreled on ahead. "Well, you're going to have to give it to her as it is, because I can't do anything with
it."
On the verge of asking one question, Quide now had a wholly different one on his mind. "'Ow do
y'know y'can't before y'even try? I doesn't sound like too 'ard of a job."
Reeds nodded agreeably and handed the doll back to its owner before retrieving his book, holding it in
one hand with his finger replacing the book mark, ready to fling it open. "You're absolutely right. Audio
players are very simplistic pieces of machinery, as you should well know with all of the music you listen
to. If it was as simple as changing the pitch, even you could do it, like you said. The problem is your
concern about damaging the doll. To get at the voice box, I would have to cut it open, and I have no
idea what that would do to it. There could be micro circuitry all throughout this fabric that causes its
color to change in accordance with the DNA sampling it receives, and cutting into it might severe the
circuit and ruin its ability to maintain the facade beyond my ability to repair."
Taking the doll back, Quide didn't look at all disappointed, but instead, resolved. "There's only one
thing I can do then."
Reeds was already gazing into his book again, eyes skimming the lines to find where he had left off.
"What is that?" he asked in a voice that didn't convey any real curiosity.
"If I can't change the doll..." Quide said, determination on his face and in his voice, before clearing his
throat and continuing in a grating falsetto that nearly matched the doll's own prepubescent voice. "I'll
jut 'ave to change me!"
Reeds tossed his book down on the couch, not bothering with the bookmark and proceeded to rub his
temples to stave off the fast encroaching migraine. So much for his good mood.
=/\= SB BoB - Main Engineering =/\=
"Mulder to Quide. Songbird, I have a little job for you, if you don't mind the thought of flying into a
possible storm of unknown magnitude in an area of immense danger. That's alright with you, isn't it?"
she grinned to herself.
^That's quite all right with me,^ came the somewhat disappointed reply over the comm. ^But I'd much
rather 'old out for a certain storm o a known, tremendous magnitude if it's all the same to ya.^
"Get down here to main engineering, and I'll explain." she closed the comm.
Up on the flight deck, Quide looked over to a lounging Crewman Reeds with a mock smug look on his
face. "While y'stuck on the station, I get to fly off to certain doom."
Not even looking up from his book, the crewman muttered a quick, "Have fun with that," as Quide
rushed off to the turbolift.
******
"Over here," Mulder beckoned and wasted no time in explaining as Tom approached. "A couple of
sensor array enhancers," she pointed to the two large contraptions on the floor in front of her. As high
as her waist and several feet square in a boxy, cubic nightmarish way, they were a-twinkle with small
panels and filaments. "Don't ask me how they work, I couldn't tell you. And don't ask an engineer how
they work or he *will* tell you and your eyes will glaze over and your head hurt. I made that mistake.."
she grinned at the referenced engineer who just chuckled back.
Lieutenant Quide blinked down at the devices and looked back up at Mulder. "I'll be sure to keep a
sock in my natural curiosity, but should I be warned against asking what these 'ave to do with the
danger I was promised?"?
"Situation is, there's something brewing in the Typhon Expanse," Mulder gave him a quick précis of the
back-story; the mini wormhole that shouldn't have happened, the investigation by Cadet Andrews, and
the deduction from the readings obtained that there was the strong possibility of a severe storm that
might catch them in it's path. "And since we're sitting ducks, we need to know magnitude and what
window of escape we have - if we need to take the drastic step of general evacuation," she finished.
"That seems a mite drastic," Quide agreed. "But surely a station this..." he sought in vain for an
accurate adjective that might imply BoB was any kind of sturdy, but soon gave up. "Couldn't we just
batten down the 'atches or something?"
"I know, the station *should* be sturdy enough and well shielded enough to withstand something like
that. And in normal circumstances, then I wouldn't be overly concerned. But the, up, dips and
ripples..." she was trying to remember Andrews explanation, ".. they point to something much, much
bigger than we've ever experienced out here before. Possibly. They might quieten down of their own
volition, we just don't know."
He wondered if there was any point to the wavy ripple talk other than making him sea sick. Though it
might come as a surprise, Quide had never handled the turbulence of boat rides well at all. But that
was another story altogether. "And that's why y'aving me fly these whatevertheyares out into
whatever it is that's brewing out there? To find out?"
"Yep, I need you to load these babies into a shuttle and fly out to the edge of the expanse and launch
them. The last ones got mashed, and we just didn't get around to replacing them last month, what
with everything else going on. These will enhance the signal from the science equipment and make it
easier for Cadet Andrews to determine when the storm is going to strike, what the magnitude is, and if
we're in it's path or not."
"As easily done as said, Slow Riding Captain," he said with a quirky grin before looking back at the
devices. "So will those things fit into a 'ybrid, or..."
"..or the Knight-Mare?" she finished for him.
"That's what I was 'oping for," he beamed. "I've been wanting another go at that clunky old bird. The
last time I flew the Knight-Mare I couldn't rightly appreciate it because I was..." ~Don't say drunk, don't
say drunk, don't say drunk!~ "...sleeping." He smacked himself upside the head inwardly. "Well, not
sleeping per say, but tired. Y'know. It was a long survey mission and rather boring." ~Nice save!~
"Well you'll be disappointed then," she said smartly. "Because they *will* fit into a hybrid shuttle."
"But... but..." Quide stammered, at a loss. He had so been looking forward to it.
"Those hybrids are made of solid stuff, they aren't going to fold," Mulder said, and it was probably true
as well. "Don't get too close to the Expanse, just as near as you feel is safe, and launch them. Frankly,
*anything* close to the Expanse is better than what we've got now."
"All right..." he said begrudgingly. "I really 'aven't given any o the 'ybrids a proper run down in a while
anyway. I guess this is as good an excuse as any." His usual grin returned and he gestured to the
devices. "So when do I leave? I want to get at it while the conditions are just rough enough to be fun
and not turn my ship inside out."
"As soon as you can," Mulder said promptly. "Within the hour, preferably. Unless you had other
plans?" There followed a look of 'if you have got other plans, tough titty, bud.' as she gave a serene
smile.
"Well I was going to stay at 'ome and admire my doll some more..." he began, but then he noticed the
look she gave and shrugged. "But it is an ugly little thing, isn't it? I don't know where it got it from. I'll
prep the 'ybrid straight away if I can get those sensor dealies to go."
"Good. Don't take any risks out there," Mulder warned. "Normally, I'd prefer to just launch them from
the station. But when we do that they either overshoot the mark and disappear into the Expanse and
get eaten, or they hit a magnetic repellent spot just slithering along the edge of the anomaly and
bounce right back to us. Even ones we place sort of get sucked in eventually, it's a real finangle having
to keep replacing them. But this time.. we really need them in position if we're to get any fighting
chance of advance warning. Good luck - and play safe."
As she departed she realized that was probably a really, really silly thing to say to a BoBCat...
=/\= Rickety Hybrid - Nearing the Typhon Expanse =/\=
Flying away from the station and singing along with a recording of 'On the Road Again,' Quide was
feeling pretty good. Sure the hybrid wasn't much fun to fly in, as any fancy maneuvers seemed to
threaten to tear the whole thing apart, but he'd been flying the Valkyries a lot lately, and a little variety
was always a good thing.
He was just about to kick into the chorus again when a voice cut in from behind him.
[I'm thirsty]
He turned around in his seat and found himself staring into the eyes of the mini-Quide. At first, he
thought there was a real Child's Play moment going on here and the BoB crew would find him with a
giant knife stuck into his head, but then he noticed the sticky note on on its chest.
Thought you could use a co-pilot, Reeds.
~Well that's uncharacteristically thoughtful of him~ Quide mused, before noticing there was a second
one on the back. He flipped the doll over to read it.
Plus this thing was creeping me out.
Quide tossed the doll into the seat next to him and gave a quiet chuckle. He was a little bothered by
the doll too, but not by how it looked. Ever time that mini-him said it was thirsty, Quide had been
thinking about grabbing a drink. This was no coincidence - it just so happened that Quide thought
about drinking a lot. But realizing that it wasn't any sort of chance, but that alcohol was such a ruling
force in his life gave Quide pause. Was what really all there was to him?
"I need a drink," he muttered to himself.
*****
Soon, the hybrid made its way to the Typhon Expanse, and Quide could see it long before he could
sense it on his sensors. That spoke more to the quality of the hybrid's sensors than anything about the
Expanse. He would also have to crash into any small ship before the sensors would catch them on long
range.
As for the Expanse, though, it practically screamed foreboding - and in several languages, even. It
looked sort of like a thick fog bank, but was roiling at the edges like a big cloth bag with something on
the inside struggling to get free. Was that normal? He didn't know a lot about this anomaly but what
he read from skimming the reports on it, and when he had 'skimmed them' he basically had read the
first line and discarded it, figuring he'd figure it out for himself soon enough.
"Well, y'know what they say about 'indsight," Quide said to the other him in the copilots seat.
Flying in slow - well, slow for him - Quide kept a careful watch on the Expanse as it loomed larger
through his canopy. Knowing nothing about this thing in front of him, he still couldn't help but feel that
something big was happening in there. It just as easily could have been his imagination, though,
reacting to the news Mulder had given him about the recent developments in the area.
"It's just a big cloud," Quide sighed, almost disappointed. "Nothing exciting 'ere."
From the corner of his eye, further down the Expanse he saw a flash, and turned to see what it was,
but it was gone. Of course, sensors hadn't gotten any readings. Was it his imagination, or faulty
equipment? He wondered how he was cracking under the pressure if he felt so eager for their to be
some sort of danger. It didn't make any sense.
Then there was another one, on the other side, and much closer, but he saw it this time. There was
some sort of energy discharge - light a big lightning bolt - and very powerful too. He put up his shields
and reluctantly increased power to the inertial dampeners, as he didn't want to be flung all over the
cockpit if things got bumpy. There was another discharge, further off, and another. Then one shot out
straight for him - that one the sensors picked up. He managed to roll away with only slight singeing of
the shields.
"Now, is the storm getting worse just now, or did I just come 'ere during a peak?" Quide asked his doll,
not caring he looked like a crazy person... to his doll. "Either way, at least it's interesting now.
The hybrid was close enough to launch the sensors in theory. Mulder had said anything near the
Expanse would be acceptable. But since when did Quide only do acceptable work while flying? He
punched the throttle and the ship lurched forward. He was finally getting close enough to the Expanse
for his sensors to give some forewarning of nearby ion discharges before they built up enough to shoot
out. He didn't fully rely on the iffy readings, but supplemented them with his own visual observations
and managed to avoid the dangerous blasts as they increased in frequency and intensity.
"Just one o those things. That's all it would take." Quide was having a blast. "Computer, play Electric
Slide."
Dancing between bolts, it became increasingly easy to read where the blasts were coming from, but
more difficult to get out of the way quick enough. Soon, as thrill-seeking as Quide was, he didn't
exactly have a death wish, and three or four close calls later, he jettisoned the sensors and high tailed
it away from the Expanse. Unfortunately, since he was using both the sensors and his eyes to predict
and dodge the discharges, he had to make his escape in full reverse. It was novel to say the least.
"Go with God, brave travelers," he called out to the sensors as he sped away.
[I'm thirsty] The doll piped up.
"Y'not kidding," Quide agreed.
=/\= SB BoB - Level 77 0530 hours =/\=
Drying her hair off the old fashioned way with a towel, Mulder grabbed the remains of her morning tea
and took a cautious sip. Cold. Damn, have to make more.
Draping the towel over the back of a chair, she replicated a meal for Sherlock, adding some fresh
scraps left over from last night's dinner, before wandering back into the bedroom to put on her
uniform and fix her damp but styleable hair into it's usual neat bun.
It was all so... domestic. And she loved it.
She might have loved it even more if she'd known that this was the last quiet ten minutes of pure
tranquillity she was going to have for many a long week. And that the countdown had just that minute
started...
Ten minutes later, fresh much of tea in hand, she wandered through the lounge and into her small
study, switching on her commconsole to check the morning's updates. Cade had already departed for
the marine deck half an hour ago, and she suspected it might be something to do with the fact that the
Pendragon was due in that morning. She'd held him extra tightly for a few moments before he left,
knowing the significance of the docking.
Now she was reading her messages and the night-shift reports as she drank her tea and nibbled on a
piece of toast. She'd still get her proper morning breakfast sarnie from Pigs when she strolled to her
work office.
Reading through Lieutenant Quide's hasty report from the night before, she noted that the sensor
enhancer equipment had indeed been dropped off in the Expanse the night before and she nodded in
silent approval. If this storm was brewing then that might give them *some* warning, at least.
Finishing skimming the rest of the night's reports - no emergencies or mad panics - she closed the
commconsole and stood up, the only dilemma on her mind being whether to have another cup of tea
and a few Jaffa cakes before hauling her rear into work.
Behind her, there was a small crackle of static, and she turned around to see the commconsole had reactivated itself.
What now?" she muttered. "Crewman Lupha? Is there a problem?" Silence except for the static.
"Report? Command Centre, are you trying to reach me?"
The screen seemed to flare momentarily, as if in response to her voice, and then a grainy image in
shades of light and shade instead of colour, appeared.
Mulder felt both a knot of apprehension and a small prickle of relief as she recognised the outline of
the figure. The conical breathing unit, the full-face mask - the Breen. This was what the foretellings had
been leading up to.
"Captain Mulder. We meet again," the electronic voice sounded tinny and remote.
"You have the advantage of me. Look, don't take this the wrong way but one guy in a refrigerated
breathing unit looks very much like another guy in a refrigerated breathing unit."
"We met two years ago, your starship Enforcer brought us to your station along with Colonel Malone
and Commander Carter. We were the ones responsible for their release and escape..I am Mhet Vor."
"Okay," Mulder nodded cautiously. So they were saying they were the Breen Dissidents. "Go on."
"I believe that we have mutual contacts who will have indicated that we might make contact."
They meant the Patriots, of course. Mulder knew with absolute certainty that was what her father had
been prophesising. There really was no escape from the Patriot's web... She grimaced, "Indeed. So our
'friends' have helped you to contact me? Why me?"
"You are the only military officer we can trust. We have information that we must convey, information
that if not acted upon will lead to a terrible danger to your sector. But if we allow it to reach Starfleet
in general, then we ourselves will be exposed, and they - the ones responsible - will not only take our
lives but simply move their operations to another base. Our mutual friends have assured me that you
will act in the interests of the sector, the interests of us, and the interests of your station."
"They didn't mention 'the interests of Starfleet'?" Mulder was more amused than anything else. "My,
my. The Patriots do know me all too well. But I'm not the *only* military officer in this sector. You have
one much closer to our mutual friends.."
"We understand that is not an option due to recent circumstances," came the oblique reply.
So they knew about Cade's injury and about him being relieved of duty. But it gave her an insight into
the new Nomads CO. Whoever he was, he wasn't a Patriot or he'd have been entrusted with the
information himself. That momentarily lifted her spirits. "Alright. I'll bite. What's going down?"
"Captain, this channel is secure from our own internal eavesdroppers to the best of our knowledge. As
it is to your Starfleet people. Our mutual friends arranged an encryption channel that cannot be
duplicated, but even so, what we have to say is not something to be voiced here and now."
Mulder bit off a groan of frustration. Why did people always *do* that? "So, when and where?"
"I have sent co-ordinates to your screen, of a rendezvous. It is our base, a small planet on the outskirts
of Breen space. We need to meet with you, show you what is happening, and leave it to you to take
action. You should come armed, Captain, and you should bring troops."
"Eh? How many?"
"Enough to do the job. Experts, trained combat soldiers. We have to - " he broke off, "We will explain.
You will have to trust us, Captain. We shall be at these co-ordinates for the next seven days, after
which time we will assume that you are unable to help, and move on. We will not be able to contact
you again. We only escaped with our lives after last time due to certain assistances from.."
"Yeah. I know. our mutual friends," Mulder sighed.
"If we are not at the base it means that our situation has been compromised or we are dead. Possibly
both. Do not attempt to land, but get away as quickly as possible."
"Or else we might be walking into a trap ourselves," Mulder frowned.
"Believe me, Captain. It is a chance worth taking, once you know what is at stake you will agree."
Mulder had no idea how to read Breen body language, but she felt an uneasy certainty that he - if it
was a 'he', even - that he was telling the truth. "Look, I don't even know if I can come in person," she
said quickly. If it had been Cade still in charge then she could have worked it - but then again, if Cade
had been in charge it would have been him going and not her anyway. So it was a moot point. And she
couldn't take a troop of Nomads out now they had a new commander on the way. So she might have
to delegate. She hated delegating. At least, hated delegating the juicy stuff, but there was probably no
other option. "But if not me, I will only send my own people, people from this station, people the
Colonel will trust."
At the mention of Vaughan, the Breen nodded, "We can ask for no more. You must understand,
Captain, that although we prefer to live an isolated life, our people could benefit so much more from
contacts and alliances. Instead, the Council seems ever more hard-line, as if some are still living in the
days of the Dominion War. We who believe there should be another way wish to stop this without
bringing war to our people as a whole."
"Yeah, I get you," Mulder shrugged. "Not that there's anything *wrong* with being a Xenophobic race.
Personally, my own people thrive on it. But then we really *do* keep our noses out and don't go
stampeding into other people's wars.." she gave them a steely look, which she knew was unjustified for
the present company. "And although we do have a common interest in trashing SFHQ, at least *we*
made sure than only the bad guys got killed. I think your people are only recluses when it suits them."
"You might be right, Captain."
Mulder wondered what they looked like, what their motives were, and what was in it for them. Was
there ever anything really altruistic about a group? But so far, she saw no reason to doubt them, and
she was as cynical as the next person. If the next person was Mister Cynic McCyncical, winner of last
years Mister Cynical Competition. "I will put this meeting into motion."
"Do not worry, captain, if we are compromised we will not let your people walk into a trap. Be
assured."
"Actually, I'm not," she said dryly. "But I'm going to get people over there anyway."
"Good.." there was a flash and renewed burst of static, "This channel cannot hold for much longer," he
said quickly. "I leave the matter in your hands Cap - "
The screen cut out, and sat blackly still.
"Ohhhh boy," she sighed. She would lay odds that the call didn't come through main Ops, so she didn't
even bother trying to ask them about it. She checked her message box and there was an unknown
transmission in there, as promised, with nothing in the message body but a set of co-ordinates.
She brought them up on screen, and did a quick calculation. Fortunately it was right this side of Breen
space, so a fast warp-capable transport could get there in a three to four days. And she had seven
days, apparently. So she was going to have to start laying plans right away. With a pang of regret, she
knew she couldn't be a part of this particular away team, not even on the pretext of being a pilot.
She hoped Tom Quide had a few days free in his social diary. Because if he didn't before, he jolly well
did now.
That weighing on her mind, she completed the rest of her morning routine quickly, delivered Sherlock
to the Arboretum under Snookums care, and made her way to the Command Centre.
She could not have known just what else awaited her that day, or the chaos the station would be
plunged into. But they do say that trouble never travels solo.
=/\= Flight Deck, level 2 =/\=
Mulder peered into the flight deck, and in the far corner she saw a large multi-coloured contraption
that looked like.. it couldn't be.. a lava lamp. "Class," she murmured, as she walked over.
She could see Quide sitting on the couch in the corner, and coughed slightly to attract his attention.
Sitting on the couch and enjoying a drink, Quide was dead to the world until a sudden sound caught his
ear. Following the cough, he noticed that the captain had made her way into the BoBCat sanctuary and
jumped up to stand in some semblance of attention - or as close as one can while holding a bottle of
beer. "Captain! I wasn't expecting ya."
"As you were, Lieutenant," she said quietly as she sat down carefully on the opposite couch. But not
before checking, as she knew exactly what BoB cast-offs were like. But this one didn't attempt to jab
her or spring her up to the ceiling, so all was well.
He sat back down and set down the bottle. 'As you were' was fine and good, but Quide got the feeling
this wasn't a social call, and if orders were involved, he might need to be something resembling sober.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
There was a moment before Mulder began, then she spoke quite unlike her usual insouciant manner.
"I have a task for you. A mission, actually. And the thing is, I can't actually tell you much about it. I'm
not saying it's covert ops or anything like that, but it's definitely got to be done under the radar. What
we say now goes no further than you, me and the lava lamp until I say differently, understood?"
Quide leaned forward, intent on every word being uttered. His whole demeanour changed, his joviality
giving way to seriousness. Missions were one thing, but this was downright irregular, and it didn't seem
like the time for jokes. "I understand, captain. What is it y'want me to do?"
"It's dangerous," she said simply. "Or at least, it could be. I need you to fly a team of marines into
potentially hostile territory, and drop them off at a rendezvous point. Because of the location - which I
won't tell you just yet - it won't be advisable to stay in the area. But that will have to be played by ear
at the time. To be blunt, this could be a complete waste of time, it could be a trap, or it could be a
valuable piece if information gathering - or something else altogether. There's no way of telling just
yet. All I do know is that my sources are, from experience, genuine. And if so, there could be a whole
heap of trouble brewing somewhere."
"Well, far be it for me to ask y'to justify a mission," Quide said dismissively. "Y'want me to fly
somewhere, I'll fly. But y'not going to tell me where... do y'know where I'm going yet?"
"I do have co-ordinates but I'm not going to give them to you until just before departure. Trust me,
Lieutenant, in this particular game the less you know, the better. Damn. I'm sounding like a blasted
Secret Squirrel," she snapped. "I hate stuff like this. But it seems to follow me around, no matter how
hard I try to outrun it."
Quide impressed himself with his restraint and avoided making any number of jokes about cartoon
rodents in trench coats and public flashing. Instead, he stuck to practical matters. "Assuming it's any
distance away, 'oo is going to run things around 'ere with O'Rourke still out o sorts?"
"The situation here - well, we have to hope that's temporary. And your Crewman Reeds can organize
the docking schedules, I'm sure he's fit enough to sit at a console. And if he isn't, he'll be sitting at a
console anyway. You're flying solo on this one."
"I'm sure 'ee'll be thrilled to get back to work," he said, nearly convincingly enough to fool himself.
"Can I at least know what I'll be flying? I don't know 'ow many marines I can shove into a 'ybrid."
"I think you'll have to take the Knight-Mare.." Mulder gave a wry smile. "It's served as troop transport
before, and it's sturdy enough, and neutral enough, to get the job done. You *were* wishing you could
fly her again only the other day, weren't you? What's that old saying... be careful what you wish for?"
"Well I'm not regretting that wish yet," Quide grinned. "But tell me one thing, if y'would, for my ego's
sake. Are the Guys in Green being kept in the dark until the last second too?"
"I'm going to need to talk to the new marine commander when he arrives," Mulder shrugged, "And
liaise with the Colonel too. When the marines go out, they'll know where they're going but for
operational purposes I can't let them know too much too soon. As far as the station is concerned, it'll
just be you flying the marines out on a Zero-G training exercise or somesuch. They're gone out on
space exercises before so it's not like it's going to raise any queries at all."
"All right then, captain. I'll be ready to go whenever y'give the word."
"It'll be within the next two to three days, that much I *can* tell you. After that, our window of
opportunity will be lost. I'll give you a fuller briefing once everything else is in place."
"Oh, one more thing, if y'don't mind. Totally unrelated to the 'ush 'ush business. 'Ow are those sensors
by the Expanse working out? 'As there been anything interesting coming across?"
"They seem to be working perfectly," she gave a small smile. "You did well. I hope that we'll have
*some* advance warning now if it all goes pear-shaped." She stood up. "I'd better get back. There's a
whole heap of things to do and never enough hours in the day, and all that jazz. Not to mention
keeping an eye on the sensors and hoping that they give us good news.."
"Right then." He gave a cheery grin. "Just let me know if y'need them closer. I wouldn't mind another
go at that Expanse."
"Actually, you can take the Knightmare out for a few trial runs if you like," she knew he would be
pleased at that. "I've taken the liberty of telling Ops that you have full clearance to give her a few test
runs to make sure she's running well, after all that MU business. So familiarise yourself with everything
she can do, and be ready." She left quickly, her mind turning over the next step in this unwanted new
situation she had no choice but to see through now.
=/\=Deck 1, Bridge, USS Wellington=/\=
Captain Urik bluntly asked his crew. For the last half an hour the crew had been busy trying to work out
the mystery of the missing satellite. “Well...? What do we have?”
R'So-R'Not was the first to answer in his metallic android voice. “Sir, this has not been the first stolen
communications array in recent months, Starfleet records indicate that four similar thefts have
occurred nearby. This area of space is only monitored for the strange phenomena as well as an early
warning against potential threats.”
This time the bridge science officer Lammar gave her two pennies. “It’s hardly a Romulan threat,”
Trying to take the blame immediately off her species. “Sensor readings concur that the residual
emissions do not correlate to a Romulan pattern.”
Ensign Reid followed up with her information, “Sir the readings that we have been getting are not
reminiscent of any ships with warp capability outside of the federation, in fact the readings seem to
emulate the impulse readings, faint as they are, considering all factors and keeping in understanding of
the context of all the information...”
“Get it out Ensign Reid, please; time could be of the essence.” The captain attempted to control his
frustration.
“The impulse readings are Federation, sir” She followed up quickly.
Confused Urik scratched his nose thinking out loud. “So someone from the base has been stealing the
satellites?”
His XO Commander Appleby figured he had better clarify the junior's comment. “If someone was
stealing the satellites then one would presume that they would head back to somewhere close to base
under our noses, instead it appears to have been dragged out further into space with one interesting
note.”
“Really, number one, what do you gather it is?” Urik tried his best sarcastic Picard voice.
“The readings indicate that whoever took the arrays did so by using technology exactly the same as our
arrays or used the arrays own impulse propulsion system.”
“You mean whoever took it was not a federation vessel but a federation satellite. Am I supposed to be
getting ridiculous images of space computers in cowboy hats and slingshot pistols?” Urik retorted. He
figured that the good Doctor Cox would laud it up right now if he was here.
=/\=Medical Section, Deck 17, USS Wellington=/\=
In the medical center the Doctor was having his own problems involving a rather irritating professor
mushroom giving lectures on the ethics of treating each and every patient with care and tact in order
not to scare them.
The minion interns followed him as they did their rounds. A very fat man with a serious case of heart
failure was back in the medical bay and he was the next patient to be examined by the interns. Cox
played his favorite game called 'knock the interns down'. “Now this rather large gentleman has been
back in hospital four times in the last six months. This is all for weight related problems. Can anyone
tell me the treatment for his condition?”
A rather too intelligent intern spoke up “Give him beta-blockers to thin the blood, diet pills to trim the
fat and give him a dose of colic to poo.”
The doctor turned to him, put on his most charming smile and said “Now can anyone tell me the
correct answer?” and watched in bemusement as the intern medics thought it through. The answer
was clever but Cox had a better idea.
“Good god Interns! This man is obviously in need of something more then an easy fix for this; The man
eats himself to death with the amount of fat that goes down that greasy gob of his...”
The patient became irritated with being talked down and replied with “Oi!”
“... no! No quick fixes, you obviously think that next burger you eat won't kill you, but put it together
with the fries and the vodka. Lets list the diseases you are going to die from... first up liver disease from
the vodka, second, kidney failure from a lack of water, thirdly a heart attack from the fat that clogs so
many of your arteries that I could mold a giant you from the fat I could scoop out of you, then give it to
a starving civilization which would kill them off from the very same disease. You just won the trifector
in the disease department and all you had to do was choke down a green salad and go for a run once in
a while.”
The patient sat there stunned as the chief doctor spun back onto his interns who were now starting to
understand. “Let this be a lesson to the rest of you, patients are dumb, scared and need you to care
enough to know the difference between when they need their hand held and when they need you to
kick their asses. If you want to get through to them you better be speaking from your heart else your a
walking liability in my hospital. No scuttle back to work minions lest I have you do the bedpans.”
Urik walked in from the doors of the medical institute. “So doctor, I see you’re tormenting the interns
still. How do you stop the high blood pressure usually associated with that?”
“Ha, that’s the cure.” The doctor laughed. “So assuming that you normally wouldn’t leave the
command deck unless you wanted a favour what can I do to get rid of said commanding officer?”
“We have a situation involving a missing satellite, I wanted to make sure that if we do run into any
trouble that our medical students are ready for it. I’d like to take them into weapons handling and
such, with your permission, of course.” Urik was taking the diplomatic route with Doctor Cox as he had
been known to be quite hostile so a softly softly approach would hopefully, in the captains eyes, win
him over.
“The thought of some of these officers and doctors running around with weapons might give them an
ego.” Cox weighed up the consequences.
“How about your giant ego that got you kicked out of some of the most reputable hospitals in the
galaxy, The Vulcan Commission of Medicinal Development, that gig over at the Federation Biological
Institute or how about getting kicked off the Admiral’s Fleet ship for gross insubordination?” Urik
replied.
“But I’m an unappreciated brilliant god of a doctor with a flair for the unorthodox. Plus do you really
want a second giant ego in this part of the ship?” Cox said with no modesty.
Thinking it over the captain allowed this train of thought to go through his head, a second giant ego?
He pondered. “Like you would allow that to happen, Doctor, so I take it I can have the medics given
basics in weapons training in the holographic deck?”
“I spent ages breaking their spirit, if I get a single intern with a shred of confidence back I’m holding
you responsible and making you my whipping boy.” Cox said “I got to get back to my patients before
one of these woefully undertrained pectrums kills anybody.”
“Right, we are starting training in the morning in shifts. If you want to select the teams, I’ll make sure
that Appleby keeps their spirit broken.” Urik grinned. He walked out the door leaving Cox to another
raving match with one of his interns who had managed to overdose a patient on pain killers.
The comm. badge on his chest toned followed by the voice of the XO. “Captain, your presence would
be good right about now. Got a message coming in but I think its best if you come onto the bridge and
take it yourself.”
“Understood Appleby, Urik out.” Captain Urik tapped the badge and entered the nearby turbo lift.
“Bridge.” The doors closed behind him.
=/\= Near the Promenade, Starbase BoB=/\=
Soldering two wires together Snell had inadvertently left his wallet on the ground. When one of the
BOB's civilian kids wandered over to see what the Gamma Shift squad were up to. He grabbed the
wallet without being noticed and began to pawn his way through it. Eventually he came across a sliver
packet with ripples on the end and something soft and squidgy inside.
“Oi kid, What you doin’ with that?” Crewman Matthews alerted the team, What you doin’ with the
rubbers?”
Snell immediately chased after the kid “Give that back!”
Unfortunately the child ran off, dropping the wallet in fear and clutching the condom in his hand.
Unable to keep up Snell stopped and walked back, slowly getting his breath back.
When he returned the entire compliment of six men were laughing so hard that the NCO had to fall on
the ground and couldn’t get back up.
“So… he’s learnt about the birds and the bees already hey?” one of the crewman gasped in laughter
causing his fellow crewmembers to break out in a fresh burst of hysterical laughter.
“Birds and the Bee’s?” The NCO joined in much to the embarrassment to his officer. “I doubt he’d be
old enough to even know about that. How’s his dad going to react when he finds that? Now son, you
see there are the birds and the bee’s and in the spring they find girly birds and girly bee’s.” using a
deeper voice while laughing.
“Yeah and they put sticks in holes which means that little birdies and bee’s are born.”
“Except the Lieutenant here couldn’t find a hole for either the birds or the bee’s after the last
Christmas party, hey?”
Snell covered his face as it turned red and reflected that sex was the cause of annoying Starfleet
crewmen, NCO’s and kids. He further mentally noted that next Christmas he would have to make sure
that his web camera would be disconnected.
=^=- BoB - Infirmary =^=
"Black out, great" Mike was frustrated at this point. "We're going back to painful instead of overwhelm
right" talking in the general direction of the doctor.
"I love those type of days" François answered right after a big bang could be heard "Who put the
freaking table there?"
"You did sir" answered the nurse.
"Great, Ok people, will have to work fast, Vivianne go to Le lost French, we need candles."
"Yes sir" then a large "Shit" was heard as she ran into the walk instead of the doors.
"Slowly nurse..slowly..."
***********A few hours later*******
The main infirmary was lighted with candles, different colors some where even mark by love signs
another was even cal the sex candle as it did a few uncommon sounds.
"Put you in the mood does in it?" ask mike looking at Vivianne.
"With you beside me, kind of ruin the mood" she answered seriously.
"Come on , give me some love"
"If vomiting into your mouth count as love, be my guess"
"Alright you too, that's enough get to work" answered the doctor. He had two surgery plan for the
afternoon and some patients were coming in with minor bruises and bumps. He had to reopen the
quarter or secondary room to make place to an over fill infirmary.
"Sir , we can have that many people in here. We also have to send a team to the infirmary."
"I'll go, stay here and take care of the others , also reschedule the two surgery for tomorrow." he took
a medic pack "Mike your in charge."
"Vivianne your with me"
As they walk in the dark trying to guide people to the infirmary and at the same time get to the
engineering section.
"So what's up with mike?" he ask.
"No, he's not my type."
"and what is your type?"
"Not him, I didn't quite know yet.."
"Hope it's not leather" he smile making reference to her mirror image that was dress in leather and
was a nude dancer.
"Might try it to see" she started to laugh as her head hit a bulkhead.
"Think were near engineering" he laugh hitting himself against another.
The went silent for a moment until they saw some light ahead...
=/\= USS Caledonia - Bridge =/\=
Seated around the helm console, Jinti finished bringing her department of two up to speed about the
mission facing them.
Richards looked amused, Jadi looked intrigued. Both of them had listened in silence until she finished.
"So these guys just shut themselves away from the rest of the universe in a *bubble*?" Richards
scratched his head. "Sounds a bit freaky to me."
"I dunno," Jadi shrugged. "There's always been sects and religious orders who do that sort of thing on
all worlds, ever since time began."
"But.. no chicks," Richards looked scandalised. "No female company. Ever. There's got to be something
wrong there."
"Mebbe they wuz disappointed in lurve," Jinti theorised. "Like, mebbe all the guys whut go there got
jilted or summat. Might explain it."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Chief. When someone gets jilted they just get over it and start all over again,"
Richards gave her a sly look. "Might take a while, but they get back on track sooner or later."
Jinti pretended just to take the comment on it's face value. "S'pose so. But not all guys act well ta
rejection. Some jist get all gloomy an' reckon it's the end of the world, so they run an' hide."
"But.. we don't know that's why they're there," Jadi put in. "Unless you know something we don't,
chief?"
"Nah, there ain't nuthin' bin said 'bout that," Jinti shrugged. "I didn't even think on it. Not 'till Richards
here started goin' on about no chicks."
Richards just laughed, "Can't help it. It's what any normal red-blooded maile would think. Isolation,
solitude, yeah that's all well and good, for a bit. But for ever and ever? Ohhh boy, no thanks. I'd go
nuts. Maybe that's why things are going wrong, because they've all gone nuts."
"Don't reckon so, bud," Jinti waved the Padd of notes in front of them. "It sez they'z all bin checked fer
mental-looney-stuff. There's loads wanna go, an' so they really do all that psychy-stuff on them ta
make sure they *ain't* gonna go nuts. Ya gonna be real-deal sane ta get it."
Richards muttered something about a life without women being the most insane thing he'd ever heard
of.
"I suppose they can leave at any time they like, so they *could* start up a normal life again," Jadi was
reading through the notes again. "I don't see why any of them would get so het up that they'd
sabotage the place. No, I reckon it's an outside job."
"Motive?" Richards demanded of no-one in particular. "I mean, why? It's not like they're doing anyone
any harm. From what the briefing says, they keep themselves to themselves, they don't pester anyone,
and they aren't in anyone's way. And their planet is no use to anyone except them, so.. why would
anyone want to freak them out? It doesn't make any sense."
"Yup, thass the mystery of it," Jinti said, leaning back in her seat and stretching her rams behind her
head. "Thass why we gotta go an' see if there *is* anyone hidin' out on the island anywhere." Whilst
she was talking, Jinti had pulled up schematics of the island peninsula and was studying them on the
screen. "So we're both going out on fly-overs. What's your choice, 'Titty or 'Nickers?"
"I'm not even going to go there.." came the dry rejoinder. "Your call, Chief."
"Eh, we'll toss a coin. They're both in pretty good nick. Pity about the spikes though. Them spikes
mighta come in useful," Jinti lamented.
"Happy days," Richards chuckled. "The MU seems years away now, don't it? Looking back, it was quite
exciting. Terrifying, but exciting. I got to fly the Caly more times than usual. Mainly because you were
off flying Valks and suchlike," his voice was deceptively innocent.
"Yeah, you did a lot of that," Jadi murmured.
"Now, about the routes we'll be flying," Jinti's voice raised a few octaves.
"You going to tell, Chief?" Richards smirked.
"None o'yer business," Jinti muttered.
"Ohhh come *on* Chief," Jadi giggled. "We all know. We all saw the way you two looked at each
other."
Jinti looked between them both. "A lady don't tell."
"I knew it," Richards punched the air triumphantly. "I said there was something going on."
"Thass private," Jinti protested. "Now stop yer messin' about an' help me sort out these routes."
"I think it's cute," Jadi said smugly.
"You'll be on the next coffee run then," Jinti pointed to the door. "Get yer ass movin', Crewman. Coffee
all round."
Richards made to open his mouth but Jinti cut him off, "You want to be on the snack run? No? Then
hush yer noise."
Jadi got up to get the coffees, still smirking, as Richards gave a dry laugh. "Okay Chief. You win. For
now."
Jinti just slapped him upside the head, "Now plan me a route out, mister."
Whistling happily, he started the task, as Jadi's giggle was heard coming from the turbolift.
=/\= SB BoB - Marine Deck =/\=
[Previously] ....As the new Nomads marched smartly into the main Marine Deck, the Yellow Alert
sounded, cutting through the air with piercing clarity.
Then a female voice spoke over the station-wide comm, ^^ "All hands, this is the Captain. We've gone
to yellow alert because there's a massive electrical storm about to hit from the Typhon Expanse, and
we're directly in it's path. This station has withstood a lot worse, I'm sure, but we need to prepare as
the readings are off the scale and it's going to get pretty rough."^^
[and now, the continuation..]
John-Boy looked around at the yellow streaming warning lights. "Oh boy..."
"Welcome home," Jack said. "Welcome home."
"Home, and in the eye of a bleedin' storm," James scoffed. "Great," he sighed. "Could have least hung
out some bunting."
"Any chance this is just their way of welcoming new arrivals?" Akira muttered, made uncertain by the
coincidence of their arrival and the current emergency.
But, of course, there was no chance of that. This was BoB, and as orders were rapped out and the new
arrivals given a mini-induction, it was clear that things just *happened* at BoB, whether you were
ready for them or not.
With the itinerant Nomads busy securing various weaponry, the newcomers stayed on deck, not
getting in anyone's way. They weren't going to be much use until they knew where everything actually
*was* to make secure.
So, they entertained themselves as best they could. John-Boy was taking careful stock of his
surroundings, making a slow perimeter walk, and as such didn't see Fidoe until he nearly cannoned
into him.
At his feet was a roll of sharp, pointy implements that wouldn't have looked out of place in a dentist's
surgery. In his palm, Woof was fiddling with a smooth panel. The back of which was exposed, revealing
a circuit board and wiring. He turned the panel over, the pixalated liquid crystal display glinted. Woof
was concentrating hard, his jowls munching hard on gum.
Nearly stepping on the crud on the ground, John-Boy muttered a curse. "You trying to get your ass
kicked first day out? Cluttering up the deck - what you playing at?"
"Believe it not, I got my uses," replied Woof as he positioned two pieces of plastic together. He
polished the front of the unit. "This is an interesting piece of kit."
John-Boy gave a sardonic smirk. "If you like playing mini-scrapheap challenge. What are you doing? Reinventing the cellphone?"
"May help with your Dharma-Mulder Hypothesis," he grinned. "If you're brave enough." Woof arched a
brow as he pulled from his pocket a small disc. It had a curved aperture lense, betraying it as a closed
circuit camera. "Here, hold that," he held out his palm towards Sim. "Would you say you were warm or
cold blooded, Simm?"
For a brief second, Simm's eys clouded and he looked sharply away. "Depends," he said shortly. His
hand strayed automatically to the pocket with his watch and he could feel the beat of his own heart
underneath. Cold or hot blooded? Depended on who was dying. He held the scrap of something lightly,
barely noticing it.
Woof fiddled with the rectangle in his hand, tapping at it with a stylus. "Hold it up, towards your face,
say cheese."
Giving him a contemptuous look, John-Boy lifted it up then at the last minute stuck it sideways so it
waved directly in front of Ratty's face, who had chosen that minute to walk behind them. "Enjoy."
"What a picture, thought not that way inclined." grinned woof. He turned the display around and held
it up like a credit card. A yellow and orange image made up of shaded blotches filled the pixalated
squares. "Perfectly normal, red blooded male."
"Who'd have thunk it?" John-Boy muttered. "Like taking pics of the guys, do ya?"
"Don't be stoo-pid. Remote bio thermal imaging. Short wave transmission," Woof rattled of his comms
tech geek speak. "Can store information, data charge it and relay in real time."
"Hey, I got one of those. It's called a holo-camera," John-Boy intoned dryly.
"Huh, he squeaks.Catch two of the girls with it," woof told the fellow marine. "That one, and her
mate." he nodded towards two of the few female marines that were part of their select troupe.
"Pics of the girls as well as the guys. I gather you're the... versatile type," John-Boy looked around,
wondering why he'd got caught up with the guy who wouldn't stop talking - again.
"Got one," Woof's grin was getting stupider. "And the next...." he waited as the two images flickered
across the screen.
"The suspense is killing me. Not." John-Boy sighed. "But if you're taking chick-pics, you'd better share.
The guy-pics you can keep for your own personal amusement." He realised that Fidoe was still rattling
on..
"And if we tessalate, and overlap,ooh, now that's close..."He jerked the screen back at Simm. "Call it.
One inch or two?"asked Woof. "I may get my head kicked in."
John-Boy looked at the imaging of gentle undulations and shook his head, unimpressed. "Mate, if you
got to do all that to judge the size then you clearly don't get out enough. Me, I don't need that. I can
tell just by looking. "
Woof rolled his eyes. This chap was like walking through treacle. "Oh, yeah, pray tell, Genius."
"It's a skill," John-Boy said smugly. "I can tell down to the cup size. Easy when you know how. 'Course,
practice makes perfect. And I like to practice all I can.."
Woof shook his head, given the stick he was already getting. He wasn't about to mention man-boobs.
"All right, then Smart Alec. All that practice you do. That's someone's sister. Someone's mother, wife,
or daughter. Do what you want, but don't make yourself a posterboy for perversion. It may come back
and bite you," Woof sounded liked a coarse gravel being stomped on by the cavalry."Unless," his tone
dipped. "You, of course, like that sorta thing."
John-Boy had zoned out by then. He'd remembered too late that if you talked to Fidoe, then Fidoe
talked back. And talked. And talked. And talked. He made it a little exercise to filter out anything
irrelevant and absorb anything useful that was said. So far, he was hearing nothing. Realising the
momentary lull in white noise had stopped he murmured, "Whatever..."
"I have a kid sister," Woof started, "and the last idiot who tried to ping her bra strap. Once I'd had a
word in his shell like, he could still sing soprano after they operated."
John-Boy's attention was riveted, but not on Fidoe. In the hustle of the other Nomads going about
their business, he thought he saw a familiar figure. No.. couldn't be.. could it? His eyes strained, but
everyone was milling around so much it was hard to keep track. If he was right, this was going to be
more interesting than he thought...
Again the white noise had stopped, and he recalled the subject matter. Girls. "Yeah, you got your bet
placed?" he offered at random. Even if it wasn't the correct rejoinder, no doubt Fidoe would work it
anyway.
"I did place a bet,yes," nodded Woof. "What can I say, I'm fickle. But aint we all. just saying,keep your
eyes in your head, not on stalks."
"Uhh-huhh," John-Boy murmured absently as he took a few steps away and broke the verbal link.
What *was* that guy rattling on about? Didn't matter. His eyes were still scanning the organised press
of marines and he caught glimpse of a head, a profile. His dark eyes became more hooded as a slow
smirk spread across his face. If that *was* who he thought it was, then this posting had more
possibilities than he'd ever thought possible. He whistled tunelessly through his teeth, his fingers
tapping out a sharp drumming staccato across his folded arms.
But before he could angle himself for further investigation, the storm alert came, and everyone braced
themselves for the ride...
...twenty minutes later, after a buffeting and jolting that made their teeth rattle, there was a universal
groan as the lights went out.
"If we were in Louisiana, I'd say we were hit by lightning," Jack drawled. "Y'all better not step on my
toes."
"Marines, man flashlights or torches," Jack suggested. "Lieutenant are you there, Sir?"
Then the same female voice as before came over the intercom, "Attention all hands. Dark, isn't it? The
bad news is, we're going to be in a lights-out situation for at least the next forty-eight hours. The good
news is, everything else is working, so life goes on. Listen up, as we need to get ourselves
organised......"Nomads, we could use your help with search and rescue, for those of you familiar with
the layout, especially the lower decks. And help set up emergency lights in critical areas."
As the officers barked orders, John-Boy let out a long breath, unseen in the darkness. Oh yeah. Ain't we
got fun.
=/\= SB BoB Out and 'Bout =/\=
She was stalking the corridors. It was dark and gloomy, as though the world had been extinguished of
all happiness and joy.
"Oi, that you, counsellor?"
Arihana turned and poked something.
"Rumour has it there's a rockstar in your room?" Avril chuckled quietly.
"Rumour would be wrong, the truth would be about right." tutted the counsellor. "He's being secured,
sinced you asked."
"What with, silk scarves?" Avril ducked before she got smacked sideways. "Listen there's a kid down
the road, he's scared stiff with the dark. But he's immobile."
Arihana followed, her eyes adjusting. "Why?" she asked, shoulders flowed either side of her as she
walked.
"He was sprinting, kid tripped and smashed his leg," the yeoman told her.
"Right," nodded Dharma, "get me a sheet, a couple of broomsticks, and another stick or something."
Arihana had done this before and it would show.
***
Arihana: aged 4
Location: Dharmas' backyard. Birmingham, Uk, Earth.
Sujal Dharma landed with a thud and a wail. He had been half way up a tree, trying to scrump apples.
From the comfort of her shady spot on the verandah, Arihana had been jolted from her dilly-dallying as
Malibu Barbie married LA Ken and then divorced him to obtain half of everything. The child dropped
the two toys and her feet flip flopped across the lawn towards first cousin Sujal. Her mothers, sisters
son. He was eight, and much bigger than her.
Sujal wailed and he groaned.
"Sooj, you 'kay?" asked his much younger cousin. She cocked her head and poked him. "Oh, no, Sooj
got hai?
Hai. Punjabi as taught by her mother. Sujal was hurt.
"Yes," nodded the boy. "Sujal got hai. Ari got get help."
"'elp?" Arihana looked confused. "Sook get up?" She bent to look at him, her chubby hands on her
hips. "go walkies?"
"Er no," Sujal truculated, he was older, a boy and she was a little girl who annoyed him with her older
than her years babbling. "Do *summat*!" he squealed it.
The other child smiled. "I 'elp, but you be nice, no pull plait" she waggled her finger to barter.
"All right, yep, whatever," nodded Sujal.
Branches, arihana went over to a dwark sapling, and pulled at it. Pulled at the firm but fresh branches.
"Tree? You'll fix me with a tree?" groaned sujal, now in agony.
"Sooj. Be shut up," Arihana started to unplait her hair, taking the branches she had pulled and creating
a splint. Her hair was curly.
"This aint funny," yelled her cousin.
"Didn't sez it was," concentrated Arihana tying the split around the leg. "Gits, up, slowly.
MOMMMMMEEEEEEEE. SOOJ GOT HAI!"
***
"Tie it up, Avril, tight."
Arihana had got three other civilans to get together the make shift stretcher from the tarp and brooms.
She removed her finger as Avril tied up the split. "Let's get you seen too properly...up you get," she
smiled to lower the kid onto the stretcher. Then she took one end, and Avril took the other.
***
Sujal Dharma: 32
Location: Rajhastan- Old Rajah Palace-Our lady's Sanctuary.
Sujal ran around, trying to catch the chicken. It was his lunch. He had an hour before he had to get to
chapel and prepare for Evensong. The damned chicken just ran.
He was wearing his blue shorts, and was topless besides. Across his back a blue and black king cobra
glistend in the afternoon sun. No one would think that he literally was a hells' angel.
"Rev, you ready?" called the housekeeper.
"YE-ahh!" The chook clucked as it was bundled under arm.
Later he was pacing the aisle in his black cassock. boiling.
"And peace be wi you!" He legged it out the door, he needed a fag.
=/\= USS Caledonia - CO's Ready Room =/\=
Whatever Chess had been expecting from a monk, it certainly wasn't Brother Dulcian. Instead of the
austere, white-haired aesthete she imagined, Brother Dulcian looked as if he would be more at home
in a boardroom dealing with the cut and thrust of hi-tech, hi-spec sales quangoes.
Only the plain white tunic instead of an Armani suit told a different story to the eye. Classic features,
sharp shrewd eyes and a dry manner all combined to make him an interesting poster-boy for the life of
a recluse.
"I'm glad you contacted us, captain," his fingers were tapping away on a Padd, multi-tasking as they
spoke. "We are extremely grateful for the assistance you will doubtless render us."
"Doubtless," Chess echoed, trying not to lean too far off screen as she attempted to remove Suicide
Cat's claws from her leg.
"There has been another incident," Brother Dulcian announced without preamble. "After the bird that
somehow got into our habitat, we found a small rodent in the cabbages."
Chess just blinked, trying not to make any facetious comment. "How unfortunate. I trust no-one was
injured?"
"Not this time. But the situation is becoming intolerable. We have to check everywhere before we go
about our normal tasks, and the food crops are essential for us to survive." Dulcian frowned. "And
we're still no nearer to discovering what's behind this than we were six months ago."
"Brother Dulcian, can I just re-cap a few issues with you?" Chess diverted. "I understand that the ethos
of your community is 'purity' and as such, all animal, piscine and insect life is banned from contact?"
"Correct," he signed the Padd and held it out whereupon an unseen hand plucked it from his grasp and
whisked it away. "Purity, for us, is the concept of man, plants of nature, and the universe. It's a
symbiotic life and we develop intolerances to animalistic contact after a while. That was what caused
the death of the unfortunate Brother Fisar. His system could not withstand the alien DNA caused by
the contact."
Chess wasn't about to debate the morals of their Order - it wasn't her place to do so, thought privately
she thought they were mad as a box of frogs. "And all your mechanical systems that keep the dome
intact are still apparently functioning normally?"
"Absolutely so, which is the biggest mystery," Dulcian nodded abruptly. "We have some of the finest
scientific and mechanical minds serving our Order here, and they can find nothing wrong at all, no
anomalies, no glitches, no breakdowns. According to every scan and sensor reading, the dome is
airtight except for the oxygen and water filtration systems - and nothing larger than micro-bacteria can
get through there."
"Well, we have several theories, which I won't detail right now," Chess thought that some of the wilder
ones were probably best not mentioned at all, until they'd checked them out. "Plus we have arranged
for several different branches of investigation. For a start, our CMO would like to perform an autopsy
on Brother Fisar..."
"We anticipated this. Our own Infirmarian, Brother Esto, did perform a preliminary autopsy - but his
findings were inconclusive. The body is buried in an airtight, non-degradable casket in our Garden of
Rest. He may be exhumed as you wish."
Chess was somewhat relieved - exhumations were not always well received and she had wondered if
there would be any ethical considerations to argue through. But this was a good start. "We shall treat
the body of Brother Fisar with all due respect, of course. Next, our Operations Chief and our Engineers
will work with your people to examine the structure of the dome, in case our equipment picks up
something that yours might have missed."
"Although I doubt that will be the case, I shall of course give you full access," Dulcian didn't look
perturbed.
Still all good... Chess continued, "Our security officers and our flight department will conduct a search
of the rest of the island, outside the dome. In case there has been some outside interference, then we
shall seek out any possible masked life forms there."
"That is something that we have not been able to do," Dulcian gave a brief, sharkish smile. "Since we
cannot, of course, venture outside the dome. So yes, that all sounds very thorough, Captain. I
commend your efficiency."
Chess privately thought that he'd be better saving his commendations for afterwards, but said nothing
acerbic for fear of getting of on the wrong foot. "I am glad you approve. Now, tell me, is there anything
else we should be aware of? Anything that wasn't coverted by the briefings?"
"I.. do not think so." Dulcian considered. "I should make you aware that our dome also has inbuilt
shielding systems. There is a single area of unshielded panel that you can beam down through, and you
will arrive in our reception chamber. Visitors from the outside world are extremely rare but there are
the occasional necessities. We would ask that you change into robes, as this honours the essence of
our community. Plus, the temperature is akin to a giant greenhouse so your standard uniforms would
be extremely uncomfortable."
Chess wasn't too keen on that, and tried for compromise. "We do have a specific away-team uniform
that is designed for extreme heat. It is white and loose fitting and more practical for us, if we could be
permitted to wear that instead?"
"If the uniforms are new and uncontaminated, you may bring them down with you and change here."
"Yes, that will be ideal." Chess knew for a fact that they were all still wrapped in the stores as the
occasions that the Caly Crew had of shore leave on tropical islands had so far been utterly zero.
"Then we shall look forward to seeing you in.. two days?"
"Two days, at this speed, yes."
"And I believe that Admiral Bishops made you aware of the need to resolve this matter..." the pointed
question was slipped delicate as a stiletto dagger into the ribs of the conversation.
"I am aware of what is at stake," she said quietly. Maybe she ought to tell the crew - ah, she could do
that before they beamed down. "And rest assured we shall do everything to bring this matter to a
successful conclusion."
"Brother Dulcian nodded gravely. "If anything lse occurs in the meantime, please feel free to contact
me." And the comm was closed.
"There's always a backhander somewhere along the line, isn't there?" Chess asked rhetorically as
Suicide Cat leapt up onto the desk. "And don't think *you're* going to be going down there either..
=/\=Main Holodeck, USS Wellington=/\=
Seven medical students held their new found confidence boosters and found them to be quite the
challenge. The Holdoceck had been changed into a shooting range. Sitting in his wooden scout tower
Commander Appleby had the fun of asking the interns to switch the holographic weapons to level 10
and watching them fly halfway across the room when they pulled the triggers. In order to create this
scenario he had the computer reduce the safety settings to ‘Not deadly but extremely painful. This is
not recommended’.
Splat! Another intern slammed into the wall in an unnatural pose. The holographic image at the target
end of the range changed and the ships doors became visible. Through it ensign Reid stepped through
and faced a volley of unaided shots.
“Holy Carp! Hold your fire! HOLD YOUR FIRE! FRIENDLY ON THE RANGE!” Appleby shouted causing
panic amongst the interns causing them to inadvertently fire another volley in every conceivable
direction. For a minute phaser fire rang out all over the range. Appleby had to duck twice in his tower
to avoid being hit; Reid took to hiding behind a small mound of dirt at the end of the range. The
Interns, not so lucky, were in the middle of a fire fight that was coming from their own weapons. It was
like a militant trekkie riot complete with a laser show, warzones and the inevitable hospital overflow.
One poor intern had the bright idea of aiming the phaser away from the commander before he was
frightened by a round that landed somewhere near by. He dropped his rifle which had the unfortunate
consequence of firing and taking off like a missile across the firing platform and going through a
supporting leg of Appleby’s tower in a shower of splinters. There was a sudden silence. Slowly
everybody got to their feet, like frightened bunnies.
A creaking noise came from the remaining leg on Appleby’s Tower. The XO gripped the railing as hard
as he could as it leaned further and further forward. Finally a loud crack and a following crash signalled
Appleby’s fall to the ground.
=/\=Bridge, USS Wellington=/\=
“Captain Urik’s log, Star date... ummm... sometime past lunch today. Too bad the coffee was
unavailable otherwise it’d have been a good day. We have had some success in determining the
location of the missing satellite. We are en-route at warp 5 which should mean we will intercept at
around about dinner time. It makes it difficult and I have asked R’So-RNot to slow the ship to warp 1 so
I can have enough time to enjoy a snifter of brandy with my meal coupled with a nap after. I never like
to work on a full stomach however I don’t really want to drink and captain either. The damn android
came up with a ridiculous solution of not having the brandy with my dinner. He obviously has never
had a high table dinner or enjoyed fine cuisine in his life.
...Oh we still don’t know what we are chasing or why they have taken it, hopefully these answers will
be revealed after dinner.”
Urik tapped the end log button and took a look at the view screen, there wasn’t anything particularly
interesting about the stars at this point in time. To his right Lt. Commander R’So was in his own android
way, wasting time by playing tetris at superhuman speed. Then Lt. Lammar noticed a blip on her sceen.
“Captain, I have an unknown contact directly ahead, we will intercept in 2 minutes.”
The captain nodded “Yellow alert. Commander Appleby, the interns weapon training will have to wait,
will you and Ensign Reid return to your stations.” Over the comms a groan of acknowledgement was
the reply.
A few minutes later the whole of the Alpha shift bridge crew were at their stations, Commander
Appleby was shifting uncomfortably from a sore bum and head, he failed to disclose why it was those
particular parts of his anatomy that had taken the brunt of his pain. At the science station Professor
Mushroom sat with R’So, Lt. Lister joined the bridge crew as well.
“We have a visual.” Lammar reported. “It’s not the satellite but a Ferengi warship is in the area. The
trail leads nearby.”
Captain Urik scratched his nose. There had been no reports of Ferengi warships in this area. Then again
in his books anything with ears as big as large as Tony Abbots and spoke of right wing policies was
likely to be about in the most abject of places as politicians often were. “So we have a missing satellite
and a trail that leads up to a foreign warship. Is anyone else sussed as to what is going on?”
Appleby replied “I would be asking them, since they have been in the area recently.”
R’So noticing this near assumption included some important information. “Captain, this is the Keslek, it
has permission to traverse this area on behalf of merchants as a cargo ship. It was a signed agreement
between the Federation and the Ferengi government in response to pirate raids that were common in
outlying regions several decades ago. I would advise not to engage in hostile behaviour.”
“I’d like to err on the side of caution captain, since there are no other ships in the area and the
unscrupulousness of some in the Ferengi military.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more Henry. Maintain shields and scan the ship.” Urik co-agreed.
The scans came back negative “They appear to have a dampening field over much of their cargo hold.”
“Most interesting” Urik replied.
=/\= SB BoB - Upper Flight Deck =/\=
Surrounded by a mass of pilots demanding information, Quide let out a loud and high pitched whistle
to quiet them as he waved his light source - the pilot's lounge lava lamp on an incredibly long series of
extension cords. It bathed the crowd in an eerie reddish glow, which would be a perfectly creepy
setting for ghost stories if it had just been their dim, red outlines in the pitch black. But, there was faint
starlight through the view ports, and even more light from inside the hanger. Quide had instructed for
every ship to leave its lights on, so as to allow for other ships not to hit them on the way out.
"Sah, I'm afraid BoB personnel are not responsible for any property stolen as a result o the darkness.
Ma'am number one, I'm sorry but I 'ave no idea what valet service y'are talking about. We don't 'ave
a..." Quide paused a moment and looked around - for what or who was anyone's guess. "Y'two stick
around. Those two issues might be related." He turned to another woman who looked old enough to
be his grandmother's great grandmother. "And yes ma'am number two, I 'eard about the Mr. And Ms.
BoB Pageant too, but no, I won't be entering, if there even is one. I don't 'ave the legs for it, y'see."
Looking around to the rest of those gathered, he raised his voice and gestured toward the small fleet
of ships. "Any other questions can be dealt with after we've relocated y'ships. So jump to it."
The pilots shuffled off, some grumbling over their unanswered questions, and some - or, at least, the
one old woman - pinching Tom's rear on her way to her ship.
"Randy old thing," Quide said, shaking his head as he turned around to head to the turbolifts.
"What will you give me to keep me quiet about your infidelity with that crone with the Russian hands?"
came a voice from off to the side.
Crewman Reeds worked his way around the ships and over toward Quide, hands behind his back.
Quide, for his part, didn't seem to care at all about Reeds' question.
"What's this about valet charges?" Lieutenant Quide demanded.
"Valet charges?" Reeds looked perplexed. "Are we getting a valet?"
There was no hint of smugness of cockiness on Reeds' face, and Quide realized that, as of yet, he had
no evidence, and barely any cause for his suspicions except for one incident some time ago and some
suspect behavior that may or may not be the norm. He still believed that the crewman was behind it,
but he was hardly sure, and he couldn't do anything about it even if he was.
"Right, whatever," Quide said dismissively. "I'm 'eaded out in one o the 'ybrids to light the way for the
illumination-challenged ships that 'ave to get latched on to the docking rings. Y'stick around and 'elp
get them all out in an orderly fashion. And 'elp those that need it with their preflights, but steer clear o
that blue 'air over there. She seems to be on the 'unt for younger chaps."
"So I noticed," Reeds said knowingly as he walked away - presumably to do his duty.
"One o these days, I'm going to 'ave to figure that one out," Quide muttered to himself before running
off to the turbolift to head to the lower flight deck.
*****
Half an hour later found Lieutenant Quide sitting out in a hybrid, acting as a large, floating flashlight.
Unfortunately, sitting was really all he was doing, and soon he found himself tensing up as the walls
closed in around him. Not even the cheerful melody of Always Look On The Bright Side of Life could
keep his mind off of his feeling like a sardine.
"Do we really even want people 'oo don't 'ave the forethought to maintain their docking lights on the
station?" He asked himself through his hyperventilating.
He tried to calm himself down and think back to his session with Counselor Dharma. He had talked to
her about this very issue and she had offered her sagely advice... So what had it been?
Running through the conversation in his mind, he tried to recall the specifics. He entered the holodeck
to a scene straight out of Braveheart, had tea poured down his throat... psychobabble, psychobabble...
something about fight or flight. Oh yeah, that was helping a lot right about now. It was the lack of
fighting or 'flighting' that was causing his problem.
Reaching under his seat, he pulled out his panic attack medicine - a small bottle of liquor. Of course, it
wouldn't solve the problem, but it certainly wouldn't hurt.
"I could be a counselor," he told himself as cheerfully as he could, given his circumstances. "Take two
bottles o this and call me in the morning."
=/\= SB BoB - Command Centre =/\=
"Careful," Mulder yelped as coffee spilled down her tunic. Again. Really, the entire command centre
needed a traffic cop to direct the flow of crew bringing reports, stopping to gossip, and making the
most of the light.
Four large spot-lights had been set up in each corner of the room, and their strong artificial light gave a
semblance of normality - if 'normality' meant it felt like they were all actors on the film set of a
spectacularly low-budget sci-fi show.
"Reports?" she held out a hand as Petty Officer Tyner brought her the latest updates. To save her
reading, he rattled them off. "Infirmary is busy, but now overwhelmed. Injuries are mostly bumps,
bruises, breaks and burns. No fatalities, no critically injured. But a whole of folks will be limping or
nursing sore heads for the next few days."
"Right. Thanks," she rubbed her eyes. The lights were very bright, almost too bright for comfort. And
they made the shadows of the room seem much darker by comparison. "I suppose I ought to speak
with Main Engineering and see what the latest is."
From the corner of her eye she could see Lupha and Morrie exchanging a look that clearly showed they
were trying to find a way to politely say, 'What? You mean since the last time you called them, only ten
minutes ago?'
"Yeah," she replied to the unspoken body language. "Yeah, on second thoughts maybe I'll leave it. I'm
sure they'll comm me once they know something."
"They *did* say forty-eight hours, Captain," Lupha was feeling brave. "And it's only been two hours so
far."
"Mmmph.." Mulder muttered. "I'll go and get a coffee. Check out how things are going around the rest
of the station." It would be good to clear her head for a while.
"Flashlight, captain?" Tyner had appeared at her side, torch in hand.
"Good idea," she sighed as she left the command centre.
Outside in the corridor, the blackness was suddenly quite overwhelming. With no viewports and no
computer lighting, the depth of darkness took her by surprise, and she fumbled the flashlight for a
moment, switching it on with undignified haste.
As she walked carefully along the corridor, she thought of the last time she'd been in such darkness. At
the start of the year, down in the Darkside levels, when the wretched people who were running the
Dungeons and Dragons Tournament let loose the Metablis Creatures... *that* had been a right palaver.
It had been the Pterodactyl flying around the Promenade that had really been the final straw..
She smiled in the darkness to herself as she thought back. Vaughan and the Nomads had dressed in
Roman Legionnaire's outfits, in keeping with the spirit of the tournament - and the sight of so many
muscular legs on display marching around had been a rare treat for the females on the station.
Then there had been the terrifying encounter in the darkest tunnel, and she had found herself alone
with Vaughan for the first time after all the upheaval of the previous year... oh yes. happy days. Now
the smile was more of a smirk.
Stepping into the turbolift, she decided she would stop off at their new quarters and set some candles
out for later. Candlelight and the holographic fire would make a welcoming glow for when Vaughan got
back off duty that evening. Although they'd been living together for a month or so now, it still felt...
exciting.
After all those years of going home to an empty, single person's quarters, this was more than she could
ever have hoped for...her pleasant reverie was interrupted by a comm from Ops.
^"Captain, we've got more ships requesting permission to dock. I've explained about the blackout but
they say they don't mind. They think it'll be fun."^
"Fun? Bloody tourists," she grumbled. "Alright, but tell them they'll just have to wait in line until
Lieutenant Quide can sort them out. And also tell them that they can come aboard for commercial and
recreational purposes, but they'll have to sleep on their own ships, we can't be doing with guest
quarters right now. The less idiots bumbling about in the dark the better, right now."
^"Sure thing, Captain."^
She muttered to herself as she closed he comm and stepped out into the corridor. Bloody tourists, just
coming to gawp. People got sloppy when it was dark and "Crap."
She was in the wrong corridor. The subconscious reminiscence had brought her not to the new
quarters on Level 77, but to the deck where her old quarters had been. Usually she'd appreciated the
solitude of being the only inhabitant of that section - but now, it seemed more remote and isolated
than ever before.
She turned abruptly to retrace her steps, only to see the turbolift doors closing and hearing the
constipated whine that signified it was moving again. She sighed, it really was going to be one of those
days. And depending on how many passengers were waiting, it could be several minutes before it
returned.
But... at the far end of the corridor was another lift, so it made sense to head thataway. The darkness
seemed to settle around her like an uneasy blanket as she walked forward, her footsteps echoing
unnaturally loud in the still, black air.
The flashlight danced unnaturally elongated shadows across the walls and she felt her pace speed up
involuntarily. Reaching her old quarters though, she couldn't resist peeking in. The room was shrouded
in the same darkness, lightened a little by the starlight coming in from the viewport.
The few old pieces of furniture she'd left there stood as stark outlines against the fuzzy grey
illumination, and it felt alien, as if she'd never lived there.
Time to move on. She had a new home now.
Once the door closed, the blackness seemed even more intense than before and she felt a tiny prickle
at the back of her neck. Dammit, she'd stood face to face with some mean mother-fekker bad guys in
hr time, and fought some bloody battles - so why the hell was she so spooked by the darkness? It
didn't make sense.
A snippet of a quote flickered through her head as she walked. How did it go? "Almost every species in
the universe has an irrational fear of the dark, but they're wrong, because it's not irrational. It's... ' It's
what? She couldn't remember. It was just a line from some old kids sci-fi show, but it had always stuck
in her mind, because it was alarmingly true.
Sight was the most vital of all the senses. Without hearing or speech it was still possible to orientate, to
communicate, to be aware of danger. Without sight, all the other senses couldn't balance, and a
person felt alone and isolated.
No, fear of the dark was not irrational. Well, fear of what might be within the dark was irrational
because if it hadn't been there a second before, then it wasn't there now.
~Stop it!~ she told herself firmly. ~Your mind is playing tricks and you're letting it ramble. Stop it. Look Turbolift ahead~
She forced herself to walk steadily and slowly. Was it her imagination, or was the dark even darker
than before? No, that wasn't possible.
She stopped, head half-turned, was that a noise?
Yes, it was - the other turbolift stopped, and she realised her hand on the panel was damp with sweat.
As the door creaked open there was a hum of chatter followed by a quick, "Captain..." as the
inhabitants tried to straighten up to some semblance of attention.
"Relax," the relief of human company made her feel slightly euphoric. "It's a bit too much of a tight
squeeze to stand on ceremony." The flashlights bobbed in agreement, and the tubolift sped upwards.
Sped being probably a little optimistic for a BoB lift, Maybe Stenna-ed would have been more accurate.
When her correct destination arrived, she stepped out with determination. The dark was just the
absence of light. Nothing less. And certainly nothing more. And she kept telling herself that all the way
back to the command centre.
=/\= SB BoB - Marine Deck =/\=
"Get that fekkin' light out of my face, Eccers," a disgruntled voice was heard as the victim shielded his
eyes.
"Ah shut it," Private Chris Ecclestone grumbled, hefting the large emergency lamp further around. "Go
and play with the new kids if you aren't going to do any work, ya prat."
The anonymous grumble-ee wandered off and Ecclestone thumped the lamp into place, swinging the
head round. In doing so he illuminated the other member of his recon team in a backlight worthy of a
Boyzone concert.
"Hey, Tennant, you wanna be a rock star?" the craggy-faced Ecclestone smirked.
"What? me? Oh yeah...." the more slightly built marine shrugged in his usual disarmingly vague way.
"Rock star, marine, all the same, innit?" He shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Wassup?"
Tennant grimaced, "Y'know, ever since we got back from the MU I haven't been too fond of the
darkness."
Ecclestone chuckled, "Now that wouldn't be anything to do with the fact that we were fighting an
enemy that only ever came out when it was dark, was it?"
"Nah. Probably nothing to do with that. *Anyway*," Tennant gave a quirky grin. "You met any of the
new babies yet?" he jerked his head to where the new Nomads stood patiently in the centre of the
deck, some awaiting further orders, some already gone to try and find their bunks.
"Nope," Ecclestone slammed the power connector more firmly into the wall outlet. "Why?"
"Aw, no reason," Tennant stood aimlessly for a moment. "Just wondered if we'd get a replacement,
that's all. For the Recon team. You know?"
"Yeah." Now Ecclestone stopped for a moment, as they remembered the casualty list after the final
battle on New Earth. "Yeah, I wonder."
*****
In the centre of the new Nomads enclosure, John-Boy had shaken off the verbal encroachment of
Fidoe and was just quietly taking in what he could see of the marine deck. never volunteer for scut
work unless to a very senior officer. Otherwise it's energy expended for nothing, and you don't get any
brownie points. At least, that was his personal motto.
Then he stopped, and his usual laid-back demeanour changed dramatically.
Staring at the figure silhouetted by a spotlight, he frowned. He had been right. It was him...
With a smirk on his face he took a few steps forwards, so that the light hit him full on, illuminating him
in a vibrant ring of light.
At that moment, Tennant turned to move and caught the advance, and stared. "Oh no. Oh
nonononono.."
"Eh?" Ecclestone loomed beside him. "What's up?"
"Over there," he indicated towards John-Boy, whose smirked broadened. "What the hell if *he* doing
here?" This can't be right."
"Bloke dead ahead? You know him?" Ecclestone looked between the two of them, puzzled.
"Oh yeah. We go way back. Way, way back. All the way back to boot camp, in fact."
Seeing that he'd been clocked, John-Boy advanced further, "Well, well, well.. if it isn't my old comrade
Davey Tennant. Fancy you ending up here?"
Tennant looked as if he'd bitten into something a bit past it's sell-by date. "John-Boy. Still call you that,
do they? Or have they found something more suitable?"
"They call me plenty of things," John-Boy was still smirking, but his hooded eyes sharpened. "Lots of
things."
"Well *I* don't know what to bloody well call ya," Ecclestone cut into the atmosphere.
"Oh, right, sorry, yeah," Tennant said as if coming out of a vague figure. "Private Simm. We all called
him John-Boy. We were... always competing against each other at boot camp."
John-Boy gave a lazy, insouciant smile, "Dead level, we were. They couldn't mark between us usually.
But I think I got the better of you in the end."
"Funny that," Tennant gave him a hard stare. "Yeah, we always did wonder how you pulled off that
final stunt."
"A little wonderment is good for the soul," John-Boy gave a little flourish. "But here we both are.
Fate?"
"Fate, or something more unpleasant," Tennant shrugged, and turned abruptly away.
John-Boy gave a sly smile and looked at his departing back. "He always was a strange one.."
Ecclestone surprised himself by wishing for a moment that their team leader Angel Frost was there.
Sure, she was a grad-A bitch but she cut through the crap and would have dragged the past out of both
of them. But Frost was trying to be important on the other side of the deck at that moment, so he just
gave John-Boy a challenging stare before turning away himself.
John-Boy ambled back to the group of Nomads and picked up his Bergen. Maybe he'd try for a decent
bunk now, unless some interfering non-comm sidetracked him. So here was Davey Tennant... still in
Recon.. he gave a short, silent bark of laughter at the thought.
*****
"What the hell was that all about?" Ecclestone caught up with Tennant. "Bad blood, yeah?"
"You could say that," Tennant looked a million miles away for a moment, but then gave one of his
characteristic cheeky grins. "But it shouldn't spoil a good blackout. Let's get the other lamps set up."
Ecclestone just shook his head and led the way back into the stores. If this new guy was Recon too,
they might well be looking at their new replacement. Heh, the group dynamics were going to be
interesting, to say the least..
=/\= On a transport ship approaching Starbase Bob =/\=
Colin held his head in his hands as he sat on the transport contemplating his future. He didn't have any
high hopes.
When he had boarded the transport it had been extremely busy, with several little children playing
with toy Klingon Bat'leths at either side of him. Luckily these were only imitation toy weapons, as Colin
had been hit over the head several times. Neither time had be got mad, instead he just hung his head
deeper and deeper.
Luckily the children got off at the last planet, leaving Colin to himself.
For his entire career he'd been on the move, unable to find anywhere that he fitted in. Starships in this
modern world he lived in were crewed by incredibly enthusiastic people, eager to please and do the
best they could, being promoted wildly for all their ass-kissing. Colin wasn't like that. He didn't like hard
work, and didn't see why there was all this pressure around to “be the best that he could be”. Why
couldn't he just be himself and chill out?
So Colin just hung his head and wondered about his next assignment. If they forced him to try hard, he
promised he would just do his best to get transferred ... again. He started to wonder what he had to do
to actually get fired from Starfleet. The reason he was being transferred to Starbase Bob was that on
his last assignment the “USS Kebabbish”, he'd turned up for duty twice in his pyjamas. The CO seemed
to mind more the second time when the button on his boxers came undone sitting down at the science
console.
Colin wasn't on a voyage of self-destruction, he wasn't suicidal or anything. He wasn't deliberately
trying to be constantly transferred to every ship and starbase in the galaxy, only until he found one
where he could get away with doing as little work as possible.
The announcement was made that they were approaching Starbase Bob, and Colin looked out of the
window at his new home, and wondered how long he would stay here for.
The place wasn't especially exciting, and looked a bit grimy. “The people who clean this floating heap
of metal seem lazier than me!” he said to himself.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
The starlight filtered in from outside the viewport, and inside the dark office Mulder had set up a small
emergency spotlight plugged into the main supply and so bypassing the lighting circuits. It was only the
strength of a table-lamp but it was sufficient.
The light from her commconsole screen cast a reflective light on her face as she finished updating
Vaughan. "And that's about it, really. After Pa gave me that large hint about the Patriots and the Breen
I kept an ear to the ground. And then when captain Caddie told me about the isolated incidents with
the Breen I got that feeling... that it was linked. When this message came through... that confirmed it. I
expect the Patriots must have helped them get it to me. Damn. Why me? Why now?"
"Because of me, they know how you'd react," Cade said almost apologetically. Almost. "It's a mystery
that you wouldn't ignore."
"Aye, they don't miss a trick, do they? I suppose we'll have to investigate - or at least meet with them.
I'd go myself but what with all this - " she waved a hand at the dark, shadowed room, "I can hardly up
sticks and set off on a fishing expedition."
"Very true." He wanted to cross his arms to help him think, but...
"It'll have to be the Marines, won't it?" She sighed. "I know they're here, the Pendragon docked and
then took off to evade the storm. Have you met your..replacement yet?" She hated to say the word. It
reminded her that Vaughan's departure was now imminent.
"Yes, I have," he said as he continued to stare at the console. "He's getting settled into his office and
quarters," he added absently without having to expound that it was his old office and quarters that
Szabo was moving into.
"What's he like?" she asked, subdued. "Is he up to the job?"
"What?" Cade looked up at her as his brain comprehended the question on a delay. "Oh, he'll do," he
said with a smile and then looked back at the file that the Breen had sent, wondering why the
coordinates seemed familiar to him. "I asked him to come up here once he was done unpacking."
"Given marine efficiency that means he's probably already climbing up the stairs to this office as we
speak."
The door chimed immediately after.
Rolling her eyes she laughed quietly,"Right on cue." Raising her voice she called out, "Enter."
Roman stepped in and saluted smartly. "Captain Mulder, First Lieutenant Roman Szabo reporting for
duty."
Mulder snapped off a return salute with commendable efficiency. "At ease, Lieutenant." She cleared
her throat slightly, hoping she sounded professional and detached. "Welcome to Starbase BoB. I'd like
to say it's not always so unpredictable around here, but actually this sort of thing is pretty much par for
the course." She waved at hand at the covering shadows.
About to continue with a formal welcome, she paused as her eyes adjusted to take in the newcomer
properly, and her next words came out very slowly, "Why... do I get the feeling I know you from
somewhere..?"
Cade smiled and nudged her. "That's because the Lieutenant's face was on the Marine recruiting ads
on the Promenade a few months ago. Quite an honour."
"If you say so, Colonel," Roman said with almost a growl. It was no secret that despite the fame and
honor accompanying being picked for the recruiting posters, he'd been dragged into it kicking and
screaming. "Pretty much ruined any chances of going into undercover work if I ever felt the inclination,
though."
"But you made Torso of the Month in the March edition of SS&U Supplemental," Mulder said with an
innocent look. "So there's plenty of other career avenues, I should imagine."
Not that Szabo would have a career as a male model in the usual sense, she reckoned. He was as bald
as bald could be and then bald some more, and his nose looked like it had been broken so many times
it had decided to arrange itself into a pattern so irregular that it would confuse the enemy. But there
was no mistaking the solid, healthy muscle tone of a man who lived to fight in the peak of physical
prowess. Mulder admitted to herself that she might be rubbish with faces sometimes but she never
forgot a decent pair of pecs.
"Undercover work? I'm shocked, Lieutenant. Undercover work is for long nosed snoops, not fighting
men. Please tell me you're not a Secret Squirrel wannabe."
"Not really," he said with a slight grin. "I prefer a straight-up fight, ma'am."
Cade's grin was much broader. "And by straight-up fight, the Lieutenant means that he'd bring a
bazooka to a knife fight and stick it straight up someone's posterior. Victory through guile, deceit, and
superior firepower I believe are the words you used, yeah?"
"They tend to settle the argument, sir."
"And... you've had experience in that field?" Mulder asked cautiously. Damn, but if he was going to
survive this posting he'd need all of that, and more.
"The Lieutenant's being slightly circumspect, my dear Captain. Standing before you is one of the
survivors of the 81st Rapid Reaction. One of four NCO's given battlefield commissions as a result of the
combat in the Delta Quadrant. And he's a published author...?"
"Master Sun and Stellar Combat," Roman said, still with the slight growl in his voice.
"It's an analysis of Sun Tzu's opus," Cade explained, "and how it applies to contemporary fighting
troops, like Marines, in this age of starship travel." He smiled again. "Required reading now at
Sandhurst, Marine Officer Training School, and other officer candidate programs." He turned to Caz
and rested his hand on her shoulder. "The Nomads are in very good hands with Lieutenant Szabo,
m'dear."
"I shall be guided by your recommendation, dear," she reached up and laid her hand briefly over his. "I
trust your judgement absolutely." Then she did a little double-take and murmured in mock dismay, "Oh
no. Please don't tell me we're starting to morph into the Regulators Risk.."
"Wouldn't that make everyone's head spin and pop off," Cade replied, just as amused.
"In that case, we'll become a pair of utterly charming, ruthless, cold-blooded killers who wouldn't
hesitate to send anyone into the gravest of dangers without batting an eyelid.." she checked herself
and sighed in ironic self-deprecation. "Oh, wait..."
Turning to Szabo her grin was almost impish as she said, "And on that note... I'd like to welcome you to
BoB by sending you into the gravest of dangers, if you choose to accept the mission."
"Mission is a mission, Captain," Roman said confidently. "And if it wasn't dangerous, they wouldn't
send Marines, they'd send Girl Scouts. But, I didn't realize that Base Captains could issue Marine
taskings." The statement wasn't said with insubordination in mind and his tone implied curiosity.
Looking to Vaughan for guidance, Mulder said slowly, "It's going to be a little difficult to explain. For a
start, I am aware that you only report to me as a matter of courtesy, and you do not take direct orders
from the station commander. But over the years - in fact, from the very start - on BoB the usual rules
become blurred. Out here we fight together, and we're very integrated. So I've become accustomed to
thinking of the marines as a part of my station...and giving the same level of involvement as I do all my
other departments."
She wasn't sure if that was coming out right but continued anyway. "This mission is something I would
automatically ask Colonel Vaughan to take care of, or investigate myself. Due to present circumstances
neither is an option. If this goes ahead, I do not want it to go any further than this station - it must not
go up the chain of SFMC command. If it became public knowledge to any degree then the people who
risked their lives to bring me this information would undoubtedly be killed. So if you are willing to
accept the task under those restrictions, then I shall explain further. If not, please say so and this
conversation ends right here and I'll take care of it using other resources."
"If this goes ahead, I do not want it to go any further than this station - it must not go up the chain of
SFMC command. If it became public knowledge to any degree then the people who risked their lives to
bring me this information would undoubtedly be killed. So if you are willing to accept the task under
those restrictions, then I shall explain further. If not, please say so and this conversation ends right
here and I'll take care of it using other resources."
"What's the target," Szabo asked simply.
"Okay. Here's the deal." Mulder nodded at his tacit acceptance of terms. "I've received information
from... reliable sources that I have every reason to believe are genuine about an alleged clear and
present danger to this sector. You will take a party of marines and infiltrate Breen space to rendezvous
with a group of Breen dissidents at their base. They will explain the situation once you arrive. These are
the same group that risked everything to bring back Colonel Malone and Commander Cater a few years
ago, so I do trust them - as much as anyone can trust the Breen, of course."
Cade augmented her comments with, "These dissidents have motives that are currently unknown to
us. We know they're dissidents because they appear to have dissent with the established
government." He shrugged. "The only problem is that we don't know what their problem is with the
established ruling order. Hell, man, we don't even know what the Breen ruling order is for that
matter."
"Never had any dealings with them, myself," Roman admitted, "but, from what I've gleaned from
intelligence reports, they're about as trustworthy as narcoleptic Ferengi." He sniffed so that his nostrils
flared. "Of course, that same description applies to every intelligence weenie that I've ever met."
Mulder gave a grim smile, "Once you leave here there will be no communications between us unless in
case of dire emergency. You will be the mission commander on the ground, and will use whatever
means necessary to eliminate the threat, using your own best judgement. And around here, that
usually means blowing up an inordinately large amount of property. But what they hell, your
explosives budget comes out of SFMC funds, not mine, so knock yourself out."
Roman took a small combat-proofed padd from the breast pocket of his fatigues and wrote a few
notes down. When Cade gave him and amused smirk, Szabo responded, "Yes, it's old fashioned to
write it out, Colonel, but a hand can't be eavesdropped on." He tipped the padd so that Vaughan could
see it before adding, "and even if someone does look over my shoulder, I can be fairly certain that they
can't read Magyar script."
"Touché," Cade said with a slight dip of his head.
Roman finished and held the stylus over the screen. "What support can I expect, Captain?"
"I'll provide a pilot and transport. The two best pilots on the station are Slow Ride and Songbird," she
gave Vaughan a mischievous little grin. "And since you're talking to Slow Ride right now and she's got a
station to prevent from turning to the Dark Side, then you'll be getting Songbird. After me, he's the
next best pilot you'll find in this sector," she said with no hint of modesty whatsoever. "And what's
more, he's used to flying marines about their business." Now she gave Vaughan another grin,
remembering the ruckus back on New Earth.
Cade nodded his head in agreement. "Songbird should have probably been a dirt-eater with a Marine
Attack Wing with his, demonstrated I might add, skills at Close Aero Support. Much to the chagrin of
the Mirror Universe, although I do believe, technically, that it was Sergeant McManus that levelled the
city block."
"Yeah, good job we never got landed with the repair bills," she smirked.
"That is the truth," Cade breathed out. He looked at Roman. "Apologies, Lieutenant, for our trip down
Inside Information Lane. I'd suggest downloading Captain Mulder's and my after action reports from
this station's last brush with the Mirror Universe. Something to keep you occupied on that shuttle
flight."
"I'll take it under advisement, Colonel," Roman intoned before looking back at Mulder. "Captain, what
sort of vessel is our transport craft? I'd like to get a rough idea of what kind of load-out I can bring
along."
"The vessel you'll be using is one of my own, and it's survived flying out of an exploding planetoid, so
I'm sure it can take whatever the Breen throw at it - if it comes to that."
"Exploding planetoid," Roman said softly as he wrote a couple of more notes, "sounds like I need to
download more than just the most recent AAR's." He looked back up. "May I ask how you got the
callsign, ma'am?"
With another amused look at Vaughan she replied, "You'd have to ask Sergeant Canowicackte about
my callsign. He was the one that coined it, when I was piloting the Nomads out of the aforementioned
exploding planetoid. Like I said earlier, around here things and people that are on the wrong side of us
tend to get blown up quite a lot."
"Fair enough," he said and tapped the stylus on the padd one more time for emphasis before slipping it
into his pocket. "When do you want us to leave?"
"Time is of the essence on this, Lieutenant," Cade said directly. "The dissidents have a small window
during which they're willing to wait for you. If you're late, there's no guarantee as to what you'll find
when you get there."
"Seven days, they said," Mulder added. "It'll take three to four days travel there, with only one pilot although I know that Lieutenant Quide will push as fast as he can. I believe he stays awake with the aid
of some little chemical friends, but I'd only pull him on that if he gets too strung out. He really does
cope extremely well with utter and total exhaustion. I think it' becomes a seventh sense that BoBers
develop through some accelerated evolution once they arrive here. So.. if you leave within forty-eight
hours, that should get you there in time."
"Then, I guess we should pack." He stopped for a moment as he pondered whether to ask his next
question.
"Out with it, Lieutenant," Cade said with a smile.
"Sir, I'm new to the Nomads. I know the qualities of the replacements that I brought with me, but the
rest of the unit is an unknown quantity. I would appreciate a briefing at your earliest convenience on
which teams to bring along."
"I think we can probably do that as we walk back to the barracks," Cade said. "It will be a short
discussion." He turned his eyes onto his beloved. "Unless you have some input to bring to the table?"
Mulder gave a smile and shook her head, "I wish there was more information I could give, but you
know as much as I do now. But if there's anything else I can suggest, I will. What sort of input did you
have in mind?"
Cade smiled. "Any teams of the Nomads that you would prefer stayed here on Terra Firma, if you will,
to assist with security operations. I already know which one that you want me to pack into Lieutenant
Szabo's shuttle first."
"Oh, I think I can put Private Frost right on the top of the list," Mulder chuckled. "Although, I suppose it
does make sense. Recon is her speciality, and if she's doing her job then she isn't making anyone else's
life hell. The KnightMare will hold about twenty souls plus the pilot - if you don't mind playing sardines
and sleeping in shifts," she shrugged apologetically. "But it's the best ship for the expedition - no
Starfleet markings or registration, and tough as old boots."
She walked with them to the door, "And luckily, there's no immediate emergencies happening around
here right now - well, I can hardly count a lights-out as an emergency, not by BoB standards. So leave
the ones that still need some recuperation time, just as a few spare hands to back up the security
department in case things take longer to repair than we anticipate."
As they exited, she gave Vaughan a private smile and murmured so quietly that only he could hear,
"Candlelit dinner for us tonight, my love."
=^= BoB environs =^=
"You light up my life, you give me ..." the voice came out of the darkness into Baxter Mattingly's left
ear.
"Hank?" he asked.
"Baxter?" Hank called.
"Don't move," Baxter said.
"I'm trying to find my way to my mum's shop," Hank replied. "Is that your foot?"
"No," Baxter replied.
"It is mine," K'Ral said. "You are standing on it."
"Sorry," Hank said.
Just then from around the corner came a glow, followed by Jyan Chera. He was carrying a birthday
cake with all the candles lit.
"Light," Baxter said. "Does anyone know where we are?"
Baxter was standing directly under the level designation, which K'Ral pointed out in Klingon bluntness.
"Right," Baxter said. "We'll just go down the corridor and follow the cake. Jyan you lead."
"Why is it the four of us always seem to meet up when we have a disaster?" Hank asked.
"It is Kismet," K'Ral said.
"What?" Jyan asked. "That's not Klingon."
"It is the same in all cultures," K'Ral said. "Fate. Luck."
In the glow of the candles, K'Ral noticed something in Baxter's belt. "Why do you not use your light?"
he asked.
"Batteries," Baxter said.
"Saving or none?" Hank asked.
"Both," came the reply as they rounded the corner onto the dark promenade.
"There are some glows," K'Ral said.
"People are industrious," Baxter said. "I've got to check the shops, boys. Why don't you wander along
and don't get into any trouble."
"How can we find trouble?" K'Ral asked. "We are following a cake."
"Hurry up," Jyan called. "There's 50 hungry kids waiting for this in the dark."
Hank and K'Ral quietly went the other way.
'Ascension'
~*~*~* Vedas hall Somtime in the future....Urean Colony, First Left off Jupiter ~*~*~*~
The hall was bristling and bubbling, a frisson of activity. Most of the reformed, repatriated colonials
were there. Immediate relatives, the colonial senate council. After what seemed an interminable time,
they were here. Safe, or in hindi, Surakshid. Now it was time. The anointing had never been carried
out, with the death of the last governor being so quick, there had been no immediate plans as the
colony scattered to the four winds.
The Great Vidya Hall resembled the knave of an Abbey. Evoking memories of the coronations that
chequred the history of mankind. But this was no coronation. This was an ascension. From the rafters
hung the Colonial Standards, the Dhama family arms. A scimitar and a trident perpindicular to one
another. A scarlet attired knave scrambled towards the dais, that resembled the would be high alter
Above which hung a blue and red tapastry, ten by ten. A blue expanse onto which the red outline of
Ganesh the Elephant God had been batiked.
On the dais was a thronelike seat, crowed with deep scarlet cushions. At the foot was a couldron,
vapouring with the smell of mustard oil.
A pearlescent white conch shell was lifted and the sound that emanated rang out through the room,
silencing them all to attention. They had waited far too long.
As the two oaken doors swept open, there was a small flurry of marigold. The waiting troupe held their
breath as a shaft broke in. Then there were footsteps. Small footsteps as a young child made his way
down the aisle. In his hand was a small clay lamp. The flame flickered as Suraj counted the thirty seven
steps that lead to the dais. He had counted them during the rehearsal. He had been dressed by his
mother. In a sillen shiwani, a traditional indian outfit. White silken pantaloons with white winkle picker
slippers, with a red ochre tunic. He had battled to have his hair spiked.
'Thirty five...thirty...six...'
The knave, dressed in scarlet, his head crowned with a peaked cap with a single feather, took the clay
lamp from the boy. A single wink, with a chirpy grin, Suraj was dismissed to a pew. The clay lamp was
dropped into the couldron, sparking metre high flame. Agni sakshi. The fire witness to todays events.
Then there were drums.
Drums as Suraj was followed by his grandfather down the aisle. Jevan was dressed in the same green
Nehru collared Suit that had worn when his own wife had ascended. Toady was different. Arihana
ascended alone. He too counted down. Jevan had in his hands a silver salver, bedded with marigolds
on top of which lay two things. Robe of State. The neros type log coat that as the goverors' state garb.
A scarlet scabbard, rescued from Arihanas' closet on BoB. It had been her mothers, as the Sword Of
State, it was an important artefact.
Jevan walked up the dais, to take up his own seat on the nearside. There were more travellers down
the aisle. Two mace bearers, and Jevan had to smile. This was a deviation from the normal order of
proceedings. One was Devon, the other was Sujal. Devon had on his one shoulder a sheened baseball
bat that clashed with his outfit that matched Surajs.Then there was Suaj, the anglican priest who held a
cricket bat. That would confuse the traditional senate council. The two men arrived at the dais, and
pressed Arihanas' two toys into two holders at the base of the flaming couldron.
Now there was a fan fare, as the awaiting congregation took to their feet. They stood and turned their
faces towards the door.
She was here. Had taken her forever. But she was here.
She couldn't have looked less under dressed. She had wanted to turn to turn up in full dress uniform.
But the council saw it as prentious and despotic. Logic that made her roll her eyes and scorn. Instead,
Arihana wore what her mother had always worn. A pair of black trousers, and a crispy white blouse.
Only she stamped her foot. Made this her own, by pinning to the pocket her medals from the life that
was beyond all this.
He feet were bare. Cold, and bare.
Arihana walked slowly down the aisle. Slowly. For in her arms, weighing them down was a white
marble edifice of sorts. Wrought from blue-veined marble was another elephant shaped object. The
eyes were two rubies, between which was a streak of vermillion.
Eight kilos. That was how much it weighed. She had whinged chronically in the rehearsal as she had
dragged a sack of spuds. With a light thud, Arihana planted the elephant deity onto the floor of the
dais and walked up to sit on the expansive seat.
"Ladies, and gentleman, my dearly beloved," Jevan stood and started to speak. His words bouncing
around. "It is today that we re-claim and rejoice. For what we so nearly lost, is truly our again."
Arihana looked away a moment, muttering to herself, wanting the show on the road.
Jevan visibily exhaled. This was all rather scary. He had worried that it would never happen. He turned
towards Sujal and gave a nod.
Sujal Dharma, the one nephew who had caused furrowed brows and itching of temples on being
ordained, scampered up. In his hands he had a tome.
Arihana realised that this was her cue. She stepped off the all enveloping seat and came forwards. Sujal
put the tome into her hands as they stood before the crowd. No one quite knew what text it was.
Some believed it was the Bhagvand Gita, or a neo-classical Bible. Rumour had it, that it was infact
Dante's Inferno, or better still. Paradise lot.
"Arihana. Will you lead for truth, inspite of obstacles, and for the furtherment of your people."
Her heart beat. She could hear her heart beat.
"I will."
"Do you promise to protect, inspire and fight for freedom of being." Sujal posed the next statement.
Trying to remember the script.
"I do."
One more. There was always one more.
"Arihana. Is it your will, for all we know, to be increased. For that to be shared, and made greater still
for the future and greater good of your colony."
"It is." She whispered, realising that these were only words. Words that she had been raised to say.
Sujal smiled, relived for his own part, as he squeezed her hand and mouthed the word' breathe' befoe
walking away.
Arihana stood for a moment, lost looking.Only to poked away from her thoughts as a hand landed on
her shoulder. She held out her arnsm as the long coat was thread onto them. She buckled it up, her
head bowed. As she did this, material was tied around it. A yard or so, of pink starched material to
create a turbo.
"Oow," she grumbled in a low whisper, pressing her hand to below her ear and ping it out to hear
again. This resulted in a sharp glare from her father She was walked back to the seat, but this time had
to kneel.
Jevan had been handed a cushion. On which sat a white gold and platignum coronet, dripping with a
hash of garnets and polished rubies.
Arihana winced as there was a splashing towards her of sugared water. Blessed and made holy, she
was realising what today was going to lead to.
"By the grace of the Universe, the power of faith and unity. Be strong and able." Jevan pushed the
edges of the coronet into the material of the turban. "On yer feet, nearly done," he whispered.
Arihana did as she was told. She spotted a knave running across with a coconut.
"Take this and walk. In your mothers' footsteps, and all those who have gone before you." He said
handing her the scarlet scabbard. "Go on, git that girl a coconut," again he whispered, although
beaming.
Arihana nodded, and took up the scabbard. Unsheating the blade, she twirled it a moment. The
coconut was sitting on a column. She had a good idea of what to do. She had been made to practice
with watermelons.
With a thwack, the blade landed to slice the nut into two. A cascade of juice, that made her wipe her
brow.
"Take you first steps," Jevan was next to her again. A large pan, full of red water arrived. More
vermillion. It was placed onto the floor before her. Sheathing the sword into the scabbard now at her
waist, Arihanas' feet flip flopped across the floor. Across the floor and into the water.
Then she walked. Walked with the weight of the colony on her shoulders. Red footprints in her wake.
"For Freedom, and knowledge." The heralds had begun. "Flying on the four winds. Nourished by the
earth, and witnessed by fire. Defender of Dharma, and duty-bound. Arihana Jaya Jacinta. Governor
Anointed. Urean Colony."
=/\= USS Caledonia - Sickbay =/\=
Not for the first time the arrival of Bree to Sickbay was accompanied by his complaints and chuntering.
The unhappy noises he often made gave Tol and Carol a chance to quickly tidy a few things up before
he arrived. Padds were thrown into hasty piles, empty hyposprays were kicked under the furthest biobeds and the most innocent looks possible were plastered on their faces just before Bree poked his
scowling face round the door.
"Idiots."
"What? We've not done anything?" Tol looked up from the various vials of medication he was
pretending to organise.
"Not you two." muttered Bree as he hopped up onto one of the bio-beds. "Those blasted Monks. You
two are just idiots in training." His legs swung backwards and forwards. From out his lab coat pocket he
pulled his battered tricorder and started to flick it open and shut in agitation.
Carol and Tol shared a look. They could sense that there was a rant in the offing. Which could one of
two ways. Bree would moan himself out and leave them alone for the rest of the shift, or he would be
worked up into a bitter frenzy. One which generally didn't end well for them. The last one had been
almost immediately after returning from the MU. Tol had been made to scrub Sickbay from top to
bottom until it shone. As this was the Caledonia Tol had only managed to make the paintwork look a
little less flaky.
"What Monks? Are you going to clue is in on what went on?" Carol asked. They hadn't seen Bree since
the briefing.
There was a final click as he closed the long suffering piece of medical equipment, "We're going to
some retreat for those who want to stay 'pure'." Bree practically spat the word out. "They're Monks
and they live in a big sealed bubble so that the outside doesn't get inside." He cocked his head to one
side as he said it. No matter how he tried he couldn't actually find a spin to put on it that didn't irritate
him.
Tol jiggled the vials around some more so he sounded busy, "What's wrong with the outside?"
Bree shook his head, "It's not pure. It gets in the way of them being all...Monk like. No, there's no
outside influences for them. Just dirt, them and some other vegetables." He snorted.
"Then why are we going?" Carol asked partly out of curiosity and partly as a distraction. She needed to
find something to busy herself with so that if Bree's mood didn't pan out well she wouldn't be given
something to do. Carol shuffled closer to some of the stowed away medical kits.
"Because the outside isn't staying where it should. And a Monk has died. He probably had a reaction."
Bree folded his arms, "Idiots. It's not at all surprising, the death that is. If you live in an environment
that's too sterile you end up mollycoddling your immune system. When it does encounter something
new it just goes berserk and then ..." The dour Doctor finished his explanation by making a suitably
unpleasant noise.
"Oh...that's not good." ventured Tol.
"Course it isn't..." Bree scowled distractedly at Tol, "It means I've got to go down there and perform an
autopsy."
"I see. That must be very difficult for you." Carol said evenly as she began checking the medical kits. It
looked like this might actually be quite a necessary job now Bree had filled them in.
"The procedure isn't. As I've mentioned before, I'm a good Doctor." Bree paused for a moment to bask
in his own ego before continuing. "I just don't fancy the idea of having various Monks poking their
noses over my shoulder and trying to make sure everything being done properly and according to their
beliefs."
Carol raised an eyebrow, and an objection, "They're perfectly entitled to have their beliefs."
"I never said they weren't." Bree narrowed his eyes at the Head Nurse, "But their beliefs aren't very
helpful when you happen to have your hands inside one of their recently departed. It makes being
efficient and diplomatic a little difficult."
"Really? I can't imagine you ever having difficulty with workplace diplomacy." Tol regretted the words
the moment they left his mouth. Sarcasm probably wasn't the best idea considering Bree's mood.
"Thank you for volunteering to steam wash all of the surgical equipment piece by piece." A thin smile
had crept it's way onto Bree's face. "I know, you could use the automated steriliser to get it all done in
half an hour but..."
"You don't trust it?"
"No, I just don't like you." Bree slid off the bio-bed and added, "Oh, and Nurse? I want you to sterilise
all the equipment I'll be taking down to the Monk's colony. I mean all of it as well. I don't want any
complaints about the purity of my equipment."
"Nobody wants complaints like that." Tol shrugged as he said it. He had already been given the
majority of the mind numbing labour. He had nothing to lose.
Bree let the comment pass as he headed to his office.
"Doctor?" Carol called after him, "Do I get to use the auto-steriliser?"
"No." came the muffled reply from the office. "Nobody but me gets to use it."
=/\= SB BoB Darkside =/\=
A plume of white smoke trellished into the air. With the darkness, it was only thing visible with the
exception of his eyes. Dhillon had been keeping to the shadows since his arrival back on BoB with the
crew of The Pookah. It had been a few weeks now, and he had so far stayed off radar. He preferred it
for the time being, since he had no idea whether that ex-wife of his had polluted BoB minds with her
vicious poison about him.
There was an orange spark as the nicotine burned. That was what it was. He was having a dry day.
Dhillon was scraping the yarn to see whether he could score the next dose of the evil weed. His craft,
Gerty, was anchored into the freight deck. As of yet no one had twigged. Though he had a sneaking
suspicion that soon people would know about what had come to pass between him and her, and then
his life wouldn't be worth living.
His arms ached. Ached to hold his son again.
Suraj.
A smile momentarily danced at his lips.
How he longed, yearned, thirsted for his little boy to be in his arms again.
It was amazing, and it never ceased to surprise him. How chaos and confusion could reign so supreme
on BoB. Ths was why he had ditched Desdemona, and gone to earth. This was no place to raise the
boy. Yet the ex-wife had returned here, and his son had followed. He didn't care much for her
anymore, the ex-wife. She had become a figure of disdain to him.
A liar. A cheat. A murdress and a whore. There were other names for girls like her, and not one of them
was nice.
He had to tell them. Tell them here on BoB that she was nought but a fraud. That their precious
Arihana was a deceitful cretinous creature who deserved not their love, but their contempt. How could
they look her in the eye? After what she had done. How could they trust her, take her advice?
She who helped the vulnerable, acted as balm to the pains. Arihana was a fraud.
Could they not see that?
That behind the doey eyed innocence was a villianous, heinous soul?
He often wondered. With the exception of Suraj, what exactly did they have to bind them together?
Then there was the child. The one that she had killed to spite him.
He had found out. That whilst she had been happy with Nick, there was that one thing that had elluded
her. The one thing that would have been the cherry on the cake.
Dhillon smiled as he slowly trudged through the crowds of confused.
She had miscarried twice. Or once at least, the other had been a still birth. Dhillon felt it was poetic
justice of some warped definition. That since she killed one daughter, two could be robbed from her by
the universe by way of retribution. He held Nick no spite, the poor chap. Just her and her wicked ways.
He had been sleeping in Gerty for the most part. Soon he had would have to get some digs. Be a
presence again, if he didn't get decked first. There were all those people to get re-acquainted with. The
CO, nice girl, but not within his luck limit. Baxter, he was still around, he hoped. As long as he didn't
meet that marine.
Dhillon kicked something out his way. A dog or something. It yelped.
Nope. That would probably send him to drink for days. That marine and him. They just didn't get on.
Because of her. The ex-wife. For every one Vaughan, the hero, there was always ten of Dhillon the antihero. Even now, Dhillon could feel his blood swell. What hope did anyone have, if the girls on this tin
vouched for the likes of the marines.
He wasn't going to live in hope. On this place. You'd be hard pressed to find any. Then again, as Dhillon
passed down the lower recesses, he knew where there may be some. All he had to do was pay for it.
****
And so he did.
As he left the ramshackle apartments that only the dire and desperate visited, Dhillon felt refreshed.
The boy was back. And soon. BoB would know all about it.
****
The figure couldn't have been very old. The young, unblemished flesh was now soiled. She had left
behind her the life of innocence and textbooks of school. A novice at the universtity of life, she just had
her first serious tutorial. And how she wished she hadn't.
With shaking hands, fresh skin under her nails, she made it to the bathroom.
The shower head cascaded down into the tray as she sat down. In her hand the razor blade glinted. It
pressed into the skin and through the tendons. Soon the tray was full. A choatic concoction. Blood and
water.
She exhaled her last. with no dignity, like the first. It hadn't taken long.
Dhillon Havane had claimed his second victim. His first victim. She had walked into the sunset. This one
wouldn't see the next day.
=Ops Deck 4, USS Caledonia=
Evar Carsin played back the comm message for Sandrik. The Bajoran shook his head. "You are going to
be in SUCH trouble if the Ops Queen ever finds out," he said.
"I didn't know she had an aunt," Carsin said.
"I'm sure she has an aunt. I'm also sure she has other relatives as well. I just didn't know she had an
aunt who was a Starfleet admiral. By the Prophets, Evar, this was a transmission to and from Starfleet
command, which means it was on a confidential channel. WHAT were you thinking?"
"I was bored," Carsin replied. "Bored waiting for the next mission and the next opportunity for the Ops
Queen to raise her voice. "I've also been having some fun intercepting mission briefings to Myers."
"WHAT?" Sandrik hissed. "You're out of your MIND."
"I'm also the communications specialist on this ship." Carsin grinned.
There were footfalls. The two-man ops crew tried to look busy as Zerin strode in.
"Sandrik. Good news. You're going to be part of this Brotherhood of Po mission," she explained. "I'm
going to beam down with Myers and Conley first. Then we're bringing you down to help with the ops
systems. And Carsin? You're going to have ops duties while I'm gone."
"Yes'm," Carsin said blankly.
Zerin walked up to Sandrik and handed him a padd. "Here are some further mission notes on these
people."
Sandrik took the padd and looked at some pictures of the Brotherhood of Po.
"This could be just a boring mission with boring people," Zerin explained. "I mean, it's a bunch of
monks living in a big bubble."
"That does sound dull," Sandrik replied.
"Needless to say, our missions have been anything but dull. However, there is always a first time for
everything. Right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You have orders. Have fun." She walked out.
Carsin looked at Sandrik with a grin that was positively malevolent. Sandrik winced.
"Evar, you aren't planning anything, well, nefarious, are you? Something that'll hurt the Caly?"
"Oh no, I've got something different in mind," Carsin told him. "Our department--hell, probably the
whole ship--will be better for it. I've got an idea to get Zerin Fell off the Caly."
Sandrik waited for the inevitable "MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!" but it didn't come.
=^= Somewhere, Somewhere closer =^=
The doctor was completly lost after a call in engineering he had turn right probably too many time
sand not enough left or was it the contrary He decided to wander and help any people that he could
hear in distress. He had swallow some pills, the wrong pills which change his voice completly. He knew
they waren't bad for his health since they're usually seal but find it funny to have a deeper voice then
usual. As he was walking he walk rigth into a woman, since he walk his hand in front and by mistake of
course had deducted as such...
"I beg your pardon" he apologised with a smirk that she couldn't see.
"I should hope so too, get off!" The shrill response was followed by a slapped wrist.
"Ouch" his tone was mischevous "It hurt" with a huge grin.
"You all right, Doctor?" Smiled the counsellor as she came into view. She held a bright blue glow stick,
that made the reflective stripes on her uniform look pearlescent.
"I'm better now, sorry again for this but with little light a man as to make sure not to get head first in
the wall"
"You really should keep your hands to yourself," Arihana poked his arm, it was playful, rather than
malicious. "Unless otherwise requested, of course. You hovering around as well?" she asked holding
the glow stick up like Psyche.
"Your wish is my command..." he smile "you seem to have fun"
"Yes, I really get off in being in the dark with a coupla thousand men," she replied with a tut. "I don't
know, it's just the lights that have gone out. I don't know much more, I'm afraid. Shall we take walk,
Francois?"
"Sure not like there anything else to do " he put his hand forward.
"I am not holding your hand," Arihana shook her head. "You're a grown man, I don't think for a
moment, that you're afraid of the dark. Where you been, long time no see. I've not been insulted in
ages. Having withdrawal symptoms."
He was amaze by the number of subject she touch in a fraction second "being polite, fine and true, but
that can be change.." looking to see if he had touch every question.
"I'm joking, mate," Arihana added nervously. "I know you're all always nice, and don't mean to be
rude. There's a bit of deadpan English stuff going on there. My profuse apologies," she arched a brow,
half wondering what she could say without putting her foot in it.
"That's fine, I grab yours , you slap me, consider equal" he had the best part of the deal, he smirk.
"We've had our ups and downs," she shrugged in the hue of the glow stick. "If I was nice to everyone
all the time, and people were nice to me,. It would be seriously boring, and I would have to think about
causing some suitable trouble."
"That the Dharma I know, always the trouble make.r"
"Being as nice as pie, it bores me," Arihana replied. "I'd much rather have drama, chaos, confusion. A
bit of passion on the side, and I'm anyones," she added with a wink.
"The station wouldn't be the same without you, for my part I do occasionnally get bit bold, but then
again I'm a doctor, bold mean operations or nakedness. Pick your choice.." he wink back.
Arihana pulled a face, "Did you have to mention the nakedness?" she asked, "I'm gonna be stuck with
that, for a very long time. Cheers for that."
"Well considering I been busy like crazy nakedness as been to a minimum but I'm looking for a bigger
challenge." he smile "You have anyone making your life chaotic?"
"Ah, well, yes, no, I dunno," She shrugged, it was pure honesty.
"I see" his voice was almost disapointed. " How his he?" trying to concentrate on the corridor again.
"Well, he aint a psychopath," Arihana replied. "That'ts bonus. Unfortunately for me, and for my
jealous, terrartorial streak, he's just a bit popular."
He burst laughing "A lovely lady like you, I wouldn't worry"
"I have to compete with a whole universe of swooning, obsessed women," grumbled Arihana. "I don't
quite know how I plan to cope with that. God, it's dark. I feel like I'm the video for 'Thriller'."
"Or in Depcon 5 the return, special unit in the underground experimental lab."
"So, if you've postponed the whole nakedness thing," Arihana shook her glow stick a moment. "That
mean the triplets are having a rest, or you bored and want to do some proper work for a change."
"Proper work?" almost curious to go further but decided to stick to the question.
"All work and no play," smiled the counsellor. "Would make our Francois a bit wearisome. Better to
get some play, Doctor. Makes a world of difference."
"Coming from you I would agree. Poor popular boy is going to have his hand full now.."
"You're going to get a slap," Arihana poked him with the glow stick. "Whatcha take me for? A loose
woman. No," she shook her head in well mannered disagreement. "With this new chap, taking a
slightly different tack. Take it as it comes, and have a good time. Do what I want to do, and as opposed
to what I should do. Enjoy it more."
"Live for the moment, with no regrets. That usually harder to do but then again your the one that as
the couselling degree, not me."
"I don't like it with the lights out," she sounded worried almost. "When it's light, you can see
everything. You've got plain sight. Yet in the dark," Arihana sounded almost anxious. There was that
vulnerable tone in her voice. "In the dark, you become weaker. You can see nothing, and you become
vulnerable to anything and everthing. Who knows what lurks in the dark, and what interminable evil
will happen."
He was surprised by her statement "Dark is also the lack of chaos. The lack of anything for that matter,
find it rather relaxing."
"This could be like a ghost story," Arihana recovered herself quickly, shining the glow stick under her
chin. "Wooo---hooooooo" she squirrelled as though the corridor was that of a haunted mansion. "Walk
on....walk on...."she continued in ghoulish tones, "With hope in your heart....."
He look at her amused "Never a dull moment with you, That what I appreciate" he give her a little
nudge.
Arihana shrieked, howled with laughter. She was actually enjoying this a bit too much. Then she
yelped, and scurried towards the wall.
"What wrong?"
"What was that?" she asked, her tone quivering.
"What was what?"" now trying to see something. "Was it big?"
"Rat!" she called, pulling Francois towards her by the shoulder to act as a shield. She pointed with a
finger towards the squeaky rodent that had no doubt escaped. "Pants, I left my bat at home. Could
have killed the blighter, probably from the pet shop. You take the tail, and I'll stamp on it."
"A rat. A rat...Watch out, the station is in danger." He smirked and became serious again as he saw the
counsellor face.
"It's a rodent, a vile creature,"Arihana returned, "It's getting away."
"Want me to take care of it, hey" he walk forward "Ratty, rattttyyyyy come on bud, come to
daddyyyyy"
"Francois, the blighter escaped!" she was somewhat infuriated to cuff his shoulder. "Could have
smacked it."
"I'm a doctor I don't kill" he couldn't hold it in and started to laugh.
"Yeah, but I do, and no messin'," replied Arihana, having smacked a fair few when back on earth all
that time ago.
"I'll be your knight in shinnning armour, just stay close to me and will get through this" he smiled "
One step at a time and promise that if I see one more alien rat, BOOOOOMMMMMMM, I'll blow it off
this station."
"Oooh, I'm scared," Arihana said in a mocking tone. "I'm everyones favourite damsel in distress, me.
You ready to be Rentokil wi' bells on."
"At your service madam. Well I have many talents but killing rat is not my area of expertise but look
like fun." he gave her a grin.
"Don't think there's anymore," she looked around with the glow stick. "There better not be, I might
have to go a bit psycho and send them to the great rats nest in the sky."
He didn't respond, he decided to wait and see.
Arihanas' glow stick was starting to fade. "I'm gonna head back home, I also need to check on Suraj.
See what at all the kids are doing at school," she said shaking the stick to stir it.
"Alrigth, need to be escorted not that I think you can't handle yourself" made sure not to fall into the
trap twice.
"No, you carry on," she smiled, "I'll be fine. If I get home when I'm drunk and alone, this should be a
piece of cake in the dark."
"Then have some fun with mr. Rat" he smile
"I'll see you around then, be good," Arihana said edging away. "Kill anything, and I will know. Bysie
bye." She twirled her fingers in a wave and departed, shaking the glow stick alight to illuminate her
way.
The light was going away and he was in the complete dark again. He put his hand forward, this seem
to be the best way to go since he even got some bonus in the end.
=/\= SB BoB - Main Engineering =/\=
The main floor around the warp core was brightly lit - or at least as brightly lit as possible - with large
emergency spot-lights and halogen lamps.
The corners of the room were in shadow, but the main walkways were lit well enough.
Petty Officer Legend was waiting by the main doorway to meet Francois and Vivienne.
"Come with me, Doctor. You've got two patients now. We've had cascades of burn-outs and they've hit
several places."
"Lead the way, I'm right beside you if nothing happens..." gave him a smirk.
"First down there is Crewman Barry Sturgiss," Legend pointed to a man lying unconscious on the floor,
space cleared around him, his face and hands covered in burns. "The other is over there," he pointed
to a younger crewman, "Engineer Mikey Roberts. Burnt hands and upper torso."
The younger crewman was conscious and obviously in pain, but gritting his teeth and holding out.
"Alright" he move to the younger of the two and injected him with some pain killer in his leg. "That will
help you with the pain for now.
"Hell yeah, that's.. easier..." Crewman Roberts ground out. "Cheers, Doc."
"Don't thank me, thank the drug boy." He then made his way to the more injured officer.
"Vivianne will need the dermal regenerator and the laser scalpel, wipes and so sterile place" he look up
at Legend "I need some room to work, it going to be nasty"
Legend clicked his fingers and a support team of engineers raced over with a support stretched made
from a blanket and a couple of poles.
"Alright , give me a hand" Passing a blanket slowly underneath him to carry him "What exactly happen
and were am I the safest and the less in your way."
"He was trying to track a fried circuit, when suddenly there was an explosion - there must have been a
build-up behind the bulkhead. It impacted directly over him and hit him with molten bulkhead as well
as plasma burns. He's a tough bloke. He'll pull through"
Legend stood back - use the Chief Engineer's Office, that's empty at the moment and there's an
emergency lamp set up in there."
"Ok, bring the younger officer at that location in about fifteen, I need to make sure this one survive."
"Survive?" Legend looked shocked. "He'd better survive. He's a good mate and one of my best
engineers."
"The amount of damage to his skin it I'll have to peel the old one off before regenerating and I don't
know how much damage the major organ have taken"
"I'll need him back on duty as soon as possible," Legend said sharply. "If there's no damage to his
organs. I don't expect there is. Before he passed out he was talking quite coherently. Do you need
anything else, Doc?" Legend was looking at the work piling up behind him.
"I understand" he actually understood, making people better was good but sometime getting them by
was necessary. He started to cut the burn skin with his laser scalpel with that came some green pus
which was normal after a serious burn. As he tried to disinfect he could see the muscle reacting. He
had to induced some muscle but not to a point were they couldn't move, he was needed.
As he finish the disinfecting part he them use the dermal regenerator to seal and solve the open
wound issues. After two or three hours of work he seem ready to be wake up. As he open his eyes the
doctor spoke the first words "Hey there, I'm doctor Bonnenfant, relax. You've burn but nothing I
couldn't fix, you need to relax for a bit."
He made a sign for Vivianne to check on him and went to Legend "He'll be ready in a hour, just make
him take these pills every hour and make him and the junior there come and see me after this,
agreed?" It sounded more like a order then a question but didn't want to sound like a jerk either. He
understood the demand but wanted to do a serious follow up afterward.
"Sure thing, Doc. Cheers for that - great job," Legend looked weary but appreciative. "I'll get the junior
sent along right away, he's walking wounded so he can make his own way to the Infirmary and wait in
line."
"Excellent, thank you. I'll be on my way then, if anything happen call me" he put his hand forward
"Pleasure to have meet you Legend"
"Thanks, Doc, you're a star," Legend wiped a grubby hand on his coveralls before shaking the Doctor's.
As Francois left, Legend knelt down next to the recovering Sturgiss. "Alright mate? Just you rest up for
a bit. I'll get some water for you to take a pill and then you can have a time-out before you dive back
into the fray."
"Okay Chief," Sturgiss winced slightly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Those circuits aren't going to un-fry
by themselves."
=^= Dark corridor =^=
After is little walk with Dharma he decided to change and walk toward is left. he realise quickly that the
corridor were becoming easier to see until is saw spotlights. He just notice that he was now in the
marine deck. Strange how a few level and a few turn will bring you exactly to the only place you
shouldn't and didn't want to be. Life as a serious thing against the doctor, well he shouldn't say that he
could now brag about grabbing the counsellor...taking life by it horns or was it grabbing life by it tender
..He couldn't think of her like that she was after all a good friend with female attributes, firm
attributes.
As he was thinking about the wrong thing he saw a private going out of a room "Private, you might
assist me"
"How?" as he turn his face became serious even aggressive "What are doing here" answered Xavier.
"I'm the CMO here and look after the health of everyone so stop being such an ass and tell were your
superior is"
"F*ck you, you think because you have some rank that your suppose to impress me, I'm not mom or
dad, you weak, pathetic and irresponsible"
"And you're so perfect, I'm even surprise you made it this far, your a coward, stupid little fragile man"
"I could break every bone in your body, brother"
"Try, I will put my foot so up your ass you think your flying"
"No doctor or fleeter is strong enough to even try"
"Don't tell me you need a class in savoir vivre also"
Xavier took a few step forward, reality was he didn't saw is brother for many years but he doubted that
he would make any impression considering he was train to kill or to make suffer if need be. "Tu opense
vraiment que tu peux venir me faire chier ici, je vais t'en mettre plein la gueule"
Knowing that his brother would be more then happy to give him a good correction, he try the bluff
"You little shit head, you think that I spent the last year not learning about to make you swallow your
own shit. Got news for you body, I would be more then insane to break both your legs here..."
Xavier started to laugh "You were always the bitch, weren't you. No control"
François gave a smile "Did it work?"
"No, you speak well and your still a irresponsible arrogant basterd but your my bro"
"You still all muscle and no head but still I took all the marble from you"
"Until I punched you in the face and took them back, you crying and blood everywhere"
"Lucky punch" the doctor responded.
"Want me to try again?"
"Go" he place himself in a battle position.
"This will be fun" as Xavier walk slowly toward his brother examining his position "You guard is too
low"
"It's exactly were it should be" as he spoke he saw green, black and then felt a hand around his head.
"Yeah, I can see that" holding his brother in a head lock"
"Ok , let go. "As he release him he gave him a huge.
"Let me go before someone as the wrong idea..." embarrassed.
"How are you and welcome to BoB" he said relieved that his brother was after all friendly. He was
expecting more yelling and fighting.
"So they transferred me here to save your ass, doctor"
"No, they made sure I would keep you alive"
"Alive to save your life..." he smile.
"Will we argue all the time?" starting to be annoyed by it.
"You bet, I have at least six years to make up for"
"I see, since you seem to be aright I'll be on my way" taking a few steps toward a corridor.
"Brother, it that way" pointing toward the opposite direction.
Realising the fact, the doctor turn "Smart ass"
"Who's the dumb now, doctor"
As he pass close, he punch him down in his privates. Xavier almost kneel but show no pain in his face.
"Who's the fighter now"
He never saw the punch coming, it went black...As he open his eye his brother was on top of him "You
ok bro, it seem like you hit the corner there..."
"Real funny, how bad is it?"
"You'll live but need to treat the nose, but then again I'm not smart doctor. The wall fine"
"Get me up and on my way" as he put his hand forward.
"Sure thing" helping his brother up.
"Let's take a beer sometime" he wave goodbye with a large grin.
"Feck you, let me know when your available" still holding his nose, little shit head, he would regret this.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
It was evening by the time Mulder sat down to do her daily round-up, although what with everything
being so damn dark it had felt like evening all day.
"What's the latest?" she murmured as she pulled the pile of Padds towards her.
The medical logs were of foremost priority - still a steady stream of minor injuries due to things going
bump in the night. Most of the things going bump were various crewmembers. Ah well, it wouldn't last
forever. Engineering seemed to be faring particularly badly, although she supposed that was to be
expected.
The number of plasma burns seemed extraordinarily high though, and she reached for the reports by
Petty Officer Legend. The trouble seemed to be that tracing the burn out circuits was one thing, but as
soon as they started work on them there were unexpected resurgences. Legend had decreed that in
future, the circuits were treated as live, no matter how destroyed they appeared, and rendered dead
before any work started.
It would cut down on the injuries, but slow down the repair time. They were now saying up to seventytwo hours before lighting was restored. She sighed, "I'm going to turn into a mole at this rate."
Operations was barely keeping pace with the smaller repairs - working double shifts to cope with a lot
of the items that engineering staff would normally attend to. She sympathised, but as problems went
things could be worse, and usually were. This was a picnic by comparison.
Then there was the work that the flight crew were doing. Quide had just about managed to get the
current batch of ships docked, but there were more arriving all the time, as was normal for the
starbase that was fondly known at The Restroom at the End of the Universe.
And thinking of Quide... she needed to let him know that systems were go for his sojourn out to Breen
space. That would leave just Crewman Reeds to handle things this end. Unless Ensign O'Rourke was
recovered yet?
Reaching for the commconsole she checked the whereabouts of the US McCoy, which was currently
housing the injured O'Rourke. Yes, they were within travelling distance. She tapped her commbadge,
"Petty officer Tyner - get in here."
It took barely seconds for the Yeoman to nip across the walkway and appear in her office. "You wanted
to see me, Captain?"
"Yes. Put a call through to the USS McCoy. Give them my regards and ask how Ensign O'Rourke is
doing. If he's well enough to return to duty, ask them to drop him off here as soon as possible. We're
going to need an extra pair of hands real soon."
"Aye, ma'am, will do," the conscientious yeoman departed.
So that left.. well, the marines were under Szabo's care with Vaughan still advising, so that was one
area she didn't need to worry about. Although the Breen issue *did* worry her. What the hell was
going on out there? She pushed the thought firmly away - sufficient unto the day. They'd know soon
enough.
She next checked the security reports, and couldn't help but grin. Baxter was most innovative in his
patrol assignments, and with security flooding all the different areas it would be a foolish petty thief
who tries to get away with any pilfering under cover of darkness. Counsellor Dharma was out and
about too, and Mulder knew that between them they'd cover all bases.
So that was that. As she sat back and signed of the last report, her commconsole bleeped and she
squinted at the screen, which had been flickering annoyingly for the last hour. It seemed to be a
communication advising that anew officer was being assigned to BoB.. but the name was obscured by a
perpetual flicker in the transcript, and so was the department. She thumped the commconsole screen,
and it promptly blacked out.
"Dammit," she sighed, re-activating it. It sulked back into life, but the message was gone, presumably
wiped in a moment of cyber-spite by the computer. Never mind. If there was indeed a new officer on
the way then he, she or it would get here regardless.
Standing up, she stretched and realised that she was hungry - it had been hours since the last meal.
Doubting that Cade would have finished his won business yet, she thought she'd pop down to pick up a
sandwich at Pigs for now, and stroll along to the Arboretum and spend a little time with Snookums,
and then go for a run with Sherlock as the little foxhound would be looking to stretch his legs.
She'd need a torch in a headband, of course, to light her way as she pounded the dark passages.
Then she gave an involuntary little shiver. Why did the thought of the darkness seem so unappealing all
of a sudden?
=/\= Deck 124, Marine Barracks =/\=
Under the glare of floodlights, the parade ground looked like the setting of a low-grade action movie.
Piles of equipment we set just at the edge of the curtain of light, barely visible in the gloom beyond.
The Nomads themselves were drawn up into parade formation, leaving gaps where fallen comrades
had once stood in the teams. It wasn't the exact setting that Cade had envisioned for a change of
command ceremony, but then again, he hadn't ever thought that he'd get relieved of command. Part
of him had hoped that HQ would continue to let him have an independant command for as long as he
wanted. He should have known better.
He turned his head slightly to look at his replacement. Grudgingly, he had to admit that if he couldn't
command the Nomads, then a Marine of Szabo's character would have been his choice for CO. That
fact didn't make it any easier, though. He'd already given his good-by speech. Short and to the point in
typical Vaughan-fashion, Cade hadn't dwelled on any what-might-of-beens, just his pride having been
able to lead the group for an 'all too short' time.
As part of the ceremony, he and Szabo had agreed to incorporate an awards ceremony that Cade had
been remiss in planning. To his defense, though, most of the Marines getting medals had just been
released from the various infimaries that had been treating them. Nearly the entire unit had gotten
some type of award, from purple hearts aplenty to a few platinum crosses. Cade suppressed a grin at
the fit that Caz would have had seeing Frost get recognized for saving Tennant's life and assisting
Drexer and Var with the medic duties. Several other awards were greatly deserved though, including
Canowicakte's rank conversion to Sergeant Major from Master Gunnery Sergeant now that he was fully
cleared for combat operations. Cade kept his face stoic as he stood back and watched Szabo pin on the
next-to-last medal.
Roman looked over at Cade and received a nod in return after sending Ecclestone back into line with a
brand new purple heart affized to his tunic. Cade handed a blue velvet box to Roman who accepted it
and stepped back to the podium. "Staff Sergeant Avner Richter," he called.
Avi stepped out of line and walked, with a pronounced limp, up to the front of the parade formation.
He stopped and stood at stock-still attention.
Roman nodded to him. "During the defense of New London, Staff Sergeant Avner Richter, on detached
duty to Marine Expeditionary Detachment Nomad from the New Galilee Defense Force, distinguished
himself not only during the night-time combat, but during the daylight hours of rest and refit as well.
Staff Sergeant Richter's leadership of his half-team was instrumental in maintaining the integrity of the
battle line during the First Night of battle. Despite wounds that would eventually cost him an eye and
three fingers, he refused to seek medical attention, instead directing the combat medic's to other
wounded personnel. This refusal was only put to end after being caught in the blast zone of a
thermobaric rocket, which rendered him unconscious."
Avi's face didn't change at all during the reading of the citation. Half of what Lieutenant Szabo had just
read off, he didn't remember. A side effect of having his brain swell and press against the inside of his
skull, Dr. Bonnenfant had told him.
"For his actions during the Defense of New London," Roman said, raising the volume of his voice
slightly, "Staff Sergeant Avner Richter is Discharged Honorably from the New Galilee Defense Force and
commissioned a Second Lieutenant of the Starfleet Marine Corps." Roman snapped open the velvet
box as Cade stepped forward. Vaughan popped off the Staff Sergeant tabs from Avi's collar and smiled
at him before stepping back. Szabo stepped up and slotted the gold Lieutenant's bars onto his uniform.
He then stepped back and saluted Avi. After returning the salute, Roman smiled warmly and shook his
hand. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, Lieutenant."
Cade stepped up and shook his hand next. "The Marines are lucky to get you, Lieutenant Richter.
Congratulations."
"Thank you, sir," Avi said, and for the first time, not being able to hide the smile. It dimmed slightly as
he thought that the only thing that would make the moment better was if Allie had been here to
witness it.
Roman dismissed him and Avi took his place back in the front rank next to Gideon. "Now then," the
new Nomad CO said with a hard tone, "all of this is well and good, but we've got a mission to perform.
Including myself, twenty Marines will be embarking on the Greased Lightning in the morning. Briefing
will be done enroute. This is code-word classified."
Roman stepped out and around the podium to stand in front of the Nomads, feet firmly planted a
shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind his back. "Due to the nature of this mission and the
recent losses this unit has suffered, I will not be taking any teams as a whole. Those Marines selected
have been so at the recommendation of Lieutenant Colonel Vaughan and will be notified tonight, so I
suggest that everyone who is able-bodied and has been cleared for full duty pack their gear."
He paused and swiveled his head from side to side to take in the whole group. "Lieutenant Richter will
assume the post of Operations Officer for the unit, making him second in command until such time as
an Executive Officer is appointed. He will command the remainder of the unit in my absence and assist
Captain Mulder with the current situation on this station."
He drew himself to attention and executed a picture-perfect about-face before saluting. "Lieutenant
Colonel Vaughan, request permission to dismiss the assembly."
Cade returned the salute just as sharply. "Permission granted."
Roman spun back around. "Sar'Major!"
"Sir!"
"Dismiss the assembly."
"Sir!" Gideon saluted and spun around. "NOMADS! Dissss- MISSED!"
As the Nomads filtered away, the Parade Ground was soon left with only four individuals: Vaughan,
Szabo, Richter, and Canowicakte; the group responsible both for the rejuvenated Nomads and the
unit's future. Cade shook hands all around again. "All of you, congratulations on your assignments and
the recognition. I'm proud to have been a Nomad."
"You better write, Colonel," Avi said with a smile and gave his former CO a brief hug.
"I will."
"So, what does the future hold for you, sir," Gideon asked as he lit up one of his ever-present,
unfiltered Pall Malls.
"A nice comfortable ride back to Earth on Dr. Mol's ship and, hopefully, a new arm before Halloween."
He shook hands with Szabo again. "Take care of my kids, Lieutenant."
"As if they were my own, Colonel."
"They are, now," Avi said with a smirk on his face, drawing a mild chuckle from the other three.
"True, you are officially now Nomad Actual, Nomad 6, Praetorian 6, or whatever radio call-sign you
want to use," Cade replied with a smile.
Szabo looked from Cade to Avi. "I think Lieutenant Richter has earned the right to command the
Praetorians here. I'll take a different team." Canowicakte blew a cloud of smoke through his nose and
nodded his approval at the choice. Avi beamed again at what he considered an even bigger honor than
the commission.
Cade smiled and clasped everyone's hands for the last time. "Godspeed," he said simply and walked
away, disappearing from view as soon as he stepped beyond the circle of light.
The three remaining were quiet for a moment before Canowicakte asked, "Ell-tee, are you sure about
the mission team? That's a lot of newbie going into harm's way."
Szabo nodded and started walking, leading them towards his office. "I know their qualities as well as
their files. Beaudreaux has a good head in a fight, so he'll get his own fireteam. Simm can fill the gap in
the recon team. Sasaki and Fidoe can be the security for Sergeant Kane's sharpshooters. Bonnenfant
will get a slot with Staff Sergeant Cash. You vouched for everyone else, Sergeant Major."
"Aye, sir, that I did. And as much as it pains me to admit it, Frost and her buddies are the best we've
got at the sneek'n'peek. I'll keep her on a short leash, though."
Szabo shook his head. "No need. Let her run. If she performs half as well as she seems to think she is,
then she'll probably come out of this with Lance Corporal's stripes again."
"And if she doesn't," Avi asked quietly.
Szabo looked over his shoulder at him and replied coldly, "Then her corpse gets left behind on the field
of battle."
Richter and Canowicakte let Szabo get a few steps in front of them before sharing a look that said it all.
Szabo's leadership was going to be radically different than Vaughan's.
=/\= SB BoB Outside Chez Dharma =/\=
"There's a good kid, Kiwi," Arihana was knelt next to the sheepdog, and stroked his glossy white and
black coat. The only curious thing about Kiwi Dharma was that fact that he had a headbant resting
behind his floppy ears. Attached to the headband were two springs that jutted out parallel to one
another.At the end of the spings were two glowing spheres.
"Come by then, woof," his owner said patting the side of her leg, she too had this ridiculous looking
headband on. It kept her hair from her eyes.
Kiwi followed obediently at heel. He had been scampering out the Dharma rooms for some time now
and had worn away the doors as a hint. His owner was taking no risks. She wasn't afraid of the dark per
se, more of what it harboured. Kiwi was better than a kick in the teeth. She had checked on the kids,
they were okay. Ensconced in the school gym, with some counselling bodies keeping an eye.
Arihana was winding her way towards the promenade. She had particular purpose in mind. She would
loiter around. From time to time, she would get the occasional call from Avril.
Kiwi pricked his ears as he heard Dharma's pocket vibrate. Dharma simpley threaded her hand into her
pocket and retrieved the mobile she had in there. It was archaic, but it existed for a reason. There were
a hundred and one ways of getting in touch with her. The counselling hotline, comms channels far and
wide.
All perfectly above board.
Then there was this.
"Devon. Do you know how much it costs me to get someones' legs broken," she said to her brother. "I
have to find the right people. Get it planned. See where breakages can be carried out."
Arihana listened. Listened to what Devon was telling her. Kiwi stopped as Arihana had.
"I see. Since you put it like that. What would like?" Arihana anticipated the response, and carried on
walking. "Knee capping, that's half a grand, yes, carry on. Doping the med facilities, that's...erm, lemme
see, two and a half, yeah, carry on. Sabotage the post operative, tch," she whistled through her teeth.
"Lemme see, all in all, you're looking at about eight and half grand."
Kiwi pranced along like a show pony.
"Yes, dear, I know it's Lila. I empathise," Arihana nodded as she spoke. "If someone did that Suraj, I'd
want to knee cap them too. Didn't I tell you what happened in the...yes, dear, I'll sort it. It's cheaper to
do the whole sleepin' wi' the fishes, you know," she ventured.
The dog pricked up an ear to see what the other human was saying, although to him it was just a noise.
"Sweetie, listen, I got another call, blimey I'm popular today, this don't normaly ring,"Arihana held the
'phone away from her ear a moment, before returning it. "Devon. Schup. I will see it is done. One
kneecapping, operative sabotage, and post op damage limitation. You happy? All right, t'ra."
Arihana sighed as she wove towards the far end of the promenade and arrived at Prologue.
"Stay here, woof," Arihana bent to tie up the do outside. The 'phone still pressed to her ear as she
looked inside the door. She did this from time to time, hoping that Dwayne wasn't about. She looked
from left to right.
"Hello, Dharma," she spoke in a whisper into the 'phone. "D'you get it?" she asked, her eyes scanning
the history section. "What in the name of blazes do I pay you for, Eugene, it's not the bloomin' Pink
Panther!" Arihana dipped her tone to arrive at British History.
"Yes, I know the stories, you mindless minion," she hissed as her index finger traced the clutch of books
to stop at a book. "If you believe the stories, if I possess it, I'll be dead by thirty." Arihana tapped the
spine of the book she wanted. "But I don't. What's the last bid? Three point seven."
Arihana took the 'phone from her ear a moment and depressed hold. Taking the Almanac in her hands,
she juggled it from her knees to her hip, trying to find her bookmark. If Dwayne knew she was cheating
him of profits and using his shop as library, there would be trouble. She was up to the Princes in the
Tower.
Pressing hold, she held the 'phone to her ear again. "Make it four, and an old English penny. Yeah,
that's right. I'm authorising you to do it, and do it with bells on. This is my Koh-I-Noor. I want it, and
want it set in platignum."
There was chatter from the othe end. Eugene was one of the many colonials that were scattered
across the universe. She just happened to be based in Sothebys in the middle of a Gems Symposium.
"The Crimson Tide is more than just a gem, Eugene," Arihana whispered it as she read the paragraph in
the history book. "The one who can tame it, is blessed with the wisdom and fairness of both Solomon
and King Minos combined. I want it. Get it to me. Do it," she looked around, "or die."
There was silence the other end.
"And whilst I'm on the whole punititive justice thing. I need a kneecapping. I'll call you. Don't call me."
She snapped the 'phone shut first, then the book. A silver metal bookmark positioned betweeen the
leaves.
Carefully, Arihana slide the text, 'The Kings and Queens of England' into the shelf again. She had read it
as a kid in history lessons. In electronic form, the pages meant so much more. It made her heart beat
faster to caress the covers, and inhale the earthy smell from the leaves. There was something in the
pages, the drama, the romance, the passion of England that surpassed all Hollywood Blockbusters.
Were it not for her job, she would stay there and read it to her hearts weary content. She could buy it,
that would also be sensisble.
But that was easy. Way too easy. She was Arihana. Arihana liked making things hard for herself.
Glancing around the shelves, Arihana left as serriptitiously as she had come in.
"Come by then, woof," Arihana patted her leg again as she untied Kiwi. Back to the grind it was then.
***
And he watched her. Watched her walk. How he hated her. It was as though she was killing him softly.
She needed to be taught a lesson.
=/\= SB BoB - Marine Deck =/\=
Angel Frost was smiling. Admittedly, on her it was a smug, self-satisfied smile, but a smile nonetheless.
She touched her Platinum Cross medal and felt suitably vindicated, especially as she gave little glances
at Tennant and Ecclestone's Purple Hearts. She'd been the Saviour, they'd been the wounded - it made
her feel rather good about life.
It was an odd atmosphere, the poignancy of the missing spaces and the finality of the handover when
Colonel Vaughan officially retired. Angel had mixed feelings about that. Vaughan had been one
hundred per cent marine, and she couldn't fault him on his battle skills. True, he had demoted her - but
that had only been because he'd fallen prey to the influence of that evil witch Mulder. Men were
foolish like that sometimes, fortunately it wasn't a weakness she herself was afflicted by.
Of course, the fact that she's actually been demoted as a punishment for trashing Gigi Gomez's
quarters out of spite after an argument with security didn't factor into her calculations at all. And even
if she'd known that Captain Mulder hadn't had any say whatsoever in the decision, she probably
wouldn't have believed it. Angel thought it was so, and therefore it was fact in Angel's World.
Still, if they had to lose Vaughan, she supposed that Szabo was a far better replacement than anyone
could have hoped for. He had the presence and the reputation of being a real-deal old school marine,
and Angel was cautiously optimistic. She would make her final judgement once she saw him in action,
of course. She never trusted hype..
"Alright, Frost?" Davey Tennant gave a chirpy smile as he fell into step beside her, his chest puffed out
a little as he glanced down at his Purple Heart.
Ecclestone lumbered up alongside him, "Good deal, yeah? Shame about the Colonel - top bloke. But
hey - Szabo - can't complain, eh?"
"Yeah, shame Pertwee didn't make it to get him," Tennant touched his medal. "Another good bloke."
"Maybe we'll get a replacement from the new babies?" Angel said casually, a little annoyed they
weren't admiring her own medal more..
At that, Tennant froze, and looked over his shoulder.
In the middle of the parade area, John-Boy Simm was standing alone, almost as if he knew he was
being talked about. He saw Tennant look in his direction and gave a knowing smirk. Tennant turned
abruptly away.
"What's up?" Angel wasn't one to miss a trick when it came to inter-unit antagonism.
Ecclestone murmured in her ear, "Bad blood from boot camp or summat. Tennant won't say."
Angel turned her gaze towards Davey, "Something we should know?"
The other marine shrugged, "Ahh, no, nothing important. but he's recon trained, I know that. Don't like
the bloke, but he's okay at his job.."
"Then maybe he'll get assigned to me," Angel said smugly. Even though she was the same rank as the
others now, she was still the self-styled team leader, and she never let the others forget it. It was good
news if the potential newbie and Tennant were enemies. Divide and conquer. That was there was no
danger they gang up on her. It was all good.
"SO what are you both doing loitering?" she demanded. "You heard the boss. All able-bodied to be
packed and ready for this mission, whatever it is."
"You reckon we'll be going then?" Ecclestone said casually.
"I hope so. And if we are, and we get the call, and you aren't packed - *how* stupid are you going to
feel?" Angel snipped at them.
"Well, yeah, I suppose you've got a point.. yeah.." Tennant said breezily. "Let's get ready."
Ecclestone ambled of after him and Angel followed at a slightly slower pace, casting a curious eye back
at the figure of Simm who was also departing, presumably to get ready. That was something she could
follow up for another day.
Her own preparations took very little time, as she was very conscientious about being ready for action.
There was a small smile hovering on her lips as she packed the newest piece of personal kit she'd
obtained - a medical kit. She'd assessed few the basic skills she'd learned from Doctor Conley and
obtained her own equipment.
She'd purchased her own dermal regenerator, and a basic but serviceable osteo-regenerator. She's
also obtained a few hyposprays and some anaesthetic. Not the medical-grade stuff they used in the
infirmary, but the strongest over-the-counter stuff you could buy for home use. But still, it was
anaesthetic and whoever received it should be bloody well grateful.
Then there was the pride of her collection - her tracheotomy kit. The sales assistant at the small
pharmacy dispenser on the lower promenade had raised an eye brow at that order, but it was perfectly
legitimate to buy, and latinum was latinum. Angel had obtained both a laser scalpel and an oldfashioned metal scalpel, the sort that Doctor Conley had taught her to use. She had to admit, she
rather enjoyed the feel of metal slicing flesh so she would probably use that if she had the chance to
put her skills to use. She'd added everything else as standard - sterile wipes, the tubing and the pump.
She was all set.
Of course, if anything went wrong then she could simply blame Doctor Conley for not teaching her
properly, so it was win-win as far as she was concerned. Mentally she composed a shopping list of the
things she must ask Conley to teach her when the Caledonia next came back. Plasma burns, definitely,
energy weapon injuries in more depth, and projectile missile damage. And amputation - definitely
amputation, that had to be on the list.
As she packed and secured the small kit away, she had a happy vision of maybe Szabo getting injured
and choking so she could slice neatly into his throat and insert the tube so precisely, and safe his life.
That would be perfect. being a hero was all well and good, but saving a hero's life got you brownie
points beyond measure.
With those cheerfully macabre thoughts filling her head, she continued to smile, and even sat on the
edge of her bunk in though, leaving the removing of her medal until the very last minute possible.
Yeah, shame about Vaughan - but life under Szabo, especially if she got to cut his throat and save his
life - could be a very optimistic prospect.
=^= Infirmary =^=
"You did what?"
"I know, it was by accident. Come on I'm not that perverted" answered the doctor.
"I am, for a touch of the counsellor package I would become alot of things" answered Mike across the
light.
"You would be call anything for a grasp of anything" said Vivianne working on the doctor nose "A metal
wall"
"Yop never saw it coming" François gave a smile.
"You manage to keep your arm up for her but not for the wall, question to be asked here"
"Lies to be answered also."
"I suspected as much. Just speaking as a woman here but you look like your closer to her"
"We're good colleagues, I think our relationship is pass blasting each other. We can actually joke
around which is nice"
"How were they?" mike interrupted.
"For god sake" said vivianne looking at the ceiling.
"Mike, it was an accident"
"Ok, it was an accident, I agree. Now, how were they?"
"You need to get laid my friend"
"I know, speak to her about it" pointing at vivianne.
"I'll died , and rot before I even have the idea of touching you".
"I saw how you look at me" Mike got up and took some model pose.
"Did you see me puking after?"
"Children, enough. We have work to do"
Vivianne got up and left with the just completed report for the new patients. As Mike got up he slowly
got closer to the doctor "How were they"
"Nice and firm..." not looking in his direction.
"Ahh...lucky man" he answered leaving the room.
Indeed he had is good and bad luck in the darkness. A mission he should go on again very soon. He felt
like Calupso, exploring the dark see of possibilities...
=/\= SB BoB - Darkside Decks =/\=
"Stay here," Gigi motioned Crewman Sodov to remain still, as she tapped the over-ride code into the
entry panel. "And hold that flashlight steady."
Ever since she'd lost her two best friends to the Ha'agen, her post-traumatic stress disorder had been
eating away at her. She'd managed to get a handle on it, to a degree. She'd stopped drinking so heavily
on Baxter's orders and she'd even thought about going to see the counsellor again.
But most of all, on duty, she never let anyone she worked with go first into a situation that had even
the lightest trace of danger about it. She'd lost Jetta Pascoe and Barry Trotter that way, and she wasn't
going to lose anyone else.
Crewman Sodov just shrugged and stood where he was told. The short, greasy-haired security crewer
was only recently returned to duty after his own injuries, and wasn't going to over-exert himself if
Gomez was willing to do the necessary.
Besides, there wasn't any danger in there. He knew that smell as well as Gigi did. Decomp. There
wouldn't be any fight from *that* particular inhabitant.
The door panel beeped and Gigi slid it open, her nose automatically wrinkling as the smell was stronger
now. She knew, too, what it signified.
It had been a routine call-out - neighbours of the young woman who had meagre quarters down in the
Darkside decks had realised that she wasn't around when they'd assembled to sort out emergency
lighting and a tea-making rota. And she hadn't answered her door - which was unlike her. Fearing she'd
fallen over in the dark they'd asked security to break in, hence Gigi and Sodov responding.
Motioning with her head that Sodov could now join her, Gigi advanced into the room, flashlight playing
over the dark walls as she called out. "Anyone here? This is security. Are you okay?" Even though she
knew it would be futile.
"Bathroom," Sodov queried.
"Yep," Gigi again nipped in front of him as she opened the door, where the smell was strongest. "Ah
crap," she exclaimed as she darted over to the shower cubicle.
Flinging the curtain aside, she revealed the cold dead body of a young woman, the damage to her
wrists all to evident and the razor blade still gleaming dully in a puddle of congealed blood. Taking a
pulse was automatic and as futile as expected. Sodov ran a tricorder scan for any last traces of lifesigns,
but shook his head in the dark. "She's a gonner sure enough."
"Suicide?" Gigi asked rhetorically. It looked that way, but she'd know more after she'd called in the
medics. Tapping her commbadge she spoke to the Infirmary. "This is Crewman Gomez. We gotta dead
body down on Darkside, unit number 271. Looks like suicide but we'll secure the area until you guys
get here."
A nurse acknowledged that she would tell Doctor Bonnenfant immediately, and Gigi closed the comm.
"Sodov, get out there and seal off the entrance. The help me run a forensic sweep. Doubt we'll find
anything out of the ordinary, but gotta do what we gotta do. The poor chica deserves it. Who's wanna
take their own life, huh?"
As Sodov set about his tasks, her own words had hit a chord within her. She had contemplated suicide
more than once over the past couple of months. But seeing it up close and personal, that was
different. maybe she'd think about it again, but not today. She had her work to do. At least that kept
her going.
Setting her own tricorder to record the scene and catalogue every ounce of trace evidence, she
checked for a moment and then called Mulder to tell her about the demise.
"^Sorry to hear that. You think suicide?"^ the CO's voce came back.
"Ninety five per cent certain, Captain. I'll know more once Doc Bonnenfant has done an autopsy."
^"Keep me informed. It seems like the darkness has claimed it's first victim."^
Mulder pondered on the possibility of people being so deprived of light that they would take their own
lives. That was crazy though - it had only been twelve hours. With a sigh, she reached out a hand to
comm engineering again. There must be another update due soon...
=^= BoB - Unit 271 =^=
The doctor arrive promptly with a flashlight to the designated unit as he came to the door he saw the
tape which meant that the person was indeed dead. When the nurse told him about the request he
was in surgery and had little time to ask what it was about. The door open and he let a big "Hello?!?"
"Come on in, Doc," Gigi's voice called from the darkened interior as Sodov scurried forwards and lifted
the tape.
"Making sure I'm not stepping on important clues, where is the body"
"Through here - bathroom," Gigi called.
As he saw Gigi there he put a huge grin "Hi there chica, you ok?"
"Holding up," she gave a small smile. "And here's your new patient, Doctor." She indicated the slumped
corpse.
His eye drop to the body of the young female "Any information? Age, familly?"
"No known family, according to the neighbours, so probably just a drifter. They take short leases, so all
we've got is a name - Malandra Dixon, last known living somewhere on Earth. She's got her age down
as 22 - too young to end up like this," Gigi sighed.
"Alrigth, I'll take it from here"
"Cheers, Doc. You can move her whenever you're ready, I've done all the preliminaries here," Gigi was
checking the information as she started moving away. "I'll write up my report and send it on to Bax and
the Captain."
"Ok, thanks, take care, and after this dark period will have to get some drink. He turn "Transport room,
beam me and the body to the infirmary lab 2"
As re-materialise he saw the same body but with more light. "Ok, computer start autopsy log of Female
Malandra Dixon, 22, human from earth."
He took glove and started the procedures "Victims seem in good shape, no blue or purple mark around
necks, wrist or feet but incision done to left wrist lead to early conclusion of suicide. "
"No head injuries, or he trauma, no scars on head either. Reading from the brain are normal and
indicated she had normal cerebral activity. Neck seem ok, bones and muscle in correct position and
seem adequate to hold the head weight. Shoulder and arms seem also unaffected, breast and high
torso show no sign of aggression recent on some rape."
"Equipment shows no heart failure or lung problem except by lack of blood which seem to be referring
to the wrist and suicide theory. Stomach is full and wait a minutes...Shit...Indian food...that the
worse...computer erase last comment. Victim ate normally and had a full meal of Indian food. now
moving to lower torso. The victim had recent sexual relation but again no force entry which lead to a
consensual relationship. Leg and feet are normal at this state."
"After examining the victim with no pertinent symptoms or situation." as he was removing his glove " I
concluded on a suicide, the victim being 22 years of age bring good question as why she would kill
herself but again she wasn't rape of made victim of violence as per the normal examination of this
autopsy. She open he major vein in the left hand and bleed to death. computer end log of autopsy of
Female Malandra Dixon.
He close the body and tried to leave her a decent shape out of respect for her. He the touch his badge
"Bonnenfant to captain I've finish the autopsy , wandering if you wanted a written report only or my
opinions as well."
^"That was quick work, Doctor. Thanks. Could you send the written report to my console, I'll access it
from here and read when I'm back in my office. In the meantime, what are your personal opinions?
Suicide or not?"^
"Suicide, too young to leave this world but I'm not the judge here..."
"Sad, but in a way it's a relief. Murder would be the *last* thing we need to cope with right now. Okay,
if you can store her, I'll get someone to make any enquiries about family back on Earth. Not a huge
priority right now, and I'm sure she'd understand. Thanks again."^
"Not a problem" As he step out of the office he realise that all the nurses peek at him, the all hated
autopsies since after all they were there to save them not examine their deaths.
=^= SB BoB - Dark corridor =^=
The doctor had to take some air, it was his routine thing after an autopsy. If not he would dream about
the bodies for days, he always found that a good walk and beer were good medication after those type
of situation. So he was off again in the dark, he had brought a glow stick which decided to crack and
stop working after ten minutes putting himself in the dark once again. He debated turning back to the
infirmary and filling the thousands of reports, well maybe not thousands but enough to putting him to
sleep.
After some thoughts he decided to continue and see what dark secret the station had for him. After
about fifteen minutes he turn in a corner and bump into another woman. he thank god for not putting
his hand forward and accidentally grab something that wasn't his. "I do apologise, my glow stick broke
about ten minutes ago."
"It's fine, I had none, so it partially my fault." she answered with a cheery voice.
"I'm François" he try to at least seem polite.
"Nicole" she answered quickly.
"Well Nicole, what are you up too?"
"Could ask you the same question."
"True, I was trying to change my mind with a walk" he answered hoping to have a answer back.
"I was trying to get back to my quarter"
"I see" he was hoping for more but then again why would she, she didn't know him.
"Have time to chat?" she ask.
"Sure, it's not like I'm needed or something." he started to laugh.
She pull him down and the crash on their bum. "So what are we talking about?"
"I have some problem with my boyfriend"
He was caught off guard "Well, I would be the worse person to speak too on this entire station. I'm a
freelancer, the type that don't stick"
"Your a man aren't you?"
"Of course, what's your point?" he ask almost insulted.
"Well, you'll get one some day that you'll follow till the end of time"
"Well, I don't think so, I'll be the wandering guy"
"Don't worry I predict it" she started to laugh
"Sure, whatever you say Nicole. So what up with your man?"
"We never agree on things, like we love each other but it always fighting for something"
"Ah the eternal fight of balance. Never had that personally being that I only get to see them one night
or two. You disagree on small issues or bigger problems?"
"On everything!!!" she seem very animate about that part "From what for diner to if will have kids"
"Ok....then your together because you love each other but have nothing in common"
"No, his a terrific lover"
"Ah" he almost choke on his own words. That made him feel like he should be reading some freaking
files and reports but instead the super doctor choose the walk, good going bud. "good for you!?" He
didn't know what he had to say.
"Thanks but can you help me?"
"Well sit down with him and communicated that your tired of fighting" Dharma would be proud of him,
a excellent piece of advice. Sound professional a bit dull but still very adequate, he felt like patting
himself on the back.
"But what if we fight about it"
"Fight because you want to talk?"
"Yes" he took a large breath " What if he start saying that I talk to much or if he decided that he want
to leave me?"
Now he was screwed, what could he answer to her, here my card and quarter number...That was quite
amusing but he realise that she was waiting for a answer "Then if he leave you for that it because he
doesn't care. If he argues tell him it's because you love him." another founded answer, wow this
counselling stuff was interesting.
"True, so any woman that could make it for you?'
"Beg your pardon?"
"Do you think you meant the right one?"
"Wow, this could make for a long conversation. So far I have a few friends, few colleagues, and allot of
work"
"Your lying, I use to work for investigation company, I know your lying"
"I have a few like a vulcan woman".
"Interesting but your sure she's the one?"
"The one? No, I have no lady ready to take that title"
"Yes, you do. I can feel it. You'll find it soon enough"
"Thanks there" getting up , hoping to sneak out "I have to go.
"Thanks for the advice."
"No problem" as he left he was feeling strange, what if the lady was on this station? Then again she
may just had giving some hint toward her and he wasn't fast enough to pick on it, after all he wasn't in
the other man type of relationship.
=/\= SB BoB Promenade =/\=
Kiwi was at heel still as he followed his mistress on her travels. She didn't seem to have a plan, other
than to wander around and encounter any would be distress. A fairly normal day at the office for one
Counsellor Dharma. Arihana was in need of a cup of tea, just to break up the monotony of stalking the
corridors as she will still on the promenade. It only took a few moments to pass into Cafe Rouge, Kiwi
waited outside patiently, as the counsellor procured herself a polystyrene cup of well brewed tea.
She looked ridiculous still, the illuminating headband still on her head. Such was not a good look for a
grown woman, better suited to a an incandescent five year old. Only needs must was the case in the
present situation.
"Madam CO!" She called the see the Captain. "A minute to catch up?" Arihana walked over and pulled
up a chair.
Mulder had just that moment wandered in, as Pigs had been full to bursting and this next snackerie
was a little less cramped. "Counsellor.." she took in the odd headgear. "Innovative," she murmured in
amusement. "I have something similar here," she pulled a large flexible band out of her pocket with a
flashlight fixture on the front, the sort that might have been used by emergency services.
"Now that," Arihana started, now feeling all together rather silly. "Is clever, and not something I would
therefore think of. At least we are still standing," she commented.
"Yep, we gotta stay vertical at least. I don't fancy breaking my ankle falling over the dog or
something."Mulder's eyes scanned the menu on the wall and she clicked her fingers, to summon a
waitress. Rank still had a bit of sway around the place. "Large latte please, no sugar, double - no make
that triple shot of espresso in it."
The waitress gave an amiable smile and pootled off the fetch the order. Mulder shrugged, "Not *quite*
as good as Pigs, but any coffee in a storm. Oh wait, we had that.." she rambled on, a little wired.
"Maybe I've had too many shots of espresso recently? I lose count."
"I'll stick w' me tea, thanks," replied the counsellor, pressing the teabag from her cup between two
fingers and dunking, it before lifting it out and hurling it onto a tray that passed in the hands of another
waitress. She wasn't going to pass comment on a caffeine junkie CO. That would only make her a
hypocrite.
Mulder sat herself down as the large frothing mug of coffee arrived and she accepted it with a smile,
burying her head in the scent so closely that she nearly ended up with froth on her nose. "That's
goood," he murmured. "So then counsellor - what's happening on your end of things? All quiet on the
very dark western front?"
"Not a lot actually," replied the counsellor, who set the cup down and herself at a table. "Tripping over
kids with broken legs, getting the station juniors to not be afraid of the dark. Bumping into Doctors
who think it's okay to cop a handful in the dark."
"What?" Mulder was more amused than scandalised. She knew that the Doctor and Dharma had a
volatile relationship at the best of times, and wasn't about to enquire too deeply. "I'm sure you put
him straight on the matter.."
"I'm not worried, he knows not to do it again, and it's an easy mistake to make in the dark." shrugged
Dharma. "He did get a slapped wrist for his trouble. Someone may be kind enough to give a torch, say
over a slap."
Kiwi decided that he didn't want to stand sentry, and chose to wheedle under the able and lay down at
his mistress' feet. His snout lay on his paws as he ordained forty winks.
Mulder took a large drink of her latte. "Damn but I'll be glad when it's all fixed. I'm getting
claustrophobia, I'm sure."
"Any news as to what this was all about?" she asked, waving her cup around before taking a sip from it.
"Best I can understand it, the last bolt of storm energy from the Expanse broke through our shields and
earthed itself into the lighting circuits. Thank goodness the other systems are all routed separately or
we'd have had to evacuate and that really would have been the final straw."
"Not like we can say it is a random bulb that's blown and replace it," commented the counsellor. "Bet it
will sorted in no time. As if having a creepy mini me dolly wasn't bad enough, darkness descends," she
shook her head to slurp tea.
"Yep, and it's taking it's toll," Mulder replied. "We had an apparent suicide on the lower decks - a
civilian - about eight hours ago." She was about to say more when her commbadge chirped.
^"Bonnenfant to captain I've finish the autopsy , wandering if you wanted a written report only or my
opinions as well."^
"That was quick work, Doctor. Thanks. Could you send the written report to my console, I'll access it
from here and read when I'm back in my office. In the meantime, what are your personal opinions?
Suicide or not?"
^"Suicide, too young to leave this world but I'm not the judge here..."^
"Sad, but in a way it's a relief. Murder would be the *last* thing we need to cope with right now. Okay,
if you can store her, I'll get someone to make any enquiries about family back on Earth. Not a huge
priority right now, and I'm sure she'd understand. Thanks again."
^"Not a problem"^
As she closed the comm, Mulder looked speculatively at Dharma, "Actually, you could look into this
matter for me."
"Certainly," nodded Dharma. It would certainly keep her out of trouble.
Mulder had been speed-reading the report as she spoke and nodded to herself. "A young girl, alone
here, kills herself. I'd like to know if there's anything else we can find out about her. Ask around the
neighbours, see if she ever spoke of family anywhere. Someone, somewhere, must know her and want
to take her body for burial."
"I can do that," Arihana had plucked a serviette and was writing down the sequence of enquiry with
eyeliner. "What's the run up to all this?"
"Apparently she had a visior shortly before she killed herself," Mulder tapped the Padd thoughtfully.
"And no, she wasn't raped. But still, it's a pretty drastic reaction. Maybe the neighbours saw someone
entering or exiting her apartment? If she had a boyfriend, it's odd that he hasn't raised the alarm yet.
Of course, it's unlikely that anyone saw much, what with it being so dark, but it's worth a try, yes?"
"It is yes, and where was this darkside?" Arihana asked, "That makes it even worse, see. Most walls
have ears, darkside is different."
"Well, if that doesn't come up with anything there is another route you could take," Mulder was still
thinking quickly. "Crewman Gomez took full forensic scans of the quarters and should have loaded
them up by now. As a counsellor, you'll have taken a basic medical course as well, yes?"
"Way back when, yes, and I did some work for coppers back home," replied Dharma, folding up the
paper handkerchief. "Forensic Psychology, but someone gotta do it."
"Grab some space in the science lab and see if there are any DNA traces apart from the victim's that
got picked up in the apartment. Bit of a long shot as there could have been any number of people
coming and going, but if the boyfriend is someone on this station, I think it's something we need to
know."
"We do, yep. I'll get to it, then," Arihana smiled, downing the last of her tea.
"Good. I'm sure that if there were any traces of alternate DNA anywhere in the quarters then Crewman
Gomez will have picked in up in her sweeps. She's very thorough."
"I'll get to science, start digging," the counsellor said to stand. "If I find anything. I'll give you a call.
Shall give you a buzz regardless, to keep you in the loop."
"Do. I'm sure the report is uploaded by now, so if there's anything extra there all you have to do is run
a match. At least she wasn't raped, I suppose that's cold comfort." Mulder stood up, "Good luck with
that."
***
From the corner, he could see. See her, and the woman that ran this place. The CO he didn't have
cause for. The woman was doing her job. As for Arihana. As Arihana walked past, he let his gaze follow
and bore into the back of her skull.
***
Arihana stopped outside the grocers. She felt that horrible sensation of being watched. "Hmm, come
by, woof," she said to Kiwi, dismissing it. Was the dark. That's all.
=^= Dharma quarters =^=
Boston Zaire moved around in the dark corridors of BoB with unerring skill. He was helped along by a
golden, green and red glow. It all depended upon which of his lights he was using. He had a number of
stage props with him and they were proving very handy. Occasionally, he had to drop them because
they turned into a sparkler effect toward the end.
Sheathed in silver glow, Boston pounded on the door. The door chimes simply weren't working.
"Commander?" he called. "It's Boston. Are you home? If not, Suraj, don't open the door to strange
men."
The doors opened, and out came two hands. "Boston, eh?" Fingers poked him various bits. "Yep, That's
Boston. In you come, mate," Arihana stepped aside. All that was visible of her was a couple of
reflective strips that had been attached to her uniform.
"How can you tell from a few pokes in the dark that it's me?" he asked, squinting at her.
She simply smiled. Like she was gonna give that away. There was a way of knowing.
"You all right?" asked Arihana snapping another bio chem light stick to hold it towards Boston to see
him. "I hope the sofa was okay. It shouldn't be too lumpy."
"I'm fine and it was fine," Boston said. "In fact, I haven't slept that good in ages, but what a mess we've
got here. Where's Suraj?"
"Suraj and the rest of the station Juniors are being dealt with in school. The school gym, having a quiz,"
she smiled. "Boston. What *are* you up?" Arihana asked waving the light at the props he held. "Put
them down, if you do yourself an injury, what good will you be to me?"
Boston laughed. "I'd only lose a finger or two," he said. "This was the only lighting I could find. They're
okay until you get to the end and they start sparkling all over the place. Scared me the first time."
"This concert you were planning,"Arihana sighed deeply. "Do you want to tell me about?" she tugged
his elbow to lead him towards the sofa. Since this was how far she had got last time. "As the chief
counsellor, I approve unreservedly. Would be good for morale, and I can volunteer the Sing a ding, or
better still. Recommend that you ask the BoB cats to hijack the flight deck."
Boston waited until she sat down and then sat beside her. "I like the Sing a ding," he said, "but I think
the flight deck or one of the cargo holds would be best. We might attract a little attention and my
concerts can get slightly, er, wild."
Arihana sat down next to Boston. "Go on, I'm listening. Wow me," she said, resting her head on his
shoulder a moment.
He turned his head so that his lips almost touched her forehead.
"My band is due in a couple of weeks to practice with me," he said. "I just thought why not hold a
concert - that's practice, too. Besides, you haven't seen me perform in person. I'd like your opinion. I
thought we could sell tickets and give the proceeds to a charity. Any ideas?"
Arihana shrugged, "I don't really know," she said, scratching an ear. "I'm sure we can find one, how
about equipment, marketing and stuff?"
"Actually, there's not too much to do for marketing and equipment. I have people," he said grinning,
"but I do need your help."
"Of course I'll help," she replied. "I get to see you in action, and you get to have me at your beck and
call. Hows that for a close working relationship?" Arihana giggled at the prospect.
"I'm glad you said that because it's me you're going to have organize. A couple of my key personnel are
still on vacation so I'd need your help to get the right clothes and look going, the right songs chosen
and help with setting the stage."
"We'll either get to know each other better, by the end of it," Arihana sighed deeply, to rub her eyes,
"Or we'll mutually dump one another, you know how it is. 'It's not you, it's me' kinda palaver."
"I wouldn't like the dump part," he said honestly. "I'm hoping we can overcome my rock star image. It
gets rather obnoxious with the fans, loud music and general mess. What kind of concert should we go
for? Standard or something special?"
"Have a theme," she smiled. "Call it Rock of Ages or something. Get people to shake their thing, and
bust a move as a historical figure. I'm dying to dress up as a Tudor Trollop," Arihana muttered the last
bit, as it was best kept to herself for the moment.
"I like it," Boston said. "The band will be dressed up as historical figures and we can have the audience
do the same if they'd like. What do you think of a party afterward with some reception finger food,
drinks and dancing. Get to know the band, get an autograph and give to charity. Sound good?"
"Sounds lovely," she nodded. "Just think of the funny costumes. It will be a blast."
"What should I be?" he asked.
Arihana tilted her head to imagine. "Someone pretty, perhaps. Prettier still, I mean."
"Paul Revere? He was from Boston," Boston said.
"All I know about Boston, is something to do with a tea party," Arihana wasn't going to hide behind
historical ignorance. "But whatever floats yer boat."
"What will you be?" he asked, for some reason thinking of Lady Godiva. He cleared the thought.
"A tudor trollop," Arihana said quite bluntly, before laughing. "Or to give the girl her proper name,
Anne Boleyn. The woman who quite literally lost her head for the man she loved, and brought England
to it's knees."
"Why her?" Boston asked as he imagined the low-cut gowns Anne Boleyn might possibly have worn.
"We're alike," she nodded, "Both inclined to stamp our little feet for what we want, and hang the
consequences. She was all dark hair and beady eyes," Arihana laughed. "I can do that, no problem."
"I can see the resemblance," he joked. "I'm not going as Henry VIII though. You might get the idea I like
a lot of women around and then behead them if they grow boring. Maybe I'll go as an Italian Mafia
boss."
"Al Capone? Sounds fun, unless you go as Eliot Ness." she concurred. "None of this masked ball
business, though, where we have mad floozies trying to ID you in the throes of hormones. Can tell you
now, it's a toss up between you and The Vaughan. As to who has the most knickers thrown at them."
Boston looked at her for a moment as the thought registered. "What?"
"I'm a counsellor," Arihana said rolling her eyes, "I hear all sorts of sordid things on a daily basis.
Besides, the Vaughan's taken, and as for you." She shrugged a moment. "If you see a pair of granny
pants come flying towards you whilst you're on stage. Duck. They aint mine."
"I've had that happen, you know," he said. "What color will yours be if they come across the stage at
me?" He winked.
"Colour?"Arihana asked with a porpoise smirk. Though that hadn't been the first statement of
rhethoric to enter her head.
"I want to know what to look for," he said smiling.
"Just look very hard,"she returned with a wry smirk.
"I think," he continued, "that after all this darkness, BoB will enjoy a bunch of sparkling lights and some
fun."
"Guess you'd better get to it then," she said, letting out a long drawn out sigh. "Putting this concert
together," Arihana turned to look at him. For that brief second there was a spark. That little frisson of
chemistry and unresolved tension that was starting to build.
This was one of them slow motion cinematic moments. A Clark Gable crossed with Bette Davis
moment of Universal Studio proportions. 'Dammit woman, kiss him', the voice in her head was
incorrigible.
Overwhelmed, and starting to lose control. Arihana looked away. 'You idiot' said the voice, as it made
her close her eyes and want to kick herself.
A hand touched the side of her face, very gently, carressing, fingers reaching out to softly brush a
strand of hair near her ear.
With his touch, Arihana slowly opened her eyes. This did not bode well. Was almost electric. But now
was not the moment to be worrying about wattage. The spark had been struck.
"Help me, Counsellor," he said quietly, "I think I may be suffering from delusions. I think kissing you
right now would produce the best kiss I've ever had."
Oh dear. The man radar was starting to splutter. She was positively hanging on his every word. What in
the name of jose was happening? Why couldn't she fight it, come to her senses and walk away?
He leaned closer to her lips. Paused and continued until his lips touched hers. The first touch was light,
tender and brief. It was followed by a longer kiss, chaste by all rock star standards.
It was that feeling of being over awed and not quite knowing what to do about it.
He drew back slightly, "No, I don't need analyzing after all. That was the best kiss I've ever had. Care to
take a chance on me?"
Arihana nodded. Speechless. There were no words to describe quite what she was feeling or what was
going through her head. Gently she placed her hands to his face. "Life's too short not to," she
whispered to regain the power of speech to return the kiss but this time on her own terms with a
renewed sense of conviction. She had nothing to lose, and the whole world to gain. It was about time.
Deciding that she needed air, Arihana puckered her lips away from his. Pressing her forehead against
his, she looked him straight in the eye. "You'll be a fool to think this gonna be easy. You could do
yourself a favour and walk away now. You still got time, not in too deep yet," she said it in hushed
tones still. As though anything louder may shatter the illusion if that was what it was.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said.
"Well, now we know where we stand," she smiled. "Or rather sit on my sofa. This concert. Won't
organise itself," Arihana pulled away, to fan herself.This required a rather stiff drink. "Do you want to
go do all the groundwork, have a word with the CO, and stuff?" she decided to stand, if her swooning
knees would let her. Luckily for her, they did.
"I'll be glad to," he said. "I'd like to meet the CO. I'll report back."
"Just let me know when and where you want me," replied Arihana. "And I'll be there with bells on."
she added combing fingers through her hair.
He grinned at her. "More than bells, I hope," he said. "I wouldn't be able to sing a word if you were just
wearing bells." He winked at her.
"Go," she smiled, to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "Before I find my inner neanderthal and drag
you to a darker spot still and have my wicked way with you. Might not be pleasant."
He laughed and wiggled his eyebrows.
"Off with you," Arihana cackled to edge him towards the door, picking up his lighting props. "T'ra for
now," She said to plant a smacker on his cheek.
"Call me if you need me," he said, sending off blue and white sparks into the hallway. "Call me even if
you don't."
=^= Possibly the security office =^=
Baxter Mattingly heard a thump at his door, at least he thought it was his door. It was way too dark for
him to be sure. Small torch in hand, he headed in the general direction, bumping into the table that
held his Baxter doll. "Sorry," he said.
He moved a little bit more and stubbed his toe on something and woofed at him. "Sorry," he said to
MacDougal. Then he managed to push the door button so that it slid open. He was met with a shower
of purple and pink sparks.
"Boston Zaire," a voice said behind the glow. "I'd like to see the chief of security."
"You got him," Baxter said, "come on in and have a seat."
The two groped their way into the office and settled into two chairs near the table.
"Baxter Mattingly," Baxter said. "What can I do for you Mr. Zaire?"
"I'd like to give a concert here on BoB and donate the proceeds to charity," Boston said.
"What kind of concert?" Baxter asked.
"Music," Boston said.
"Country? Klingon? Vulcan?" Baxter asked.
"Rock," Boston said.
"Oh, that Boston Zaire, Archangel on vacation," Baxter stated. "The one who told me before he got
here that he didn't want any fuss, wouldn't make any trouble and could keep a low profile so that
thousands of screaming women weren't bothering me."
"That one, yes," Boston replied.
"What changed your mind?" Baxter asked.
"Cdr. Dharma," Boston said. "I want to give a concert for her."
"For her?" Baxter asked his radar expanding.
"Yes, we've hit it off," Boston said. "I like to do things for my ... ah, friends."
"Right, you're on vacation, you don't want people to know you're here and you want to give a little
concert for your friends?" Baxter repeated.
"Right," Boston said.
"Right," Baxter said.
"It'll be a costume concert," Boston added.
"Okay," Baxter said. "I'll get you a cargo hold, but you arrange security my way."
"Of course," Boston said.
"And you need permission from the CO first," Baxter said.
"Can do," Boston said.
"Can you do this in the dark?" Baxter asked.
"Commander, I am extremely adept at dark," Boston said. "However, I think I'll wait until the lights are
on."
They stood up and almost bumped heads.
"It's a pleasure meeting you Commander," Boston said trying to see Baxter's face.
"Likewise," Baxter replied. "You're no longer a voice in the dark."
MacDougal put his paws over his ears.
After exchanging a word or two of pleasantries, Boston went on his way, guided by orange and
sapphire lighting.
Baxter felt his way back to his desk and pushed the communication panel.
"Hey Dharma babe," he said, "know you're not home, but what's this about you and a rock star?
Confess."
Then, he left another message, "Boss Babe, can you schedule in Boston Zaire? He wants to have a
concert."
That settled, Baxter bit into a chocolate bar and contemplated the reports he couldn't see. The visit
had been the light business; the reports were getting serious.
=/\= SB BoB Science lab three =/\=
She hadn't been there too long. But time enough to scrabble together various reports, have data
flowing around. Gigis' crime scene analysis was running on a screen. A simulation based on who was
were and what they did.
Arihana was standing at the work bench. There were various bits of data, images, records and
paraphenalia strewn across the bench, She had Gigi's report, and the autopsy as well. Various screens
were alight with investigational avenues. There was no indication a sexual assualt, the information told
her that plainly. Arihana crossed out the hypothesis.
"This is all too straight forwards, but you did cop off, didn't you, girly," she commented noting that
there were two sets of DNA. She tapped her commbadge. There was something that irked her.
"This is Dharma to Doctor Bonnefant," she started. "Are you free to come to science, I have a request."
"I'm assisting a patient, how fast do you need me?"
"It's important," Arihana answered. "I'll see you in a minute."
"On my way" His voice became serious.
Arihana had three screens in front of her. "This was all consensual, but there is something not right,"
she told herself. She flicked through the data on the victim. A young woman, on the wrong side of the
tracks who had fallen into selling her body for all the wrong reasons. That made it all more difficult.
The young woman became almost faceless.
François walk in a quick haste "You needed me?"
"Hello, Doctor, I need your brain, please," Arihana said moving towards him the two DNA Profiles on a
screen. "I want to know who the second batch belongs to. Needless to say, since there was signs of
recent sexual activity. It belong to a male."
"I'm comparing to what, I mean let be honest, universe kind is full of men" he gave a wink and a
pleasant smile.
"Could you have a look through the your patient database?" she asked. "Chances are, that it's
someone from here."
"Alright , give a second" he started to touch the screens and his hand and brain took over. Scren swap
faster and faster trying to analyse and find matching at the same time.
Arihana tapped onscreen to enlarge the autopsy remarks. "You didn't find anything to say it was
copping off gone wrong?" she asked as looked for anything that might suggest otherwise.
"No, everything seem to indicate a consensual relation" he stop changing screens "Shit"
"Do you have a match?" Arihana looked over the doctors shoulder.
"Well looking a records from past years in the infirmary the DNA matches to Dhillions." he look at her
seriously now "Would match his profile"
"Check again," her tone now seemed more grave. "Check, it, again, Francois," she repeated it with a
more agitated and aggrieved tone.
"Dharma, I'm sure" he check a second and third time to be sure "It's him."
"He's not meant to be here!" She exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Wait. Do you remember," she tapped the
screen to bring up her own medical records. "When I came back to BoB, and I was in really bad way."
She turned the data towards him, the information relating to what exactly Dhillon had done to her and
the reason why she had come back.
"Yes, I do. Thus telling you it matches is profile." a hint of worry could be seen.
"Francois, we know what he is capable of,"Arihana jabbed the screen, incandescent. "He may not have
have killed her, but I know, first hand why she may have killed herself."
"I see," raising an eyebrow.
"Listen,thank you," she nodded. "For the confirmation. That was what I needed. "
"Counsellor, your close to a potential danger"
"I'll be fine," Arihana replied, inhaling. "Go on, go get a coffee. I need to speak to people."
"Arihana" he put a hand on her shoulder "I wouldn't want something happening to someone I care
about, be careful" .
"We'll see. Don't worry," she said offering a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine."
He turn with a smile and walk out, as he cross the door "Computer give me of Arihana Dharma vital
signs every ten minutes and warn me if any unbalanced situation arrive immediatly and follow by a
location." He open his flashlight, he had a feeling if it was him and he was here, she was in a more
dangerous situation then she thought.
"Computer, get me the Captain, please," she extrapolated relevant data to compose a brief resume.
There was the sound of someone slightly out of breath on the other end as the comm routed it's call.
Mulder was pounding the walkways of the Arboretum in her jogging gear, as a form of therapy and
relaxation. Snookums had been able to send up enough floodlights to give the whole delightful area
the appearance of a park at night.
"Whooo.. I'm not as fit as I ought to be today," Mulder stopped and leaned over, hands on her knees,
as she caught her breath. "What's up?"
"Captain, this aint good," Arihana could feel her heart beat quicken. That and the chime from the
widget that the doctor had just placed on her biometrics.
"Oh?" Mulder immediately straightened up. As she recognised Dharma's voice, she had a nasty
premonition of what the subject matter might be. "What have you discovered?"
"We - or I rather - have reason to suspect foul play in the Dixon suicide." she answered. "You may want
to have security on call."
"Foul play?" Mulder smoothed damp tendrils of hair out of her eyes and reached for her bottle of
water. "I thought we'd established suicide? Explain, please."
"I have a name, identity, and possible MO too," the counsellor was seriously thinking of turning that
widget off.
Hastily swallowing a swig of water Mulder mumbled, "Let's hear it."
"A recent, unwanted arrival. Ex husband number one. How's that for a turn up?" Arihana was clearly in
no mood to be nice. "A bit of a feckwit, history of violence and aggro."
Mulder was glad she'd already swallowed her water or else she might have spluttered. As it was, her
face darkened. "Mister Havane? He's back?" She thought quickly, "Damn, it's a shame we never stuck
an alert on his file, as he would have been flagged up when he arrived back." But, she didn't need to
explain there had been no need at the time. Dhillon Havane had decamped, and Dharma had remarried and left to go live on earth. And then.. ever since Dharma's return, there had never been any
shadows of that past life sneaking over the horizon.
"I remember him," Mulder said darkly. "Do you know where he is now?"
"He'll be here somewhere. Chances are he'll have a craft on the flight deck," answered the counsellor.
"There's a lot of them, counsellor. Flight decks, I mean," Mulder said dryly. "Decks seven, eight and
nine are reserved for the more affluent traders and visitors so he probably wouldn't have booked up
there. He could be anywhere from decks one five six to one seven five. Have Ops run a quick check of
incoming passenger manifests for you, and once you find what ship he came in on, then ask Flight
Control or someone in Ops to give you the deck number and berthing bay. Oh, and feel free to get
security to pull him in."
"Oh, I will, don't you worry. Evidence is not one to be argued with," replied Dharma.
"Doesn't really matter if there's any evidence or not," Mulder was cheerfully Stasi-ish in her
interpretation of the law. "He was there, he hasn't come forward, so he'll have questions to answer.
Go for it, and keep me updated."
"I will, well posted, thanks. Dharma out." Closing the communications, Arihana sighed deeply. Then she
put out another call. "Dharma to Commander Mattingly and Crewman Gomez. A call of hypervigilance
pertaining the dixon suicide. Dhillon Havane. Something shy of six foot, he's a menace. He may have
something to say, or not as he's managed to evade all lines of enquiry. Use whatever force necessary
to detain him. At the moment, all he can be done for is trumped up and nothing more than assisted
Suicide. Lock him up, or I may be inclined to do something stupid. Dharma out."
Once the call had been terminated, she gave Ops a poke. Whilst she do this her way, doing it by the
book was always less likely to get her into trouble.
=/\= SB BoB - Lower Decks =/\=
Although Mulder has specifically ordered people *not* to wander around the darkened decks on their
own, or to go into uninhabited areas unnecessarily, she didn't believe it applied to herself.
There were two good reason why not - one was that she was becoming a little annoyed at herself for
the odd sensation of being leery about the darkness, and the other - she couldn't think of another right
at the moment but thought there probably was one, not that it was anyone else's business anyway.
So it was more a question of a little personal dare than anything else.
She travelled further below the Darkside area, down into the empty cargo hold and warehousing
decks.
Then she remembered the second reason why - there had been that odd request from Baxter
Mattingly about someone called Boston Zaire wanting to hold a concert or something. She had no idea
who Boston Zaire was, but presumed he was one of Baxter's eclectic collection of acquaintances who
wanted to do something in the morale-boosting line.
Fair enough. Anything to take their minds of this damned darkness. So there, she was checking out
suitable concert venues. That gave her an air pf respectability.
As the turbolift doors opened, she stepped out and took a steadying breath. It was darker than before
since there was no need for viewports on a warehouse deck. Gripping her flashlight in her hand, she
also switched on the head-lamp she wore like a bandana. It gave a suitable robust illumination, she still
felt uneasy.
Muttering a curse she thumped open the door to the first cargo bay and stepped inside.
Then stopped as she heard a whisper in the darkness. "Help me...."
"Who's there?" she demanded. "Who said that?" This is the Captain. If you're someone playing sillybuggers now is a very bad time to be doing it."
"Captain?" the little voice called, and there was a rustle nearby. Behind some stacked hoardings,
Mulder could see movement. "Come on out," she snapped, her spare hand deftly drawing her phaser.
There was a little sob, "I don't think I can. My leg is stuck. I've been shouting for ages and ages but noone could hear me."
Kneeling down, Mulder could now see a small boy, couldn't have been aged more than seven or eight,
peering with a grimy face at her. "Aren't you a bit young to be wandering on your own?"
Then she noticed blood on his leg, as it seemed to be trapped between two pallets. "Hold still," her
voice was gentler, but still firm and no-nonsense. "I'll get an expert down here."
Tapping her commbadge she said briskly, "Captain to the Infirmary. Can you lock onto my lifesigns and
beam down a medic, there's a little lad who's injured to rescue."
The doctor heard the call as he was just stepping out of a reschedule surgery. Vivianne look at him with
eye that said it all, there no staff that wanted to confront the darkness. He actually enjoy it, it was so
empty..."I'll be on my way captain"
"Ah, it's you, Doctor. Excellent," Mulder closed the comm and turned to the youngster, "You're getting
the head man himself, so we'll soon have you fixed up and out of there." No sooner had she spoken
than there was a momentary illumination accompanied by the whine of the transporter.
As Francois beamed beside her he was confronted again with a larger sensation of the dark cargo.
"Captain?" trying to get his bearing.
"Yup, right here," she waved the flashlight. "Here's your patient."
"Ah," as he located where they were. "So what the problem here" as he strap down his medical kit and
was preparing to fix the issue at hand.
"We've got a lad trapped by the leg here. Bloody good job I chanced along or he'd have been here all
night, or until he was missed," Mulder indicated the little waif.
"My mum and dad would have missed me when I didn't come back for tea," he sniffed.
"Why weren't you at school?" Mulder demanded. "And what's your name?"
"Mikey," he said, then looked sheepish, "I was bored at school, and when my teacher wasn't looking I
went outside to play in the dark. Then I went into the turbolift 'coz it was exciting, and it stopped here.
And I only wanted a look around," he started to sniffle.
"How did you get trapped?" Mulder said reprovingly. "It wasn't very bright to explore a dangerously
unknown area like this."
"I wasn't exploring. I was hiding," he started to sniffle again. "And I hid real hard, and then I got my leg
stuck.."
Mulder decided to let Francois take over, and moved aside.
"It hurts," Mikey whispered, as Francois moved to examine the problem.
"I see.." as he administered a hypospray "We need to bring to the infirmary, first issue is moving this"
pointing to one of the pallet "Without causing trauma to the leg, any idea?" trying to think himself of
the best course of action.
"I can lift," Mulder said, jumping to her feet. "I'm stronger than I look, and it's only a very little foot. An
inch should do it."
"You see, woman can be heroes too - remember that, kid," he gave the captain a smile.
"You keep an eye on the patient, I'll play hero," Mulder chuckled as she took hold of the pallet. It
wasn't really heavy, just awkward, and it only took a moment to shift from the outside. "There, that
enough?"
"Yeah, hold..." he pull the kid from underneath and provided the first aid before putting some
bandages on.
"So what were you hiding *from*?" Mulder asked, to distract him from the doctor's expert
examination.
"Don't know," Mikey whispered. "I just heard something rustling in the dark, and I thought it was
coming to get me."
"Eh, it was only your imagination," Mulder reassured him. "Now don't do anything like that ever again.
We'll have someone notify the school and your parents can come and collect you from the infirmary."
"Didn't imagine it," the boy muttered. "It was when the dark got darker. Then I knew it was coming for
me."
Mulder shook her head, "The dark can play lots of tricks on the senses. Even adults get spooked. Which
is why it's best to stay with grown-ups and do as you're told."
"Listen to her kid, you don't want her mad, she'll be scarier then anything that you ever meant in the
dark, trust me" he wink at her trying not to laugh "infirmary one to beam directly to main infirmary and
notify the parents that his under our care, I'll speak to the parents when I'm back" He looked at the kid
being beam out.
"Kids," Mulder said with amused exasperation. "They're like little rodents, getting everywhere in the
darkness. I hope that's taught him a lesson that will keep him out of trouble, for a while at least."
"Your a scary woman sometimes, it's part of the quals for a CO position" he winked. "About darkness I
need to speak to you about Dharma" as he finish "Arihana bio are normal" the computer answered. He
gave the captain a concern look.
"Ah, yes.. Commander Dharma," Mulder nodded. "She's spoken with me, and I've authorised her to get
Mister Havane brought in for questioning. So you're playing Guardian Angel to her? Not a bad thing,"
Mulder laughed quietly in the darkness.
"Let's just say that if HE'S here I want her safe" he almost seem uncomfortable about say it.
Mulder gave him a little look, but didn't pursue the matter. "Let's get out of here. That kid was right
about one thing - the dark *is* creepy. And that's coming from *me*," Mulder chuckled, then cursed
as she heard something crunch underneath. "Oh, crud, I think I might have broken something - hope it
wasn't valuable," she moved back and swung her flashlight down. "Jeez, is that what I think it is?"
"What is it? Hopefully nothing important to the lights of this station?" he give a short laugh.
There was a small pile of bones, skeletal bones, that were looking rather bust up as Mulder's delicate
size seven boot had trod on them. "Something died of hunger in here?" she peered at them.
The doctor got closer and put is tricorder close to the remains "Those are rats bones, kind of recent
too.
"Now we have rats too? Oh, well, I suppose we've always had rats," Mulder grimaced, "Have there
been many recently?"
"I saw a few with Dharma not long ago but can't tell more, the dark must give them access to more of
the station. You scared of rats?"
"Pfft, what, as compared to the Ha'agen, say?" Mulder laughed. "Not likely. Just don't like the filthy
creatures."
"I didn't think so, Do you know anyone popular dating Arihana. She mention a little relationship"
"Dating? No.." Mulder said absently. "But then again, the Counsellor's private life isn't my concern.
Unless it starts to impact on the station," she frowned slightly, thinking of the recent Havane-assisted
suicide issue. "So no, don't know about any relationship."
"Ok" he left it at that.
Mulder was still frowning at the bones. "In your medical experience, how long does it take for a body like a rat's body - to decompose?"
"Long time, close to a year." he frowned, realising what she was getting at.
"I see. And yet you said these bones were quite fresh.." Mulder looked puzzled.
"They are" took a pose, "Strange"
Mulder gave a little shiver, "Okay, I'm probably imagining things here. But don't you think that it just
got a little darker in here? When really, it's already as dark as dark can be.."
"Yes and I can see anything as aura is concerns"
"Scan for life-signs," Mulder said suddenly, sharply.
"Nothing, we're alone. I propose to get out of this room" taking a foot forward
"Seconded," Mulder said quickly, moving even quicker than he did, and not saying anything else until
they were out of the deck and back in the turbolift. The silence hung significantly between them, and
in the end it was Francois who spoke first.
"This wasn't normal, was it?"
Mulder looked at her Chief Medical Officer. "No, it wasn't. And I haven't a *clue* why it should be that
way."
"Must be our mind it as too, their no logical explication" he scratch his head.
The turbolift stopped and they walked out onto the Infirmary level. The corridors were still dark, but
there was spotlights glow spilling out of the main infirmary doors, and the hum of people going about
their business, so it had a feel of activity and the isolation was gone.
"I suppose we ought to be logical about this," Mulder said thoughtfully. "We've all be through a hell of
a lot this year, and to be honest we're probably all still suffering from the residual effects of all the
Mirror Universe tragedies. And now, the darkness... well, it saps your energy, doesn't it? Darkness can
be depressing, and make you more susceptible to imagining things that aren't there.£
"Post trauma stress from the darkness can be it, or stress from being confined" he shook his head
"Most likely, yes. Anyway, I'm going to go and get back to work now, and leave you to sort out that
wayward child," Mulder smiled. "And I shall also try not to imagine things - that won't help anyone at
all."
"I agree, have a good day in darkness captain" he turn move through the doors. As much as he wanted
to dismiss what happen, the more he realise something happen. He wasn't crazy, he couldn't see any
aura he was for once since the Betazoid hormone were produce in complete darkness and that was
scary.
=/\= SB BoB - Flight Deck =/\=
Opening the side hatch of the KnightMare, Mulder initiated the interior lighting system and the soft
yellow glow spilled out into the darkened flight deck. With a sigh, she climbed the ramp - if things had
been different, then she would have been prepping for her own flight, piloting Vaughan and his chosen
men off to destination unknown.
But everything changes, and now she had no choice but to send others. And it grated - she didn't mind
admitting it.
Tapping her commbadge, she said probably more sharply than intended, "Mulder to Lieutenant Quide.
That training mission we discussed the other day is still scheduled to go ahead. I'm sorting out the
Knightmare right now - you can come and give me a hand."
^On my way captain^ came the cheerful reply over the comm.
****
Inside, she realized there was actually very little to sort out. The whole inside area was basically open in front the pilot's and co-pilot's seat with the engineer and assistant navigator's seat behind the
pilot's. Apart from a low screen divider the rest opened up with to the spartan inner hull. There was
nothing by way of decoration or home comforts, and there wasn't time to gussy it up. Behind the
screen that separated the pilot's area from the rest, two long benches ran either side that were wide
enough to double as bunks. Towards the back, a small closed-off section held a basic bathroom
function. Behind this, an archway led into the small engineering section, and that was about all there
was.
Approaching the Knightmare, Quide was harkened back to the last time he had his hands on it. He
remembered it just like it was a few weeks ago... which it was. Lord, was the last emergency really that
recent? Doesn't Fate take a break around here? Already he felt like he needed another drink, but he
steeled himself and decided to wait until after this meeting was over before pulling out one of his
many hidden "emergency" bottles.
"Ello captain," he called up the ramp.
"Come along over here," she beckoned Quide up the side ramp. "I know you've flown with me before
in the Knightmare, but now you'll be in solo command of her, so you need to learn everything all over
again. You'll be flying for three to four days before you drop your human cargo off. And then - either
you'll be back, or you'll stay. From that point it'll be as the situation develops."
Were Quide anyone else he would have been insulted. He had, after all, flown the Knightmare solo on
an extended survey mission on New Earth. He felt quite comfortable with the ship already, though
typically he felt comfortable with ships even before he flew them - whether out of knowledge of his
skill or ignorance of the differences between vessels was anyone's guess. "I guess y'would pull
someone aside 'oo's flown 'er several dozen times too. This 'unk o ship must be rather special to ya."
Ignoring the implied question, Mulder continued blithely on, "Pa got this ship for me from the
Denariians, at a time a few years ago when I needed a vessel really urgently." she explained. "The
Denariians live a several sectors away from here. He described them as 'a bunch of genial fruit-loops',
and he's worked with them, so he should know. This is a customized meteor racer. Apparently meteor
racing is something of a national sport on the Denariian homeworld, and this baby was a winner in
several championships. Allegedly."
Mulder patted the helm console affectionately, "So, she's got a souped-up engine that can reach Warp
4, triple-backed inertial dampeners, ablative plating over the sensitive areas, and goes like shit off a
shovel, as they say back home. Of course, there are no fancy extras; everything that isn't useful to the
sport has been ripped out, and all power systems are geared to shielding and speed. In fact, she's
probably got a better shielding system than BoB." She paused, "Okay, so that's maybe not the most
reassuring comparison...she's got a better shielding system that most *normal* ships or stations. So in
theory, she's as safe as it gets."
Quide nodded and feigned listening politely, all the while looking forward to flying the mission. The last
time he flew Nomads turned out to be a great deal of fun - though surely not for the New Earth
inhabitants who had to rebuild the leveled buildings. That line of thinking got him to wondering
whether or not there were any mud wrestling establishments on BoB. He hadn't thought to check up
until now, but he would think that he would have passed by it by now if it was there, as the station was
only so big. It was a grievous oversight by the citizens of BoB.
Uh oh, there was a lull in what the captain was saying. He thought he'd better take a break from his
daydreaming and pipe up. "Am I going to find a great deal o need to test the extend o the shields?"
"Safety...is going to be a priority," Mulder breathed quietly. "Now technically she doesn't have any
weapons systems, as such - they don't exactly expect to get into a firefight along a race-track. The only
thing we *do* have," she indicated a control midway between pilot and co-pilot's seat, "...are blasters.
Meteor blasters, to be precise. Designed to... well, the name says it all. That will smash a huge chunk of
rock the size of a small planet to smithereens, so it's to be used only in direct emergency. No refined
shots across the bows in *this* baby. One blat and the game's over.." she gave a grim smile, "So
anyone crossing your path with evil intent would be well advised to think again. She doesn't play nice because she *can't*."
"I'll be sure to explain that to the debris the ships leave be'ind after the fact. Y'know what they say better late than never. I'm sure it'll do them some good to know that their vaporization wasn't
anything personal." His trial run of the Caledonia's firepower replaying in his mind, he gave his most
charming smile. "And now I'll just need to take 'er out for a spin to properly acquaint myself with the
weapons. I 'aven't tried them befo--"
"All in good time," Mulder cut him off. "I need you to concentrate for a moment of everything I'm
telling you as if you're hearing it for the first time. Once you learn the details of the mission, you'll have
*that* in your mind. So bear with me, Songbird," she gave a fleeting smile.
"All right, I'll be a well be'aved lil officer. Please do go on."
"What I like about this ship, is it's designed to be flown manually. That's *good*, in my book. It does
have a very basic autopilot, of course, so you don't really have to worry about co-piloting, I guess.
Personally, I don't need all that much sleep, and I know you have your own ways of, eh, working
through that. So provided you make good time, all you need to do is have someone with half a brain
watch the controls and yell if anything goes cranky."
"Making good time is a guarantee," he said in a cheerfully dismissive tone. "Though I'm 'esitant to
leave a Nomad near my console. Y'know what 'appened the last time one o them got near a button on
a ship I was flying."
"I wish we could go out in space to have this extra refresher course, but it'd just be extra work in the
darkness, so here's the skinny on emergency maneuvers," Mulder slid into the pilot's seat. "Right," she
indicated a slide-lever where her left hand rested, "That's the speed control at impulse - which is what
they used to navigate the meteors themselves, of course. Slide it upwards until," she flicked her fingers
outwards to a control just to the left of the speed control, "Until you're ready to go to warp. Hit that,"
she mimed doing so, "and off you go. "Simple, really - going at the pace the racers do, it *has* to be
simple."
She then indicated what appeared to be a roller ball, set halfway into the right hand side of the
console. "This is *the* all important impulse control. This covers all maneuvering thrusters, all
directions along the entire 360 degree axis." She rolled the ball sharply forward, "This will send her
forward, so backwards and sideways are self-explanatory. Of course, you can always do *this*," she
span the ball sideways abruptly, "..and the ship will spiral in a sideways corkscrew. Now you see why
the dampeners need to be good," she smiled.
"Dampeners... right," Quide said almost spitefully before regaining his easy grin. "I'm sure I'll find the
right middle ground between 'aving a boring flight and being thrown against the bulk'eads."
"I know you can handle it, Songbird." She sat back lazily in the pilot's seat and threw him the punchline
calmly and casually. "You're going to fly a party of Marines to infiltrate Breen Space, and rendezvous
on a Breen outpost manned by - I hope - Breen dissidents who will explain some dastardly goings-on
that allegedly will be a serious and deadly threat to this sector. The marines are going to have to deal
with whatever they find in whatever way they think fit. Your job is to get them safely there and get
them safely out."
After listening intently to all that he was told, he nodded slowly. "I'm more than 'appy to do it, Captain
Slow Riding 'ood, but I'll warn y'in advance that the Songbird Limousine Service isn't cheap, and after
an incident with a Bolian forgery artist, we're no longer accepting the Free One-way coupons we
printed out last year."
"Ha, it isn't the Songbird Limo Service, it's Mulder Airways and don't you forget it," his cheerful manner
was taking the edge of her tension and she gave a reluctant grin. "You'll have to make do with tips and
free nylons and chocolate."
"All right, all right. I was going to give the lot o them a discount anyway for being military and all. Plus a
credit for y'providing the ship... I'm thinking a month's shore leave might about cut it."
"Around here?" she snorted with laughter, "You'll have to go through several emergencies once you
get back just to make up for the emergencies you'll miss whilst you're out there. Can't have a pilot
getting into a Negative Emergency Equity situation.."
"Rain check on the leave then?" he ventured, apparently trying to remain an optimist. "Either way,
don't let Reeds give y'too much trouble while I'm off. 'Ee's been putting off 'is physical therapy, but 'ee
seems perfectly fit for directing ships and simple flights. Sure 'ee'll complain all the while, but I've
found muting y'comm works wonders for it."
"I'll keep his nose to the grindstone, don't you worry. And I've sent out a request for Ensign O'Rourke's
return if he's cleared for duty. So maybe Reeds won't have to work alone." Mulder tapped the console,
"Now, any questions that I probably won't be able to answer?"
He simply shook his head. "I don't 'ave any questions, captain. Fly there, fly back - it's all rather simple,
isn't it? All o the other details are just so much bother. If it wasn't dangerous, y'wouldn't be sending
the Nomads in the first place, so I know well enough to be careful. Not that I would be likely to not be
careful with any other passengers anyway, y'understand. What I mean to say is y'can count on me to
not blow the lot o them out into space or the like."
"I know, Songbird, I know," Mulder gave a quiet sigh. "If it was still the Colonel in charge I probably
wouldn't be so on edge about it - he knows the score with these people, after all, but.." she broke off
and shook her head. "What I'm trying to say is, Lieutenant Szabo is everything a marine ought to be by reputation. And the Colonel vouches strongly for him, and he isn't the type to be take any marine on
reputation alone. So there ought to be no problems. But it's unknown quantity, so... "
"So y'going to be making a meal o y'fingernails until this 'ole thing is over," Quide filled in the blank. "At
least y'will know well enough once this is over."
"Consider yourself my representative and observer," Mulder gave a mischievous smile, "Is that a tactful
enough way of saying 'feel free to snitch with any gossip you like about the guy when you get back'?"
"I'm 'ardly one for gossip, captain," he said with an impish grin. "But I'll rat, tattle, and tell tales all day
long when we get back. But speaking o positions, 'oo will be in command o this little venture o ours? It
always seems to get complicated when involving more than one branch y'know."
"Lieutenant Szabo will be the commander on the ground - but in the air, what you say goes. Actually,
you're both the same rank, so I expect you'll handle your specialties fairly between you both. I know so
little about what you'll be facing out there. Initially, you'll be transport only, then get the hell out of
Breen airspace and get back here. But.. according to what they discover and what your gut instinct tells
you, if you need to provide air cover or emergency evacuation, then that's your call. I'm setting you
free rein on this."
"Y'can count on me not to make a muck o it, and to bring y'ship and y'marines in mostly perfect
condition."
"Co-ordinate are already programmed in for you," Mulder flicked the automation of the nav screen.
"The ship has pretty accurate systems - bearing in mind her previous existence, she'd have had to. Plus,
she isn't linked to the station's computer systems so this is about as confidential as it gets. As far as
anyone else knows, you're taking some of the new Nomads out on a shakedown exercise. If you need
to contact me, then use the ship's channel - it's pretty secure and will alert me to take the message in
GL, so it's failsafe-ish. But only use in case of dire emergency, operate on radio silence only as soon as
you leave the station."
~Oh I'll shake them down all right~ he thought with a grin, wondering how the lot would handle his
fondness for not using inertial dampeners. "I guess all that remains to be said is when we're set to
leave," he said, looking forward to the trip more by the moment.
"I believe that Lieutenant Szabo will be leaving within the next twelve hours tops - so pack light, and
stay safe out there Songbird - that's an order," Mulder punched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Oh, well, if it's an order..." he smirked. "I'll be off now to get ready. I 'ave to be sure to bring a wide
range o music, since I don't know what the lot will be able to tolerate listening to for the next few
days."
"Catch you on the flipside," Mulder climbed out of the cockpit and exited the ship. "She's all yours
now."
"Y'say that now, but I just know y'going to try to take 'er back when this is all over..."
=/\= Docking area, Starbase BoB =/\=
Colin Wriggleskin walked off the transport and onto Starbase Bob for the very first time. He held his
luggage awkwardly and wondered where to go next. He didn't have to wonder for long as an officer
seemed to be waiting for him.
“Ensign Wriggleskin?”
Colin nodded. “Please come with me.”
Colin followed. “Are you showing me to my quarters?”
“No... the Science department is reasonably short staffed. You will be starting work immediately.”
“What... real work?”
“Yes.”
“But I'm new!” Colin complained. “I need a week to settle in, then another week to just generally doss
about before slowly starting to get into some work.”
The man turned. “A mild epidemic broke out two hours ago and we are extremely short on science
officers at the moment.”
“Wait... what? Epidemic? Surely that's Medical's problem.”
“You're a scientist aren't you?”
“Yes.”
“Medicine is a sort of science.”
“Well yes... but no... wait... maybe.” Colin was having trouble keeping up with the officer, and didn't
really want to go where he was heading. As he seemed to be heading very quickly towards hard work.
“...but thing is. I don't know the first thing about diseases or anything. I'm an anthropologist. Do you
know what that is?”
The man stopped and turned again. “I'm a Starfleet officer sir, I have an IQ of 157. I spent years training
at the academy. I didn't just leave my council estate one day and put on a starfleet uniform. Therefore I
KNOW what an anthropologist is.”
Colin fell silent. “Ah. Of course. Sorry.” Then after a moments pause continued. “Thing is...
Anthropologists don't do 'diseases'.”
“Then what do you do?”
“Well.... not much really. Which is why I chose the subject. It's a pretty easy topic because nobody
really understands it and you can get away with doing nothing. Why have we stopped?”
“This is where you will be working today. Science lab 69.”
“Gee thanks.”
The man left Colin to it.
The lab was bustling with so much activity that nobody noticed the new guy arrive. Still clutching his
luggage, Colin turned his computer on.
“How can I possibly help the spread of a disease?”
As he spoke, several photos appeared on his screen. “Who are these?” Colin asked.
“They are all infected with the disease. They came aboard Starbase BoB a few hours ago. It might help
us if we knew where they contracted this virus, then we might be able to find an existing cure rather
than spend weeks inventing a new one. The whole station might be infected by then.”
Colin shrugged his shoulders. “But it says everywhere they've travelled to right here in their profile.”
“Yes. But none of them have stopped at the same worlds.”
Colin looked through their travel logs. It was true, neither of them had been on the same planets. So
where had they contracted this mystery disease?
“Maybe they had visited a planet that isn't on the starcharts?” He asked himself. Then paused. The
answer was staring at his face. He called for the boss to come over.
“Here.” He pointed on a starchart to empty space.
“What?”
“All the planets these people have visited in the last week are planets with narcotics problems. Necrite
9, Amobun 2, Crakhed 4... they all have problems with 30-40% of their populations being addicted to a
drug named 'Trigosian-sod-cake'.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And it's too much of a coincidence that these people have visited all of the planets with this drug
problem.”
“So they're drug traffickers?”
“Probably. Maybe. Well it makes sense. If they have been shipping these drugs, then they will all have
been to the same planet. Trigosian X.”
“Trigosian X?”
“Yes. It's a world that the drug barons pay a lot of money to keep off Starfleet maps. They don't want
us to know it's there.”
“And you know where it is?”
“It's here... look... where I'm pointing! All these people have been here, which means it is likely that
this is the place they have contracted the disease.”
The lead science officer nodded and went away to tell a superior officer.
An hour later he came back again. “Good news newbie. We sent a starship to that location and it
tested positive for the disease. Well done Engisn...”
“Wriggleskin. Colin Wriggleskin. Can I go unpack my things now?”
=/\= USS Caledonia - Bridge - Above the Deva Loka Homeworld =/\=
"Orbit established, Cap'n," Jinti flicked the auto-controls with a flourish.
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Chess replied automatically, as they all gazed at the main viewscreen with the
water world of Deva Loka below them.
The tiny peninsula that housed the order of Po was easy to spot, being the only land mass on the entire
world. "Looks pleasant," Chess murmured, wondering what sort of serpents lay in Eden. "Brother
Dulcian is expecting us, I spoke with him a short while ago. Crewman Erendin, locate the beam-in site
and stand by to transport us down."
"Will do, Captain."
"Lieutenant Lamarr, you have the bridge," Chess stood up and relinquished her seat. "There's no point
on going down mob-handed for the first meeting. I'll take just Commander Fell and Doctor Conley with
me. Then we can sort out who goes down and when afterwards."
"Sure thang, cap'n," Jinti ambled over to the command chair, as Richards slid across into her pilot's
seat.
"Commander," Chess motioned to Zerin, "With me. I'll comm Doctor Conley on the way. We need to
stop by the stores and collect high-temperature gear."
Sandrik and Harkum accompanied Zerin. "I brought some sun block, just in case," Harkum said, holding
up a bag full of orange plastic bottles and handing it to Zerin.
"I would imagine that the dome filters out UV rays - but if your investigations lead you outside on a
different trip it might help. Wear it if you like anyway." Chess said as they walked along.
"Couldn't hurt," Zerin shrugged.
******
=/\= Sickbay =/\=
From outside Bree's office Carol could hear a short com exchange followed by a very loud, and pained,
groan. The Doctor stomped out of his office and over to the bio bed where Carol was waiting.
"It's time for me to go and meet the Monks." He held his hand out for the medical equipment he had
ordered to be cleaned. As Carol passed it over he gave it a brief examination. It was certainly tidier
than he'd ever seen it. Bree frowned at Carol, "It'll do. Make sure the rest of the supplies are looked at
before I get back too. I don't know what I'll be needing."
Before Carol could complain about the amount of work Bree stalked off towards the transporter room.
=/\= Transporter Room =/\=
Chess distributed the sealed packages to Zerin and Bree, "Standard away team issue for tropical
situations," she explained. "Shirt, trousers, lightweight shoes and hooded over-tops. I agreed with
Brother Dulcian that we'd wear this, as I really didn't fancy the idea of wearing monk's robes. Plus, we'll
be inside the equivalent of a vast greenhouse and it'll be extremely hot. The fabric on these things is
specially designed to reflect heat - allegedly. We can change when we get down there."
"How do these people avoid heat stroke?" Sandrik wondered, standing behind the transporter console.
"Maybe they carry those little hand-held fans?" Zerin wondered. "Or they run the air conditioner a lot.
Or they drink a lot of water. On the bright side, we won't have to worry about mosquitoes carrying
diseases."
"Maybe they do have heat stroke." muttered Bree as he poked at the sealed uniforms. They were
certainly different. "That would explain why they think living in a bubble is such a good idea."
"Certainly wouldn't be my choice of solitude," Chess muttered as they made their way to the
transporter platform.
All three stood on the transporter pad, holding their away-team clothes packages. "We're ready,
Mister Erendin," Chess tapped her commbadge. "Energise.
=/\= Deva Loka - Inside the Dome - Reception area =/\=
They rematerialised inside what Chess could only describe as a superior changing room. White tiles on
the floor and walls, a large cubicle marked 'Decontamination' and a row of changing cubicles along the
walls.
Standing at the far end to greet them was Brother Dulcian, every bit as efficient looking in the flesh,
despite the simple white robe he was wearing, with a pair of grass woven sandals on his feet.
"Welcome to our community," he said pleasantly.
"Thank you," Chess walked forwards, "If I may introduce my officers - Operations Chief Commander
Zerin Fell, and Chief medical Officer Doctor Bree Conley."
"You are all most welcome," Brother Dulcian gave a little bow. It was only then that Chess realised he
was standing behind a forcefield. "If you would care to change clothes, then we can walk out into the
main community."
"Right," Chess espied the cubicles again and made for them. "Come on, let's do this," she told the
others brightly.
The place reminded Zerin of Marjane Edvarsson's boutique. Specifically, the "relaxing" music Marjane
piped into the dressing rooms, which would put you to sleep before you finished undressing. This place
played a lot of recordings of chanting monks, to remind you that it was a monastery.
Bree wrinkled his nose at the place before he stepped into the cubicle. He wasn't best pleased by the
insinuation that they weren't pure, or that they were so unclean that they needed to be
decontaminated. His mood wasn't helped by the fact that he managed to jar his elbow against the side
of his cubicle several times as he attempted to change. Every knock was accompanied by an unspoken
Monk directed curse.
Eventually Bree emerged from the cubicle dressed in his new uniform. He was unsure whether to have
the hood up or not and flicked it backwards and forwards several times before settling with it up. He
could almost be mistaken for a particularly irate Monk himself.
Chess slipped into her away team uniform as quickly as possible. She supposed it made a change to be
wearing something brand new, but she felt like a nomadic dweller from an epic age sci fi movie.. she
just couldn't quite remember which one at that moment.
With them all now wearing the standard tropical away-team uniform, Chess had to admit that it did
feel distinctly more comfortable than their normal duty uniforms. "Are we ready?" she asked Dulcian.
"One moment, Captain. If you could all stand in the decontamination chamber, we use an air suction
process to remove any traces of dust from outside."
"Ah yes dust. The long standing nemesis of purity..." Bree grumbling was cut off by the sudden
activation of the chamber. It was like being on a very low tech transporter. One that wasn't going to
move you by transmitting your molecular information bit by bit, but one that was just going to blow
you the entire distance. Bree's hood flapped furiously about his head.
There was a FWWWWWOOOOP sound and for a minute, Zerin had a mental image of everyone being
sucked up into a giant vacuum bag.
Chess could certainly feel the cobwebs blown away.... she blinked and put a hand to her head to stop
her hair from whipping into her eyes. For sure, nothing by way of dust or debris was going to stay
around in that. Refreshing, albeit far too thorough for her comfort.
Once the process was over, the forcefield dropped and they walked out into a corridor. "Now we may
shake hands," Dulcian gave a sharp, businesslike smile as he proffered a hand.
Returning the courtesy, Chess could feel a million questions bubbling away inside, but held onto them
for now. "May we see the exterior?" she asked.
"Indeed, and feel free to ask any questions you have," he led the way out of a side door, and they
found themselves standing in a small valley, a paradise of greenery and flora of vibrant colours. Far
overhead they could see the faint distortion of the clear dome. To the side were a small collection of
crisp white buildings, and around them walks through leafy paths. But the temperature - it was like
walking into an oven, and Chess was extremely glad of the outerwear.
They started walking along the path.
Bree immediately started to perspire as they followed Dulcian along the path. "Do you always enjoy
such good weather? Or does your dome have different seasons?" He couldn't imagine anyone staying
sane in this heat, not for months on end.
Dulcian gave a smile of acknowledgement, "This is a tropical area so for most of the year we have the
sun. However, there are two wet seasons, comparative to monsoons on Earth, where we have
thunderstorms and rainfall. It adds to the sensation of being at one with the cosmos, so we enjoy the
variety. But for the most part, it is as now - beautiful and temperate."
"And along with the good weather then...good health?" Bree narrowed his eyes. "Are you all very
outdoorsy and active?" He had to admit the place did look quite nice but it didn't seem quite right or
quite complete. It was like a resort that hadn't been quite finished to Bree's mind. All the buildings and
plants were in place but the normal animal and bird noises you'd expect with such a paradise were to
his ears oddly absent.
"We work to tend the gardens and plants," Dulcian waved a hand at the vast expanse of greenery and
orderly fields of crops. "Plus we do regular maintenance on the systems here, so nothing fails or breaks
down. Our equipment is very high spec, and our engineers are extremely well qualified, so with regular
maintenance we enjoy perfect mechanical support."
Chess silently wondered if she could kidnap a couple of said engineers for the Caledonia, in that case.
Dulcian was still speaking, "Plus we grind the flour, make our bread and food to store, cooking on a
rota. And then there is the main part of our day, our devotions to the order."
"What form does that take?" Chess asked. "Formal prayer?"
"Not.. prayer, exactly, Captain. We do not worship any specific deity." Dulcian was leading them into a
wide open clearing that was gravelled over in the middle, an amphitheatre except there were no high
sides to it, only a hundred plain wooden seats arranged in a large circle. "We have formal communal
contemplation here every noontime and every midnight, to best observe the skies at their most
opposite. And then when we are not about our duties, we wander freely to enjoy and ponder on the
infinite wonder and purity of the galaxy."
"Sounds interesting," Chess was being diplomatic.
Dulcian shot her an amused look, and Chess felt she had so many more questions to ask, but they
should really get on with the matter in hand.
By then they had returned almost full circle to the collection of habitat buildings, and a figure
approached from a smaller block at the far end, and hailed them.
"Brother Hoix," Dulcian introduced him as he approached. "Our senior engineer and maintenance
technician. I asked him to meet us here."
Hoix arrived, a short muscular man in his early forties, with a mop of dark curly hair untouched by grey.
He had intelligent eyes and a disarming grin, and if it hadn't been for the white robe and sandals he
would have looked like any skilled engineer Chess had ever met. "Welcome Starfleeters. Glad to have
you here. You're going to see if there's anything we've missed, eh?"
"We're going to see if there's anything our equipment can tell us that yours can't," Chess was still being
diplomatic. "This is our Ops chief, Commander Fell, she'll be working with you."
"How-Do, Commander," Hoix gave her a casual salute. "I'm just about to work on the main computer
frame, if you'd like to accompany me?"
*Why the heck is this man wearing a robe in tropical heat?* Zerin asked. She held out a hand for him
to shake. He looked up at the hand and then at her. Then he took the hand and shook it, managing a
bland smile while he was at it.
"Pleased to meet you," Zerin said. Her admittedly rather limited empathic ability couldn't get a read on
this guy, and even if she did, it would be like the psychic equivalent of eating mayo with white bread,
because he was creepily normal.
She followed him to a far building, where there was a ridiculously state-of-the-art system of computers
with blinking lights and efficient readings. There was no Gertrude on this planet. This made Zerin a
little sad. At least the mood music was a little more cheerful than in the changing rooms.
Hoix turned around and spread his arms. "You'll see several different computers in this building."
"Yes, there are quite a lot of computers," Zerin agreed.
"Each is wired into the main computer bank. Each maintains a different function." He pointed at a
small, squat little console system with a bunch of bobbing dots on it. "This is our hydrospheric monitor.
We use it to monitor hydrosphereic systems. Now this"--he pointed at another computer with whitish
green dots--"is the atmospheric monitor. We use it to monitor the atmospheric systems."
Each monitor had an "ic" suffix attached to it. Each was introduced with cheerful efficiency by Hoix.
Zerin desperately tried to maintain interest. This place was so normal, so efficient, so well-managed
that she wanted to scream.
As Zerin departed, Dulcian turned to a building on the other wing, "Our resident Infirmarium, Brother
Kosnax, is awaiting your medical officer, if you'd like to drop by for an initial meeting?"
Bree held his medical kit a little tighter to his uniform and nodded, "The infirmarium..." It didn't sound
great to Bree. "I'll be back in a moment."
He wandered into the building and instead of the rickety shambles he was expecting he entered a
clean, small, shelf lined room. It wasn't the size of the Caledonia's sickbay but it made use of the space
well. There were shelves filled with jars of various leaves and odd coloured pastes.
In the centre if it all stood a Monk a little shorter than Bree. He looked a lot like Bree's high school
maths teacher not the odd Monk type he was expecting. All he needed was some leather elbow
patches and Bree could imagine him teaching.
Bree flicked his hood down, "I'm Doctor Conley, from the Caledonia. Are you...?"
"Brother Kosnax." There was a small prim smile from the man as he bowed his head slightly. "Welcome
to our Infirmarium. I wish you were visiting for more pleasant reasons."
"Yes don't we all. It must be a very difficult time..." He trailed off. Bree knew he should really try and
butter the man up a little but the heat was getting to him. "I'd like to perform an autopsy so we can
find out exactly what happened."
Another small bow of the head from Kosnax, "Of course. We expect nothing less. Later this evening
perhaps? Say 1900? I will be free then to assist."
Bree hoped his wince would go unnoticed. "Okay, I'll bring my equipment down. Or should we move
the deceased up?" The Caledonia's Doctor asked hopefully and indicated upwards and beyond the
dome, "My sickbay has the facilities for such a procedure."
"That won't be massacre." There was no nod this time but the small smile remained. Kosnax pointed
around the room at various bits of equipment that were stowed away. "We have the facilities here
also. Our medicine is based mainly upon what we extract from the environment but we haven't
forgotten the importance of more modern technology."
"The environment? Herbal medicine then." Bree made the mistake of sounding interested.
"Yes of a sort, for example this sample here..." Kosnax pulled down a jar of something vaguely cacti
looking, "This is perfect for relieving headaches. And this one here is..."
*****
As the others went off with their opposite numbers, Chess was left alone with Brother Dulcian. "Are
there any protocols we need to be aware of?" she asked, "Any times that we would be disturbing your
devotions?"
"AS a matter of fact... yes. The hour at mid-day and the hour at midnight we all gather in the central
arena and contemplate the universe as a group. It would be preferred if you were not here at those
times."
"We'll try and oblige. But... if the damage is coming from inside the dome itself, that might just be the
very time we *do* need to be here, free and able to wander and catch anything that you wouldn't
otherwise notice."
"A good point, captain," Dulcian considered, "Maybe in time - if all other resources fail - I can allow it.
But for now I would prefer not. I hope you can oblige."
Chess felt able to concede that point, as they'd been very accommodating up to then. "And what of our
searches outside the dome? We shall have a few shuttles flying overhead. If there is someone or some
thing sentient outside that's casing the damage, then they would know that you are all otherwise
occupied during these hours and so this would be the very best chance we have of seeing if something
is amiss."
"That would work, Captain. I cannot say we would like to have anything disturb our contemplations,
but it is a very valid argument. So feel free to be on our peninsula at any time of your choosing."
"Excellent," Chess gave a brief half-smile. "Now, maybe you could show me around a little more and
tell me a few things about how your order was founded.."
-= Fifteen minutes later =-
As Bree trudge back from the building towards them there was a particularly sour look on his face. It
didn't shift much when he finally arrived. "The autopsy will occur later this evening. Brother Kosnax will
be assisting me." He did his best not to grit his teeth.
"Very well." Chess noticed the atmosphere and bit her lip to avoid smiling. This was going to be an
exercise in diplomacy in and of itself. Then she saw Zerin rejoin them, and decided it was time to
depart, for now.
"We'll return to the ship, and sort out arrangements," she told Dulcian. To her Zerin and Bree she said,
"In order to avoid interrupting the Brothers' devotions, we won't beam down into the dome itself at
noon or midnight so they can have their hour's contemplation in peace. All other times, feel free to
make arrangements with your opposite numbers here and do whatever you need to do."
"We appreciate your considerations," Dulcian nodded gravely. "If it becomes necessary in time to be
here during Contemplations, then we will arrange it, of course. But only after I discuss it with my senior
Brothers."
They strolled back the short distance to the reception chamber, and once they had changed back into
their standard uniforms, Chess placed her away-team outfit on a hangar in the cubicle she'd used. "We
might as well leave our whites here - that way we shan't run the risks of contamination back on board,"
she ordered.
Standing on the transporter pad, they beam-up was completed and within seconds they fund
themselves back in the Caledonia's transporter room. "That was.. interesting," Chess gave them all a
knowing look. "Right then, Commander Fell, make arrangements to go down this afternoon and start a
complete diagnostic of their filtrations systems. Doctor Conley, you've got your arrangements for your
autopsy. I'm going to get security started on a search of the mountains and hills around the valley, and
initiate the fly-over searches and scans. Let's get busy."
=/\= SB BoB - Dark Corridor =/\=
Shrouded in darkness, Quide made his way through the halls of BoB. His flashlight created a small cone
of light in front of him that marked the only visible area to be found. He knew he should have stuck to
the outer corridors to gain some illumination from the starlight, but these walkabouts he went on to
stretch his legs did tend to devolve into aimless meandering and he was hardly at all sure where he
was anymore. There was some comfort to be gained from the fact that he *did* know that he wasn't
on the flight deck dealing with those uppity private pilots.
Well, that wasn't fair - some of them were a real treat, but a handful acted all high and mighty just
because they owned their own ship. He had half a mind to call up to Ops and ask them nicely to open
fire. Not at the ships, obviously, but around them. Just to give them something to think about the next
time they chose to be difficult.
Reaching up, he turned off his headphones in hopes of hearing some sort of noise or commotion that
might give him a hint as to where he was. It was a shame he had to cut his music off, as he was quite
enjoying his new find. Typically only interested in ancient classic rock and the like, he had overheard
mention of a man named Archangel on the station, and the music that went with the name was well
with the money.
Unfortunately, his sacrifice of the pleasant melody was all for nothing, and he didn't hear anything to
indicate his current location. As a matter of fact, he didn't hear anything at all. It was his first real
venture out into the darkness since the power outage. Between his lava lamp, the starlight, the ships'
lighting and the glow from his Torpedo Command arcade console, the flight deck was fairly well lit by
comparison. Now that he was out in it, it felt rather unnerving.
It wasn't as though he was scared of the dark. Even when he was a little boy, he could handle pitch
black as well as full daylight. Well, as far as not being afraid anyway - he didn't like it one bit, because
he couldn't see well enough to move about. Oddly enough, the encroaching dark never had bothered
him on the same level as his claustrophobia. He supposed it was because he knew that he could move,
even if it might cause a few bumps and bruises from bumping into walls, furniture, and hard-headed
people.
Quide spun around at a sudden noise, raising his flashlight to find the source. There was nothing there,
though.
"What the 'ell is wrong with y'Tom?" he chided himself for his jumpiness. "It's just the bloody dark. I
suppose y'will be wanting a nightlight next."
That thought brought to mind a cheerful tune and he began to sing to himself.
"Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you.
Make a little birdhouse in your soul.
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet.
Make a little birdhouse in your soul."
There was that noise again. Quide noticed himself backing away from it, which was foolish because he
didn't even know what it was he heard, let alone where it was coming from. He focused intently on the
light cast before him by the flashlight, and couldn't help but wonder if the cone it created wasn't
reaching as far into the dark as it was a moment ago.
"Y'imagination is running away with ya," he told himself, even as his feet, through their own volition,
continued their slow, backward motion.
Never one to argue when his feet desired to move, he decided not to argue and just turn tail and
continue on at a speedy walk away from where he had just been.
"Turbolift, turbolift... why do they always 'ide when y'want them?" he spoke out loud just so there
would be some friendly sounding noise. He considered turning Archangel back on, but then he
wouldn't be able to hear anything else that might be around him.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Anything else that might be around him? Like what? The boogeyman?
He'll be seeing the whole cast of Nightmare Before Christmas before long.
"And I'd be better off for it," he commented cheerfully. "Jack Skellington 'ad a nice set o pipes for not
'aving a throat."
For all of his brave face and reasoning, he couldn't help but feel the darkness closing in around him,
and he noticed his breathing starting to speed up. ~What are you trying to prove anyway?~ he scolded
himself. ~There's no one around to see you being nervous. If you're uncomfortable, get out!~
Something about that struck a chord in his memory. Was that the kind of thing Dharma had been
telling him? Was he supposed to stick out his uncomfortable situations? If so, he should make a start of
it right here and now. Face his fears and vanquish them, that sort of thing. He'd seen it done to
arachnophobics. They held a spider, and the ones that didn't accidentally get handed a poisonous one,
get bitten and die, could come away from it with a tolerance for the little critters.
His resolve had just been firmed when he thought he heard the noise again from behind him.
"Right. Face my fears starting just as soon as they fix the damn lights," he said as a mental note as he
hurried off to find a lift."
=/\= USS Caledonia - Shuttlebay =/\=
The Caledonia pilots were making their final pre-flight checks before departing on flyover surveys.
"Tunnocks."
"Tunnocks Caramel Wafers, four-pack each, check."
"Coffee."
"Coffee, black, two sugars," Richards handed over a flask. "Check."
"Ham an' pickle sandwiches."
"Ham and pi - awww crap. The replicator gave me ham and tomato.."
"Jeez, I don't like tomato."
"You'll just have to pick the tomato out," Richards sounded unsympathetic.
"Mmph.." Jinti grumbled as she took the sandwiches anyway. "Now where wuz I?"
"Grid references?"
"Yup, got 'em programmed in," Jinti swung into the 'Titty, as the shuttle 'Queen Nefertiti' was
affectionately known. "An' we'll take a two-hour patrol an' a two-hour rest. Remember whut the Cap'n
sez, they don't like folks flyin' overhead much when they'z doin' their devotions thang."
"So we start at the tip of the peninsula and work inwards. Seems a fair compromise," Richards climbed
into the shuttlecraft 'Copernicus', or just 'Nickers' as Jinti had named it. "I wonder what they actually
*do* when they're contemplating."
Since neither hatch was closed, Jinti looked straight across at him. "Do? Well, they contemplates
o'course. Ain't that whut contemplatin' is all about?"
"Yeah, but I mean, do they just meditate or do they do arcane rituals or what?"
"We could always do a sneaky fly-past on our way down an' grab a peek at whut they'z up to," Jinti
grinned. "I bet it's real borin' though."
"Hey, any life without chicks must be real boring," Richards closed his hatch as they continued to chat
over the comm. "I don't see it myself - I mean, what's the point of *living* if you don't have female
feminine dames around?"
"There ain't nuthin' like a dame?" Jinti chuckled. "Ain't that a song?"
"Yup, from South Pacific. Bit like the island down there."
"Well don't you go 'spectin' any hula-hula gals shimmyin' their stuff."
"No bloomin' chance of *that*," Richards grumped.
"Ya ready? Cuz we ain't got all day," Jinti was doing the more orthodox pre-flight checks now.
"I'm good."
"Y'okays, let's do this." Jinti taped her commbadge, "Hey, Zellers, we'z off fer a shifty now. Get
someone to open the 'bay doors yeah?"
Up on the bridge, Jadi Z'El gave Dennis Erendin a wave, "Let them out, Den."
The doors slid back and the forcefield shimmered against the inky blackness of space. The two shuttles
rose in near-perfect synchronisation as they lifted off, their noses facing the outside already. "I loves
this bit," Jinti sighed.
"Got over your disappointment at leaving BoB, then?" Richards stuck in a sly dig.
"Whut?" Jinti growled. "Who sez I wuz disappointed 'bout leavin' BoB? Huh? Youz imaginin' stuff."
"Better hope no hula-hula girls appear on BoB whilst we're gone, eh?" now he was safely in a separate
shuttle he could afford to tease. "Might be a treat for the lads, though.."
"Ya know I c'n beam into yer shuttle an' slap ya upside the head any time I likes..."
"Ah..."
"Now git out there.."
"I'm gittin, Chief. I'm gittin..."
The two shuttles shot through the forcefield and zoomed away from the Caledonia, heading into an
orbital descent angle. As they streamed through the various atmospheric strata, there was radio
silence, each pilot with his and her own thoughts.
For Richards, an amusing scenario whereby the sabotage on the monk's island was being committed by
a lost tribe of beautiful native women - all who could hula-hula dance with enough wiggle to make a
guy's eyes water - and who he would have to single-handily infiltrate and learn their ways before
persuading them.. in about two or three years time.. just why they should leave the monks alone.
For Jinti, it was an image of several hula dancers wandering around the corridors of BoB with bags over
their heads. Not that she was jealous or anything. But you couldn't be too careful. Then she realised
that the bags didn't even begin to cover the danger areas. "Dang," she muttered.
As the shuttles broke into the clear blue skies, below them the water silvered with dancing sun-tips,
and the small sliver of lush green peninsula looked as inviting as any tropical paradise she'd ever seen.
"Goin' fer a sneaky flyover?"
"I'm right behind you. Let's see what they're up to."
=/\= Civilian Landing Area, Starbase BoB =/\=
"Attention please, could all ships crews please maintain safe distance from docking bay doors, please
keep you belongings with you at all times and welcome to Starbase BoB" the announcements over the
pa system blared as hundreds of people milled around in the spotlights that were set up around the
departure/arrival area.
Lines had been set up where the Gamma shift crew were scanning the various lifeforms to ensure they
weren't bringing anything foreign onto the station. Snell had set up a temporary main desk and was
dealing with an irate traveller about the the fact that a collection of exotic plants with a tendency for
blood had somehow ended up in her luggage.
"Ma'am, you had better explain why I shouldn't burn these little pests. We have a unique environment
with natural balances on this station involving plants animals and barely humans." Snell warned her.
"But I need these for my son, he is needy for this. He is a doctor, he will explain." She tried to persuade
Snell using basic english.
"There is no medical reason for this plant type to be on our station. It's trying to take my coffee! Oi!"
Snell snatched his mocha from the creeping tentacle.
Having found his way back from the pitch black corridors of BoB, Quide decided to take a stroll along
the much busier, and therefore much better lit, docking areas. Among the general bustling he couldn't
help but notice a plant trying to abscond with a security officer's Liquid Sunrise. Apparently each
department had their own problems, and not all of them were blackout related.
Walking closer to the security desk, he realized that the officer in question was one he had yet to meet.
That wasn't too unusual, as there were lots of people on the station and he'd been fairly busy ever
since he arrived, but he thought it might be fun for him and a relief for the other to remedy that
sooner than later.
"Could y'use a break, sah?" he asked as he neared the desk.
"Oh god yes... Tr'al take over for a moment." Snell handed a PADD to the nervous security crewman.
"But do not let her bring that creature on the station. Fry it if you need to."
"Do y'think 'ee'll be all right by 'imself?" Quide asked, his voice indicating concern for the young
crewman. "That looks to be one vicious vegetable."
"He'll learn to sink or swim sooner or later. Anyway what's up?"
"Well, there's no better stress reliever than mindless destruction, y'know. So, I say we 'ead up to the
Valk flight deck and make use o the mint condition, classic stand up arcade style, 'olographic projection
screened model o Torpedo Commander contained therein."
"Well then bring it on. I've always wanted to mess around with one of those." Snell brightened up. His
sentence was concluded with the terrified squeals of the irate passenger followed by a phaser round
disintegrating the blood sucking plant.
Quide looked back to the encounter with curiosity, then minor concern. "Are y'sure y'can leave
though? There might be other, more deadlier salads just waiting to board the station."
Snell shrugged after surveying the scuffle between several burly security guards and the passenger. "It
doesn't seem to be out of control. So explain what is going to happen?
"Right then," Quide turned quickly away from the minor scuffle. "'Ere's the plan. We 'ead up and save
the galaxy a couple o times from the comfort o the pilot's lounge, knocking back a couple o drinks
while we're at it. Then, when we run out o the few bottles that are left up there, or when we get too
sloshed to manage the controls, we loose ourselves on the general population and find a good pub."
Trying to conceal a smile of relief Snell said, "You're a man of impeccable thinking, virtual games, grog,
and trouble making. Mind you I am a man of law and order. I would be required to take your wings and
ground them in the brig if you drink me under the table."
"No need to worry about that! On the off chance I get out o 'and, y'will be right there to do y'duty and
detain me, and if y'go into a booze-induced craze, I'll be there to laugh at y'antics until some o
y'security buddies arrive."
"You scamming bastard, its not even 10am and you've started haven't you?" Snell noticed the slouch
and slight attempt at steadiness of a fellow semi-abusive drinker.
Quide looked at Snell as though he had just made the most obvious observation imaginable. "Well, yes
I 'ave 'ad a few already. But I'll tell y'what - y'can 'ave the first bottle at the lounge so as to catch up a
bit! No fair, after all, me 'aving a 'ead start."
"Scotch?" Snell offered both Reid and Quide a hip flask hidden under his uniform.
"Oh well, that's rather sporting o y'sah, giving me more o a start," Quide said with a wide grin as he
accepted the flask.
A scuffle broke out as an alarm sounded when several burly Klingons got rowdy when they stepped
through the alarms. They had refused to take off their metal sashes. "Excuse me for a minute." Snell
stepped away. "I'll be back for the flask," he grinned.
"Take y'time," Quide called after him before taking swig after swig of the potent contents of the flask
and watching the goings on with the 'playful' Klingons.
Meanwhile, Snell had his head in a vice lock as three human security personnel tried to subdue a seven
foot tall Klingon. The scuffle ended as Snell received a black eye and several other men cleaned
themselves up. He headed back to the pilots, grinning. "Ready to go there? This headache and black
eye isn't gunna heal itself."
Not bothering to return the now empty flask, Quide spun toward the nearest turbolift. "Right! "I 'ave
just the medicine too. Just call me Dr. Tom Quide!"
=/\= The Final Frontier - USS Scramasax =/\=
"How close are we to the source of the distress signal?" Captain Svifelhelmendorn asked, fully reclined
in his chair and not even bother to look over at the comm station.
"Almost within visual range," the communications officer said, almost cheerfully. "Just a few seconds
and we can see whatever it is that may very well kill us."
"Lets keep our fingers crossed," the captain remarked with a roll of his eyes. "What are the scanners
showing?"
"A whole lot o nothin', cap'n," Scurve reported as he studied the sensor readings. "There be something
blockin' the scans from wherever that call be comin' from."
Commander Illa looked at the captain and she didn't even need to use a verbal cue to get her thoughts
across. Bjorn waved dismissively at her and took a deep, relaxing breath. "Yeah, I know, it could be a
trap. We'll be ready for anything."
"You look ready for a nap," S'kar grunted from her tactical station.
"I could do with one," Bjorn admitted as he turned on the back-massager function on his chair. The
vibrations it caused were so intense that the entire bridge began to shake. Fortunately it was sturdily
built, and the shaking wasn't too strong as to cause undo harm to the structure. "It's tiring work being
a leader of men. Besides, a nap is included in 'anything' after all, isn't it?"
"Inspirational," Commander Illa said with a half a raised eyebrow.
"Thank you, commander," Bjorn answered back, sounding wholly sincere and causing many a rolled
eye in the bridge.
"We be comin' up on the signal now, cap'n," Scurve brought the subject around again.
"On screen," the captain ordered, seeing fit to actually sit up in his chair - though he left the back
massager on.
What popped up on the view screen was a grizzly sight indeed.
"The signal is coming from a bear?" Bjorn asked skeptically.
"Sorry cap'n," Scurve said as he adjusted the screen. "Beta shift likes to watch that Animal Galaxy
channel. I think... there we go."
Upon Scurve's corrections, a vast wasteland of debris and blasted out ship parts appeared. Without
requiring a scan, it was obvious from the larger remaining pieces that there had been many ships
involved of many makes, models, and origins. Those larger sections were few and far between,
however, as most of the vessels had been blasted into bits too small to pick out from the mess with the
naked eye, and scattered out over a huge area that was slowly expanding as the bits drifted off, carried
by the inertia from the ship they used to belong to.
"And our scanners didn't pick up this giant mess because...?" Bjorn inquired irritably.
"One o the ships be givin' off a mess o radiation," Scurve said.
"How much radiation are we talking about?" the captain asked.
"A *mess* o radiation," McCaw 'clarified.'
Scurve, making an educated guess that McCaw's was hardly an acceptable explanation, chimed in
again. "Suffice it to say, cap'n, that we won't be goin' too deep into that ships' graveyard and comin'
back out again. Shielding or no."
"The signal is coming from the far edge," the comm officer sighed, clearly disappointed at the lack of
death-dealing in the general proximity.
Calling over his shoulder, Scurve added his two cents. "Scanners can't be getting a clear reading, but it
be lookin' like somethin' small. An escape pod maybe."
"It would be all the way out there, wouldn't it?" the captain grumbled, not seeming to register the
second comment. "It couldn't be the closest part, or even outside of that mess. Why is it always..."
While the captain continued to rant about the unfairness of the universe, S'kar cleared her throat and
got Commander Illa's attention. "There is a new problem, Commander. The reactor of the ship that is
spewing the radiation is highly unstable. It could explode at any time. Even at our current distance, we
aren't safe."
"Course, signal," Illa ordered.
"Quickest course around the radiation be plotted and engaged," Scurve confirmed.
"Didn't you hear the bit about the explosion?" the captain almost yelled. "We need to get out of here.
If there was anyone out there, the radiation might have already killed them."
"Examination required," Commander Illa rebutted.
Looking at her calmly, Bjorn spoke evenly, gesturing back toward the rest of the ship beyond the
bridge, then forward to the screen. "As there are no Vulcans on board, I'll say it for them. The needs of
the many outweigh the needs of the few, including anyone who may or may not be out there."
"Who needs to try to save any survivors?" S'kar asked before raising her hand. Her motion was
followed by the rest of the bridge staff, excluding the captain.
"The many," Illa intoned, slowly lowering her hand.
Bjorn looked increasingly perturbed. Despite the fact that he had yet to find a situation in which to
earn his crew's respect, he felt he deserved it by merit of his rank alone, if not his winning personality.
"Look, the only reason McCaw there raised his hand is because Scurve did, and the brooding kid only
wants to go because he thinks we might die. Besides which, this isn't a democracy! I am responsible for
this ship and its crew..." An unspoken 'and myself' hung in the air. "And though it might seem harsh,
we just can't risk-"
"Not to interupt another one o yer fine rants, cap'n, but while we was votin' we've got close enough to
the signal's source to pick up a life sign through the interference. Another few kilometers and we
should be able to get a transporter on them."
All eyes were on the captain, and he looked back at them. The feeling was they were ready to listen to
him now, but he could only see one course of action that might get him a small bit of the respect he
felt was due to him already. "Hurry up then Scurve. S'Kar, I want you to watch that reactor like a... well,
like a Klingon watching something that they're expecting to blow up."
"We do enjoy a good detonation now and then," she agreed, her eyes glued on the tactical readouts.
"Transporter room three," he called down. "Prepare to beam aboard a potentially injured party directly
to sick bay. Medical staff, make ready for radiation poisoning... and whatever else. You know, the
unexpected... expect it."
"The reactor is destabilizing," S'kar said, the slightest hint of concern in her voice.
"Transporter room, are we close enough?" the captain called down again.
^Yes sir, but we don't have the power. We don't know where it's going!^
^Engineering, captain,^ Another voice cut in. ^Turn off your damn chair! I told you that thing drains the
reserves something fierce!^
Quickly complying, causing the entire bridge to stop its constant shaking, the captain attempted to
save face by making no further mention of it. "Transporter room, energize."
^We got him, mon^ the debatably witchy doctor called up from the sickbay.
"Shields up! Scurve get us out of here!"
"Aye cap'n!"
The entire bridge staff held on to their consoles as the Scramasax warped out of the area, preparing
themselves for the oncoming explosion. A couple of seconds passed at a snail's pace, then a few more,
then a minute. Grips loosened on consoles, and the captain began drumming his fingers on the arm of
his chair.
"Where was my dramatic escape?" he asked, not even turning to look at S'kar.
The Klingon officer didn't say anything, and kept watch on her readouts for a moment. At length, she
spoke up. "There it goes. Cleared the whole area. A glorious sight!"
After a long moment of thought, the captain turned to Commander Illa. "I'll forget you taking charge
like that if you back me up when I report that we just barely escaped, riding right in front of a massive
shock wave that set the ship reeling."
There was a hint of a smile on Illa's face and a nod that was nigh imperceptible. "Agreed."
=/\= SB BoB Darkside =/\=
Dhillon was lurking and loitering. As best you could with the lights out. He had this sneaking suspicion.
Even bigger, and sneaker than him. Perhaps he was being paranoid. Perhaps he had been smoking a
little bit too much of the ol' wacky baccy. His eyes shifted uneasily from side to side as he stalked the
corridor. That perhaps someone or something were watching him.
Perhaps he could go again. Have another go. He had found plenty of willing accompalices in the
recessess of Darkside. All more than happy to take his money and have a good time. A good time, that
is, on his terms. Yes, he would at times speak out of turn. His phrasing was insulting. But it wasn't his
fault. Weren't his fault that they were well too timid for their own good. That not one of them had the
decency to stand up to him. What on earth was he paying them for?
Had he wanted a simple minded, simpering bit on the side, he could have tail gated back to earth.
Dhillon was at a loss. This was BoB. He had thought that every thing that moved here was a bit on the
wild side.
That one. The one not too long ago. She hada rather sweet smile. And that was about it. He had even
left a tip, hoping to encourage her. But he wouldn't be bak, not to here. He'd find some other forlorn
soul. He liked that way. Gave him a bit more leverage for push and pull. Some even liked it that way.
How could he refuse not provide for them in return for they provided?
The world was a warped places. And within it all had a place. There was a time and a place.
Occasionally, things would go his way. He just had to pay for it to make it happend. Not everyone was
like Arihana. He realised that. May be she was a bit misguided in her 'me me me' attitude. She was
irritating, and so impervious to an insult and injury, It made his head spin.
Dhillons steps quickened. Something was out there. And it was heading towards him. He inhaled one
last drag, before tossing a filter top to the side.
"There' he is! Grab 'im."
He broke into a sprint and darted. No idea why, or what they wanted. Dhillon just pegged it.
"Dhillon Havane. Stop!"
"Ah, go whistle," he turned mid spring to offer the one finger salute. Tripping but getting himself
together to continue.
"Bastard, where'd he think can go. Cut him off that way."
He was running still.Running into a dead end. As he ran straight into a wall.
"Idiot, where's he running to. Stand still, will you. You, you're nothing short of vermin."
Dhillon snarled as he was helped up, his face pressed hard against the wall. "Got nothing to say to
you," he muffled, shaking away the hand that suppressed him.
"We got that any force necessary remit, aint we?" asked one of the lesser security crewers. "Can I lamp
him, might make Gigi's day."
"You dare, I'll sue," growled Dhillon.
"You don't half grumble like a girl," the second stated, slipping on the assailants wrist a set of
handcuffs. "You. Son, are nicked. Let's take him in. Let Baxter know we got a life one. C'mon, girly,
move."
Dhillon was trussed and trestled, two security beings clamped either side of him as he was walked to
the brig. He landed with a thud as he was hurled into a cell whilst someone looked for a would be
custody sergeant. he was not happy. Not one bit.
=/\= Bostons' Tudor Room =/\=
"Oi! Keep it clean," she hissed it with a chuckle to mask it, "But yes, possibly." Would probably be the
case, Arihana wasn't going to lie. She had already googled something close. Involved corsetry and if
you could still breathe, there was a high likehood of a wardrobe malfunction. Everything was laced up
and out. All very historically accurate that way. And since it had worked for Anne Boleyn.....
"I can't wait to see that," he said. "Maybe I will be Henry VIII - younger years."
"As long as there's not any Other Boleyn Girl," she said quietly. "Whatever floats yer boat," Arihana
commented.
"No Other Boleyn Girl," he said. "I prefer the original."
He turned her toward him. "Want to sit on the bed?" he asked, looking anything but like an archangel.
"Ooh, I don't like that," Arihana shook her head and spoke with mock disdain, "For a chap who is called
Archangel, you got the devil in your eyes." Then she shrugged, and got to her feet, "But since you
asked, race you."
Boston had reached forward to adjust his tea cup and saw the backside of Arhihana heading for the
bed. He hurried after her, also skipping the steps and bouncing hard when he hit the mattress.
Arihana had bypssed the stairs, and more or less clambered backwards onto the highed raised bed to
land flat on her back and grumble. "Ouf, it's not as soft as it looks. Guess Henry and friends didn't
actually sleep in these things. Would explain a lot." Reaching out a hand, she figured that Boston was
around some place. Slowly, a hand was trailed up an arm, towards a shoulder, a rather nice well toned
shoulder, about which there would be no complaints. Eventually, her fingers were laced through his
hair.
"Amazingly enough," Boston said, "the bed has controls. We can make it much softer.nOw your
reputation is ruined. You're in bed with a rock star."
"If the world and his wife ever find out, that you've got a bit on the side," Arihana whispered. "I'd have
one thing to tell them. That I'm no WAG, so they needn't worry about their Archangel getting his halo
tarnished."
"I think quite a few would love to tarnish my halo themselves," he suggested. "How are you as wife and
girlfriend?"
"Wife and girlfriend," she replied, propping herself up, and the rotation of it, turning Boston into the
position she had just occuped. "I am a rubbish wife," she said in between kissing his neck and sliding
very cold hands under neath his shirt. "And Im not much good as a girlfriend." That last bit was only
half true. She had never been a a girlfriend very long in any case. This was different. She wasn't about
to go traipsing down the aisle anytime soon. That only left her with one option, and she didn't mind it
one bit.
"I might wanna shut up about now," said the bit on the side, her lips descending on his again.
Rock star hands were beginning to explore as well. "Keep talking," he said. "If you don't, I'll end up
saying 'you don't have to do anything you don't want to do' and 'what's your sign?'"
"You dare!" she replied. "Humour me, what's your sign, then?"
"Aries," he added.
"Oh, snap, we're doomed," Arihana said not giving much credence to the whole thing. This was not
Romeo and Juliet. If they were to be star-crossed, so be it, Who was she to argue?
The hands had found uniform buttons. "I think our lives are about to take a turn for the better," he
said, kissing her.
***
The heavy, quilted eiderdown was lifted momentarily. "You found the plumped up mounds then?" the
question was posed as though she didn't know the answer.
"Yes," Boston said. "I've found them to be quite satisfactory by the way."
"Just don't tell anyone that it's all an optical illusion," Arihana said, sitting up, and pulling up the
eiderdown. "To the knowing eye. It's seventy per cent padding."
"You fooled me," he said grinning.
"I have this horrible feeling," she started, coiling her hair up. "That I am meant to be some place."
Arihana was trying to search her mental diary.
"I think you were going back to work an hour or so ago," Boston said.
"To put this politely,"Arihana was in the throes of a brain wave, "Get off!" She prised Boston and away
and leapt of the bed.Sending the covers flying. "I think I've just missed therapy sessions, and my son
needs to get home. There's gonna be trouble."
"Don't panic," he said. "We'll get you out of here in good time."
He got off the bed, stubbed his toe on something and moaned.
Arihana squinted around in the dark. "Okay,Boston. Where'd you throw my knickers?" she asked
scrabbling o find the rest of her clothes.
"Let me get one of those sparklers," he muttered. "No, wait, here they are." He grabbed them off the
large sculpture and handed them to where her voice was coming from.
"Thank you," she snatched them clean from his grasp and headed towards the yellow hued screen in
the corner. "You had me worried for a moment, can't be going around commando."
"Certainly not," Boston said, looking for his own clothtes. That shoe was too small. He kept looking.
"I don't know why I'm behind the screen," Arihana replied, trying to get various bits of clothes on. "I've
clearly read too many Tudor court novels. Just occupy yourself for a moment. Dita Von Teese this aint.
It's all a bit backwards."
"I hope you can see what you're doing," Boston said. "I'm having some difficulty finding my shirt."
"I'm missing buttons, Boston Zaire. What were you thinking?" She was now hopping around trying to
get her socks on. Her shoes were somewhere out there still. "Well, you weren't thinking. There's three
missing. If I get done for not being in appropriate uniform. I'm blaming you." Arihana returned from
behind the screen, hoping to find her boots.
"I've got your shoes, boots, whatever they are," Boston said, moving toward her with boots in hand.
"They didn't fit me. Don't you have any spare buttons we can sew on? The others are probably on the
floor. I'd hate to see you arrested. Maybe you should just stay here."
He dropped the boots. "Come on, Arihana," he said. "Just a little more time."
"Oh, don't pull faces at me," a finger was waggled at the pleading eyes. "I know I can't stay, you know I
can't stay. Pack it in." She found her boots underneath a pair of trousers, not hers, and a shirt. Also not
hers. Arihana sat on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling, to do battle with her boots.
"Hey, you found my clothes," he said, reaching for them and her shapely legs dangling so near.
"Don't." Arihana stated it bluntly, and reinforced it with an index finger. Before Boston came too close
and triggered a rematch. "Until next time," she smiled to turn and face him.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" he asked, getting into his pants.
"I'll see ya."
He quickly reached and grabbedher waist, kissing whatever came closest to his lips before she slipped
away again.
"Just something to keep you interested," he added
"Very nice. But I gotta go. Auf Wiedersen, Boston."
He listened as she headed out the door.
"Until we meet again," he whispered.
=^= BoB - Counselling =^=
Boston Zaire was making progress. He'd contacted his agent and his band and he'd started picking out
the songs he wanted to perform. He'd also been in touch with Cdr. Mattingly and would have his
security people work with BoB security.
Right now, he was making his way along the corridor with his bodyguard and her husband, both
holding rather nice lights. His props were back in his quarters. He might need them later.
Arriving in counselling, he approached the woman he'd met very briefly before.
"Hello," he said. "Is Cdr. Dharma in and would she happen to have a couple of mintues?"
"Oh, hello," Avril was stumped again to see Archangel. Here. In counselling. "She's actually out. On a
job."
"Will she be long?" Boston asked giving Avril his million dollar smile.
"No, she hasn't gone far, erm," Avril smiled coquettishly. "Counsellor Dharma was in science, with a
pending investigation. She's probably due another tea break. I'm sure she wouldn't mind an
interruption."
"Then we'll just head over there," he said, nodding at his bodyguards who were holding up lights.
"Unless we'd be in the way?"
"Oh, Archangel," Avril was her giggly self, as she called to the door. "She's a tea drinker, so you'll need
some choccy fingers or some jammy dodgers."
Boston looked back. "I'll remember that," he said. "Lead on men!"
In science, Arihana was collating an incident file. Data was being downloaded and ordered so as ensure
that security had enough to use on Dhillon once they caught up with. She was crotchety. This whole
thing made her feel frazzled and ill at ease. The chances were that he was out there, doing this all
again. The workbench was tidied up. All hard copies were stacked together into an archive box. The
screens were switched off.
She pressed her hands onto the worksurface and sighed.
The doors opened and new light shown onto the science lab. "Counsellor?" a voice called.
"Hello?" she glanced over her shoulder to see what the interruption was.
Boston came around the bend and smiled at her. "Can I tempt you?"
"I was working, but I'm done. Can I help?" Arihana turned around fully. Hoping that this was a suitable
distraction.
"You certainly can," he said. "I understand it's time for tea and I have choccy fingers and jammy
dodgers." He nodded to the bodyguards who held packages.
"It is yes," Arihana looked at the packet of jammy dodgers. She remembered when they used to be
Strawberry flavoured. The confectionary was now Raspberry flavoured, but would have to do.
"I'm here to whisk you away to a quiet place where you can tell me how to get a 'yes' from the
captain," Boston said.
"A yes?" She asked, wandering over to the female bodyguard and asking for the Jammy Dodgers.
"For the concert," he added.
"Shouldn't be a problem, you'll ask nicely," replied the counsellor, now turning to the other bodyguard
for the choccy fingers.
"And how to get a yes from you as well," he said.
"Haven't I already said yes, I mean,whaffor?" Arihana frowned.
"For later," he added. "Seriously do you have time for a break?"
"I do," she nodded. "I need one, in all seriouness. Is it me, you and the gate post, or do we have
company," she asked sliding her glance towards the two guards.
Boston grinned. "My bodyguards," he said. "Sometimes fans get a little wild, so I hired my husbandwife team to keep track of me. They're here now because they thought I'd burn down the base with
my sparkles. They'll vanish once we're settled and they do make good torch bearers."
"Well, you lead, I shall follow, you said there was tea?" Arihana kept hold of the two packets of
biscuits.
"Yes, tea, lots of tea," he said. "I thought we'd go to my apartment, if you don't mind."
"I'm not in the best of moods, Boston," she answered. "Don't be expecting all sweetness and light. At
least not immediately. It'll pass." She stayed by the door a moment to secure the evidence. She was
taking no chances at it being misplaced.
Boston led the way then, by walking beside her and letting his bodyguards really lead. They arrived at
his rooms in good time. Boston had spent a great deal of money to come up with a nice chunk of BoB
sleeping quarters. He'd combined several. The bodyguards went in, set up the lighting and then
disappeared for some quality time of their own.
"What's wrong with your mood?" Boston asked as he brought in the tea, cups, milk, sugar and two
plates.
"I just had to deal with something unsavoury, that's all," Arihana said with a shrug. "But what can I do
for you?" she was holding onto the biscuits for dear life. She was in need of a significant sugar rush.
Boston passed the plates. "Open, eat," he said. He continued to watch her with a worried look on his
face, then said, "I've met the chief of security. He seemed quite willing to work with us on security and
getting a good place for the concert and party. I'm sure he also was thinking it would be a nightmare."
"Bax is lovely," she smiled, "Always accomodating. As long as you act within reason, he's your friend for
life. Unless you plan to bootleg chocolate. Then you're screwed."
Boston laughed. "I'm not all that fond of chocolate," he said. "My weakness is butterscotch. What
about the captain, though? I have to get permission for this whole thing and I'd better do it soon."
"The Captain is an entirely different kettle of fish," she conceded. "She prides herself on being
respected both as a person, and as an extension of the uniform she wears. That doesn't mean you
kowtow before her like some snivelling whatsit. Then she really will squish you like a bug."
"Got it," Boston said. "I can handle respectful behavior. Aren't I always respectful with you?"
"For the best part," shrugged Arihana. "We'll know if we ever cross swords."
"Do you think I should wait until the lights get back on?" he asked. "It seems rather idiotic to approach
her now when she must have so much going on."
"You do as you see fit," she answered, her mood was no lighter still. So much so it was tken out on the
biscuits as they were opened.
He poured the tea, tried to grab of choccy finger and then took his hand back after he received a look
of warning.
"Now tell me what's bothering you," he said.
"I'd rather not," she returned, snapping a chocolate finger and dipping into tea.
"Arihana," Boston said, "if we're gonna get anywhere, we've got to talk. I have nubile young bodies
thrown at me on a daily basis and you probably do, too. I want more than that."
Arihana looked at Boston. Several formulaic answers were going through her head. "I've just identified
a feckwit of a suspect in an ongoing investigation. The sooner he's apprehended, the happier I will
eventually be." She closed her eyes to sight. "Sorry. I should leave my professional issues at the
door,"Arihana omitted the personal aspect and picked up her cup.Some day she would tell him. In the
future. Just not today. "It's not fair when all you're trying to do is help."
"You need me," he said. "I'm going to buy the factory that makes choccy fingers and jammy dodgers."
"It's just me and my professional outlook," Arihana smiled to gobble up the twp halves of the chocolate
finger. "Sometimes, I have to strop. Like when you are composing or writing."
"I'm slightly impossible then," Boston admitted. "I understand."
Reaching for a jammy dodger, Arihana pulled apart the two halves of the biscuit before setting one half
next to her cup. "About those nubile bodies."
He grinned.
"You can do what you like, within the limits of your own conscience." she said crunching on the half a
biscuit and washing it down with tea.
"I can have any number of nubile young bodies any day," he said. "It's yours I want."
There was frown across the counsellors' brow and and an inclination towards second thoughts.
"I'm not sure that came out properly," Boston admitted. "You, too, have a nubile young body - at least
your arms look good."
He got up and pushed a button, sending soft music floating through the room.
"Is this the whisking away?" Arihana asked, somewhat more positive. "Or is there more than tea and
biscuits involved?" she was curious as she would much rather be here than back in the lab.
"I thought I'd show you my apartment," he said.
"Looks all right from here." She commented looking up and then around.
"Grab the fingers and come with me for a minute," Boston said, holding out his and confusing the issue
as to what fingers he wanted her to grab.
Arihana flexed hers first then and the chocolate ones.
Boston showed her the kitchen, a closed door that was where the bodyguards made their home, a
formal dining area, a cozy library with a window seat looking out on nowhere and a fireplace, a room
devoted to practicing with musical instruments, another smaller room that was a mess. "It's where I
compose," he said.
Then there was an entertainment room with big comfortable couches and tables to place snacks and
drinks. A very large screen dominated the area. The suite had three bathrooms; one was the
bodyguards'; one had a giant tub and the third had a large shower.
Concluding the tour was one guest bedroom decorated in 18th century style. The last door was his
room. Boston opened it.
He was grinning fiercely. "What do you think? I had it redone yesterday."
The room looked like something out of Tudor England - huge bed, wooden steps to get into it, another
fireplace and what might have been BoB's most uncomfortable chairs had a survey been taken.
"Heheehee, oh my giddy aunt," Arihana looked around and clapped her hands together.
"I've already banged my shin twice on that thing," he said, pointing to a life-size statue of a hunting
dog.
"Hmm, I bet," She cast her eye towards it slowly.
His arm slid around her waist. His lips brushed her cheek.
"No rush," he said. "I thought you might like it though."
"Oh, I do," she smiled to drap her arms around his neck.
"Arihana," Boston said, "I'm not a very good lover."
Her nose wrinkled, "Sweetie, you might not want to disclose that yet, given where we're standing," she
said it with half a measure of wile. Would she have to check, was this a try before you buy sorta deal.
"Oh I suppose in bed I'm as normal as any man, but I meant I'm hard to live with. I can get grouchy,
stubborn and annoying, especially when I've got a schedule to meet on my songs or if things go wrong
with the band. I'm a perfectionist with my music. Speaking of pains, my band can be a giant pain in the
neck. There's five of them and they're all opinionated artists. I had a girlfriend leave me once because
she couldn't stand them. I guess I wasn't broken-hearted because I didn't make her the offer I'm
making you. If they drive you crazy, tell them to shove off."
He kissed her.
And she enjoyed it, but once their lips had parted. She was able to smile a bit more easily. "You're
making a difficult choice, and I'm not making you do it."
"What I'm trying to say is, we may have some rough road now and then, but there are a couple of
things I can assure you. I won't cheat, I'll never raise a hand against you and I'll treat your child as if he
were my own. The first part's the most important because it will sure look like I'm cheating when I'm
on tour or performing. Any other odd things you wnat to know about me?"
"I think you've covered the best part of a ball park," she replied. There was just something about this
room. She rather liked it. "But please don't give that speech again, with the whole 'Arihana, I won't
make you do anything you don't want to' theme. I'm a big girl, and it's just a waste of breath for
someone you've known only five minutes.." Arihana wasn't about to add that ex-husband number two
had given her that spiel, and the rest was history.
"I don't recall ever saying that to a woman," Boston said. "I feel like I've known you a long time, but
since it's really only been a short time, let's have some more tea and you can tell me about your family.
Are your parents around?"
"I have brother, a father, an extended family from here to other side of earth." She replied, though she
as actually debating internally about the speed at which she could get up those stairs..."My mother
ceased to exist some years ago."
Boston led them back to the living room wondering why he'd asked that. If she asked him questions,
what did he say? He was going to have t come up with a Zaire family. It just wasn't the time to tell her
about pre-Boston, not yet; if things worked out, yes. Now, no
Arihana curled her lip, and scratched her ear. "I rather liked it in there," she waggled her finger towards
the room. "But what about you?" she picked up the tea arrangement, and tucked the jammy dodgers
under her arm. "In there. By the fire."
"Sounds good to me," Boston said. "I wasn't sure how I'd like it, but you know, it's pretty nice. I think I'll
keep it that way." He avoided the family question.
"You are a man after my own heart," she dumped herself by the hearth, but the crockery was
positioned with a bit more care. "I do like the decor. So, yes," she had noticed the denseness of his
taciturn response. "Do you really want to tell me about your family, or perhaps you'd rather whisper
sweet nothings into my ear, hmm?"
"My family hasn't paid any attention to me in years," Boston said. "I think I'd rather whisper sweet
nothings."
He moved over so he was sitting very close.
"I can deal with sweet nothings," she nodded, with a child like expression that wore feigned innocence
in wide eyes. "This room," she waved her finger around. "Can do that to a girl. And the day I've had...."
"Think of it no more," Boston said, his lips moved along her neck. An arm went around her and drew
her closer. "It's rather nice the lights went out, isn't it?"
"All very..."she was desperately trying to think of an alternative synonym for romantic, but she was
slowly losing her train of thought.
A hand moved down her back. "Is your costume going to be one of those with the low bodice and two
plump mounds showing?"
"Oi! Keep it clean," she hissed it with a chuckle to mask it, "But yes, possibly." Would probably be the
case, Arihana wasn't going to lie. She had already googled something close. Involved corsetry and if
you could still breathe, there was a high likehood of a wardrobe malfunction. Everything was laced up
and out. All very historically accurate that way. And since it had worked for Anne Boleyn.....
=^= SB BoB - Hathaway Primary school =^=
The doctor was schedule for profession day at the local primary school. The teacher had strongly
suggested to be there even if it was pitch black. He was happy to be in contact with children that were
in full health and that were interested by the medical professions. He wasn't stupid, kids didn't want
long speech on medical procedures or to be told to eat their vegetable so he brought a bunch of
disgusting stuff for them to see...well at least touch.
As he cross the door, someone directed him to the class he push forward to see that the school and
classrooms were well equip in light he them pull in his trolley full of different equipments. "Good
afternoon kids" he said seeing Suraj in the back.
"Good morning" the teacher answered followed by the kids.
"Alright, I've been ask to come here and talk about my profession. Doctors are needed and may seem
dull at times but we actually do fun stuff anf make sure that other people are living a fullfilling life but
fixing their problems." he took a breath "Instead of boring you ,. I thought I would show you" the
teacher kind look at him with a eye that was cold and very serious, they almost said, you're not
following the plan.
Suraj was indeed lurking at the back. He was paying close attention, as he had a morbid fascination
with horrible science.
"My first experiment is about smoking" he took out pig lungs that were pink "You see those are healthy
lung, we each have a set, the lung have three lobes, the high, middle and lower lobes. The have also
Bronchus and blood vessels going in them transporting oxygen and CO2. That why you breath, you
inhale oxygen and push out carbonate dioxide."
"Woah, jargon," commented the five year old. Suraj had his tongue poking out of the cornor of his
mouth as he created a crayola sketch in a notepad.
"Now" putting those down he lifted up another set that were black and in bad shape. A piece even fell
to the ground "oups" he made a face to apologise to the teacher "This kids is what happen when you
smoke. You slowly kill your lungs. The Tar block the Bronchus and the blood vessels and slowly your
lung dies. So don't smoke!"
"We'se got brains, Doc," Suraj piped up. "Well, some of us. Cool experi-thingy-whatsit though," he
grinned.
"Cool? Are you?" he ask with a serious face.
"Nah, I aint doing no sciency thing," Dharma junior shook his head. "It's all good, but not for me. Why
did you do it?" Suraj and the rest of the class from the Infant section wandered over to ta cosy area
filled with bean bags.
"Why did I became a doctor" looking at the teacher for support as she turn away with a smile...the
little b***h.
"So you a doctor, and part of the mil'tree too?" Suraj was curious. A self elected spokesman as the rest
of the class simply awed and ahhed. His teacher sat in the corner, and simply smirked. He was able to
carry on whilst Suraj took the class for him.
"Mil'tree?" he had no clue of what to answered.
"Don't that get a bit mixed up though.My mum said," Suraj landed his rear end down on a cushion.
"That you have to make a promise. A hip Hop hip thing."
"Yes, you always have to be good to your word" he smile
"What does that mean?" he asked, hugging a cushion.
"That you have to be honest and follow your promises..Every doctor took a promise of helping anyone
that needs it"
"Does that include 'orrible, need a punch in the gob, bad guys?" Suraj was everything and precocious.
"Everyone, even the bad guys. I try to help everyone that need or want to see me."
"Ah, right," nodded Dharma junior. "My mum says that too."
"What else does your mom say about doctors?" now curious and hoping to get some info by the back
door.
"That you work hard," replied Suraj. "That you don't got an easy job, that no one here does. You're a
fairly cool kinda chap. You gotta be," he looked around at his classmates. "You know, i was dying,
about to pop, and this man," Siuraj was crowing almost. "This man, more or less brought me back. So
he's a bit cool, innit."
There was a spontanous round of applause from the five and six year olds.
"No applause is necesarry it my job" he bow "happy to be here".
"If you could, what else would you have done? Instead of being a doctor." Suraj was trying to make this
work, no one was actually making notes, but just listening.
"I'll would had love to do wine"He smile almost lost in his dream "But Bob is my place".
"BoB's home though," Suraj smiled to look around. "I like it. I keep getting back here, no matter where
my parents run."
"I see" not knowing what the running was all about.
"All right then children," the teacher had finally got with the programme. "Your parents and guardians
should be here shortly. Another round of applause for the doctor please, for giving us his time."
The kids did as they were told, if they didn't have Suraj paying the chords, it was the staff.
The doctor pilled up his equipment and look for Suraj to say goodbye..
Suraj waited and picked up his rucksack from the rack.He figured his mother would turn up eventually.
"You waiting?" he move beside him "Want me to wait with you?"
"I'll just wait, she'll be here soon," he smiled as he told the Doctor. "It's either work, or the new friend
she's got. Trying to show him around, I think. Get him settled into BoB."
"cool" he didn't want to peek to her personal life through the kid, he decided that it was against his
value.
"He's a nice chap," nodded Suraj. "A rock star, does a lot of singing," he beamed. "And my mum hasn't
told him to go 'way yet. I happy!" Although he shrugged, Suraj was young enough not to realise what
he was saying.
Values? what were they again? "what is name?"
"Something Angel, or Boston, I dunno," said the boy, frowning.
At that very moment, his mother turned up. Like some scalded cat, who was in a hurry. She was, and
dashed like a mad thing to get here.
"Oh, great, you're still here. I thought I you'd be left alone-"Arihana stopped panicing to see that he
wasn't. "'Ello, Doc, you all right?" she asked, passing a hand through her sons' hair.
"I'm fine , profession day...it was interesting" he smile at her.
"Oh, good," she nodded, "Corrupting the youth of tomorrow is a good thing."
"Merrm, you got buttons missing," Suraj stated, he even counted. "Three of them."
"Ye-eah, babe, they fell off," Arihana replied, a rehearsed statement. "Need new uniform."
"Rght," nodded Suraj. Convinced.
"Right" he repeated with the biggest grin he had "hard day work counsellor?"
"Erh, just the usual," replied the counsellor. "Running around, trying to stop people losing their heads."
"Me and Suraj were just speaking about how nice you are to the new arrivals to the station. Private
tour, making sure their confortable on the station even some private counselling sessions" he keep his
smile "a model for our youth"
Arihana frowned, though the smile remained in place."Yeah, well, that's what my job is. So I have to,"
she manouvered Suraj towards her and then by her side. "Or do you know something I don't?" Arihana
arched a brow. "Suraj, get yourself signed out. I'll be two seconds."
"Right, okay," Suraj looked at the both, before skedaddling away towards the electronic register.
"So, do you, know something I don't, about what my job involves?" Arihana was doing her best not
sounded annoyed. Especially since she had thought they were making such progress lately.
He looked, he did know if he it was a good idea to answer.
"Didn't think so," Arihana nodded. "Which is why, you're the doctor and I'm the therapist. If you want
to know what I do round the clock, just ask. I've got nothing to hide. I'll give you my diary, if you want."
"Look, I didn't mean anything by it"
"Tell you what," she made her way towards the exit. "Find a space in *your* diary, then we can have a
proper chat," Arihana said turning. "Rather than just making loaded statements. Ask me properly, with
a straight question. I may just tell you the truth. I'll see ya," she gave a nod before leaving after Suraj.
He walk behind her and softly turn her around "I do apologise if I hurt you by my comment, they were
attended as a joke which onviously didn't fine funny. That being said, 'll leave you to your business
whatever that is. I think it would be better if we didn't socialise for a while" he pass his hand in Suraj
hair "Thake care bud" turn around and started walking with his equipment.
"Bye,"Arihana scratched her ear. "Something I said?" She enquired of Suraj.
"Probably," replied Suraj. "You do have *that* knack with people, mum."
"Thank, sweetie, I love you too," tutted the boys' mother.
He was piss, first at himself, he shouldn't have ask. He never got into someone else business if it wasn't
their health. Second if she couldn't joke about her fallen button that obviously lost in a encounter. It
didn't matter she had her life he had his...
"Men are such strange creatures." Commented the counsellor, her hand being tugged up and dow as
she and Suraj walked home.
"The Doctor, your friend or Boston, or the whole lot, 'cause don't forget me," chirped Suraj.
Arihana shrugged, following Suraj in a life. "So, whatdyer do today, kid?" she asked as the doors closed.
=/\= Shuttles Copernicus & Queen Nefertiti - Over Deva Loka =/\=
"Wheeeeee..." Jinti was in good spirits as the two shuttles swooped down over the peninsula, angling
for a flyover of the monks' dome.
"Shhh.." Richards cautioned, "They'll be at their contemplations now."
"Oh hush yerself, ya twonk. How're they gonna hear me from inside a shuttle, huh? Jeez, an; it's usually
*me* that sez daft stuff."
"Uh, yeah..okay.." Richards went into 'Doh!' mode.
"I c'n see the dome right below, slow down and let's fly over all nice an' quiet. Mebbe they won't see
us."
"Chief, they're looking upwards. How can they *fail* to see us?"
Now it was Jinti's turn to 'Doh!"
The pastoral sight would have been quite unexpected in any circumstances. In the central area of the
monks' compound, a hundred Brothers sat on the circle of seats, all facing outwards, their faces turned
upwards to the sky. Jinti and Richards weren't flying close enough to see if the eyes followed them, but
the two shuttles hovered like large craneflies over the dome, so couldn't be missed.
"Whut d'you reckon they actually *do*?" Jinti asked. "I mean, they'z jist sittin' there, thinkin', ain't
they?"
"Not all of them..." Richards was looking around the circle. "There's two seats empty."
"Didn't one of 'em die or sumthin'? Mebbe they ain't got a replacement yet?"
"Maybe, yeah," Richards shrugged. "But that doesn't explain the other empty stool. From what the
Captain said, I got the impression that *everyone* down there had to attend the contemplation
sessions."
Jinti took the 'Titty a little higher, feeling a little too obvious now. "Or p'raps they ain't operatin' on full
strength anyways. They said a hundred but that might be give 'er take a couple. Or p'raps someone's
feelin' ill or sumthin'."
"Worth mentioning though, yeah?" Richards asked.
"Oh yeah, we'll tell the cap'n. She c'n ask that head honcho. It's not like someone could sneak off,
elsewise the guys next to him would notice. But tell ya whut, we could come back at midnight an'
check again."
"Midnight flying.." Richards gave a reminiscent sigh. "And not having to keep our eyes open for
Ha'agen."
"It'll be peaceful an' relaxin'. sure 'nuff. Now how's about we get inta search pattern, yeah? Like we
planned."
"Roger that," Richards turned the 'Nickers northwards, heading for the tip of the long thin peninsula
island. "It's a bit freaky, isn't it, all that water? I mean, if we went too far from the island and ran into
difficulty there just wouldn't be *any* land to set down on."
"I know," Jinti had joined him. "Pretty damn good from a security point of view, ain't it? If'n they got
folks sneakin' around then the sneakies can only be on the island, an' no-where else. Looks nice down
there."
"I wonder if they allow sunbathing?" Richards grinned. "The beaches are only narrow but they sure are
remote and idyllic. Skinny dipping at midnight!"
"Jeez, I ain't goin' skinny-dippin'," Jinti yelped. "Youz got it all to yerself, nudie-boy."
Richards just chuckled as he relayed in the co-ordinates of the search pattern they arranged. "Okay
Chief, you set off and Ill follow counter-clockwise, search grids one through five."
"Got it," Jinti manoeuvred the 'Titty lower downwards. "I knowz we'ze s'posed to be searchin' but I
sure don't know quite whut we'z s'posed to be searchin' *for*."
"Lifesigns, masked or otherwise. Footprints in the sand. Fires, evidence of someone living rough..."
Richards recited. "Maybe anomalies, anything that doesn't add up."
"Yeah, yeah, I know *that*. I jist mean, I dunno whut we'z expected ta *find*."
"We'll known when we see it, I suppose," Richards was in philosophical throttle.
"I'z hungry. I'm breakin' out the Tunnocks," was the only philosophy he got back from Jinti, as the
shuttles began a steady patrol.
=^= Somewhere BoB =^=
It was like stumbling around in the dark. Actually, it was stumbling around in the dark. Baxter Mattingly
was not only doing his security check, but also trying to see if hundreds of screaming fans would fit in
storage hold 95X1845R, commonly called "The Great Expanse."
It was impossible to tell with his limited lighting, which consisted of five security guards with
flashlights.
"I see it over here," Baxter said. "That's where the stage can go. We can station security throughout
the bleachers."
"Bleachers, Commander?" the Klingon asked.
"Yes, engineering is going to make them," Baxter said. "I understand Mr. Zaire has been making
arrangements in a somewhat speedily fashion. His 'people' seem to know exactly what is needed to
survive one of these things, so I'm letting them tell me what they need. This will be my first rock
concert."
"You've never gone to one?" the Klingon asked. "It is a great way to learn battle skills."
"Don't tell me," Baxter said. "I like my music in elevators."
The team moved around checking here and there, making notes on a master PADD and putting up big
taped X's to mark security stations.
"I also understand," Baxter continued, "that we're to let a small amount of screaming females get close
to the stage, but that the Zaire people will handle that portion. There's a fine line between allowing
some access and mauling."
"Understandable, Sir," said the female of the group. "Have you seen him? He's so gorgeous and that
voice of his is heavenly."
"I've failed to ascertain that," Baxter replied with a vague smile.
She looked at him as if he were from another planet, which he was.
"I'm also handing out mandatory ear plugs for all of us," Baxter continued.
The guards smiled with appreciation.
"Now let's get back to patrol," he said. "Want to make sure there aren't any things that go bump in the
night."
With that the security team, left the Great Expanse. As Baxter stepped outside, he had a funny feeling.
He looked at his arms. Goosepimples. He turned around and stared into the dark. How odd.
....In BoB's criminal justice system, the people are not represented by two separate, yet equally
important, groups: just the security department who investigate crime, and the security department
who prosecute the offenders. We can't afford both. Anyway. These are their stories....
"Law & Order - BoB Style"
=^= SB BoB - The Brig =^=
Baxter Mattingly arrived at the brig with a scowl on his face.
"Number 4, Bossman," the guard said with a grin.
"My favorite cell," Baxter said. "You put him in my favorite cell."
With a wink, Baxter walked over to No. 4 and said, "Dhillon Havane, as I live and breathe. What brings
you to town?"
"Gravity, believe it or not," came the reply.
"You're in big trouble," Baxter said. "Found your DNA all over a dead body."
"I doubt it," sighed Dhillon."Me being me, tend to keep myself to meself."
"How about having a little fun with a young professional?" Baxter asked.
"I know nothing," he stated, though the feral grin said otherwise.
"Doesn't ring a bell?" Baxter continued.
"I really don't know what you're on about," Dhillon shook his head firmly. "I really should get meself a
lawyer."
"You don't need a lawyer," Baxter said. "You need to be locked up for life. Your bread and water will be
on the way soon. I'll be right back."
"BoB goes gourmet, well I never," returned Dhillon rather sarcastically.
Baxter went to the brig's office and made two calls.
"Gigi," he said. "I need you in the brig for an interrogation. You know who. Pronto."
And then, "SNELL!" Baxter always felt he had to get his attention. "Come on down to the brig. We've
got a tough nut that needs cracking. I need you."
Baxter took a bite of chocolate and waited, while a burst of BoB's worst music was filtering into the cell
block. Baxter adjusted it to be Johnny Cash songs about prisons.
Dhillon turned his eyes to the ceiling, his face pulled and contorted as though he was looking for a
mosquito to swat. He, wasn't by any length of chalk, about to walk the line.
*****
Gigi was finishing up her break when the call came through. Sighing, she downed her coffee in a gulp
and set off, slipping her phaser back into it's holster. Brig? You know who? Who was you know who?
Arriving at the brig, she went over to the lugubrious CPO Slough, Brig Chief and jobsworth, who was
looking a little put out. "Hey Chief, what's up?"
Slough gave a heavy huff, "Commander Mattingly will explain, I'm sure. I certainly don't know. It's only
my brig, after all.."
Gigi hid a grin and patted his arm - despite his being such a stickler for every little detail he was still a
bit of a father-figure to the team. "Eh, maybe they got a big fish to fry, yeah?"
"It's that Dhillon Havane. He used to be the husband of Counsellor Dharma," Slough recited. "From
what I can gather - not that anyone bothers to let me know so I can do the paperwork - he's the one
involved in that alleged suicide you called in the other day."
Trying not to laugh out loud at the Brig Chief's grumblings about protocol, Gigi nevertheless looked
interested. "So it was him, was it? Interesting. But it was Bax that called me here - whereabouts is he?"
"Right down the end - " Slough pointed, "Around the corner, cell number four. Out of sight, you
know?"
"The plot thickens," Gigi raised an eyebrow. "I'd better get over there. And don't worry, Chief, I'll keep
you up to date."
Mumbling through his stiffly bristled moustache, Slough returned to his paperwork.
Appearing around the comer, Gigi arrived at the designated cell and peered inside. "Scrawny little jackrabbit, ain't he, huh?" she growled. Turning to Bax she said, "Okay, Boss, I'm here. What's going
down?"
"I find myself wanting to strangle the prisoner, so I asked you to come on down and keep me good,"
Baxter said. "I thought perhaps he'd like talking to you better than me. We're looking for who or what
caused that young woman to kill herself."
"Me, if you believe the rap sheet," Dhillon was now on his feet, and leaning against the wall of cell
number four. "Why are you here, this is the brig. Brains, the beauty and the Beast. Which one are you,
and should I bat my eyelashes?" Dhillon grinned, and fluttered them anyone.
"More likely you'd need to get out your wallet, if what I hear is true," Gigi said acerbically. "But don't
sweat it, chico, you couldn't afford me."
Baxter tried not to laugh and failed.
"C'mon, man, Baxter," Dhillon called around through the fields keeping him in. "You sent a girl, to a
man's job. Where you gone, painting your nails?"
"I'm here," Baxter said, stepping more into view. "You talk big, Havane."
"I'm sure you're lovely, Crewman Gomez, all three and a half braincells," smirked Dhillon. "But I may
need say, double that to talk."
"Dunno if the doc does brain enhancements, but you could always ask him," Gigi said mock-helpfully.
"He might have a few spare lying around from an amoeba that he could lend you. Anything would be
an improvement on what you got."
"I'm here 'cause you lot don't know a plank from a nail," Dhillon crossed his arms. "Ask me something
relevant, that ascertains my innocence, and lemme walk the walk."
"This little chica that died, you slept with her?" Gigi shrugged. "Silly question, your DNA was all over
her bed."
"Well, if you got all the answers, Gomez," shrugged a complicit Dhillon. "Tell me, what's the meaning of
life, whilst yer at it."
"Man, what kind of a guy has to pay for a chick to have sex with him?" Gigi looked disgusted. "You
really so useless in the sack? That why she top herself?"
"Well, sweetheart, you're not going to find out," he replied. "And as for why she did herself in, was a
fairly miserable existence, and the best way for her, was probably out."
Something snapped with a loud crack that Baxter had in his hands.
"I don't think her existence was without hope, Havane," Baxter said, "that is until she met you. What
did you say to her? What did you do? We found bruises."
"You'd find them on peaches, too, Baxter," scoffed Dhillon. "If you looked hard enough."
"You don't belong here, chico, do you? Not on this station," Gigi said coldly. "Round here, we'd die for
one another, just to keep the other person alive in this world, if we could. But you - when you come
around, girls die just because they don't want to be in a world that has trash like you walking around in
it. Big man, huh? Bet you feel so proud."
"I dunno 'bout big, I don't tend to check out the local talent," Dhillon was in some bizarre mood, "But
I'm proud of the few things I have achieved."
"That why your wife left you?" Gigi snapped. "Because you were so crap in bed? Now she gets the
offers rolling in, and you get reduced to paying for it from sad little drabs that don't wanna live
afterwards. Maybe it's you oughtta have topped yourself, chico. No loss, eh?"
"Ah," Dhillon flexed his index finger. "I was wondering when that good fer nothing would crop. She's a
bit irrelevant, but she's still alive. Although I did try there too."
"Oh really?" Gigi looked interested. "You tried to kill your wife? That's a confession of attempted
murder, amigo. And that means we can keep you in here for a whole lot longer, ain't that right
Commander?" she looked to Baxter for confirmation.
Now Baxter truly was smiling. "The lady is correct," Baxter said. "In fact, thanks to modern technology,
or at least what BoB considers modern technology, we just happen to have your confession on tape.
You'd better consider that lawyer again."
Baxter wandered up to Slough and said, "Attempted murder, Havane, Cell 4. Now you can do your
paperwork, Chief."
Slough perked up, his bristly moustache twitching in delight as he reached for a Padd to begin the
lengthy administration process, which was hoggy-heaven for such a stickler.
Then he went back to Gigi and Dhillon. "So tell me, Havane, tell me about the young girl you slept with.
There's nothing against the law in that that would get you prison. What did you tell her? What did you
do?"
"Do you want diagrams?" asked the Havane.
Baxter looked at Gigi and nodded.
"Whatever gets you through the night," she said calmly, not showing the anger she felt towards his
callous boastful attitude.
Not far behind Snell was tucking in his uniform having been woken from a deep slumber. "There had
better be a good... oh my... Well Dhillon, I'd never have thought you'd end up here." He had to take a
double step back to make sure he wasn't dreaming still. Turning to Baxter Snell asked "Sir, is he here
on holiday or is it something more palatable?"
"Not likely, Snell," Baxter said.
Snell stood in full view of the force field and beckoned Dhillon to come closer. "Lets have a look at the
rap sheet... young woman, prostitution.... died shortly afterwards, initial DNA tests show you were
present at the scene not long before time of death. You work fast don't you Dhillon? Gigi could you
give me a moment alone with him?"
Dhillon looked Snell up and down. "Don't Gigi, I don't think I could manage a whole one."
Gigi just gave a cold smile that didn't reach her eyes and ignored him, turning to Snell. "Tag," she
muttered. "You staying outside the flea pit?"
"No,no, let the forcefield down I'll be fine, just put it up after I go in and let me out after."
With a quick look at Baxter for his agreement, Gigi shrugged and lowered the forcefield until after Snell
had entered.
Snell stepped in before addressing the incarcerated watching intently. "Now talk to me Dhillon, you
come across as being the psychopathic down in the dumps sort of guy. After all we are men and we get
urges. So tell me, what do you think happened?"
"Oh, dear," Dhillon chuckled, shaking his head. "It's like feeding at the zoo. Trained chimp could do
better. An urge. That is what happened. Did you want me talk about it?"
"Well talking about it usually gets people to open up about things. Deep passions, dark desires... you
know the bits of excitement we get when we let our primal behaviours come out, where we are not in
control of our bodies. If you have done anything as well it would look good on you for opening up. Do
you believe in a soul or God or Zultan?" Snell gently asked. His mind listening to every word he said and
disseminating it. His years of double-speak gave him an edge over people who lied or omitted things.
Often the most telling part of a persons story was that which had not been spoken.
"Are you trying to be a psycho-analyst?"Dhillon crossed his arms, and squinted. "As we've already
established. I don't like therapists."
"The evidence is stacked against you for now, can you give us anything that will let us help you. We are
only here to help. I am here as your friend, these four walls, they are your safe zone and I am here as
your consciousness. I promise nothing bad will happen if you are innocent." Snell barefaced lied to
him. Another technique picked up from his time as a renegade.
"I aint got jack else to tell you," shrugged Dhillon. "You've already made your cases."
"So you can't tell me anything else. Anything that would tell me more about what happened that
night?" Snell had images of letting his cat loose in the brig and mauling the man in there with him.
"No, but I really want to deck you in the present."
"Violence is not going to look good on you. Your history and your admission before tell me that you
haven't told me the truth. I'd like to help but you gotta understand that for me to help you I need to
trust that you are not lying to me." Snell used his most fatherly voice.
"Don't patronise me," sneered Dhillon. "I'm nearly thirty, not three."
"If that is it then so be it. Let the forcefield down I want out." Snell called out. When the field fell Snell
stepped out backwards, all the time watching Dhillon.
Gigi slammed the forcefield back up with a triumphant and knowing smirk at Dhillon. "You couldn't
resist boasting, could you, chico? See where your big mouth got you now?"
Out of range of the cell Snell mused. "I can't get too much out of him at the moment. Gigi's little chat
hardened him like a rock. He is even more psychotic then his wife. I could let him stew for a bit before I
go in there again." Snell was tight lipped.
"Hey, don't blame me," Gigi protested. "Words don't mean much to a jerk like that. If you had the
chance, you should have slapped him around a bit. That's the only language creeps like him
understand."
"Snell, I'd like you to try it," Baxter said. "He mentioned trying to kill Cdr. Dharma and that riles me
something fierce. We need to make sure she's safe. Gomez, why don't you try one more time to get
him to talk about the commander and then we'll break."
"How 'bout we take a break now, an' let him stew in it?" Gigi suggested. "He ain't going no-where now,
an' we can hold him for as long as we like now he made that admission. Let him kick himself for a bit.
He might start to realise the mess he's in and then be more ready to deal."
"Or that could work" Baxter acknowledged.
"Unless you think that going in and kicking the crap out of him now would be any better?" Gigi didn't
mind either way.
"I doubt it," Baxter said. "I think you might get him to slip up later."
"Yeah, that sounds good to me, Boss," Gigi replied as they started to walk away from the cell. "So
who's going to stump up for breakfast, eh?"
=/\= USS Caledonia - Sickbay =/\=
Almost the entirety of Bree's body shuddered as he released a huge sigh. He raised his hands to his
head and started rubbing his temples to ease the sudden headache. It didn't do much for the pain but
it did at least warn Tol and Carol that running for some sort of cover would be a good idea. After a
significant pause Bree narrowly opened his eyes, "So whilst you were sterilising each piece of
equipment, badly, neither of you thought to actually check they were fit for purpose?"
Tol took a step back and positioned the laid out equipment between him and the irate Doctor. There
were plenty of vicious looking instruments on the bio bed awaiting selection for the looming autopsy.
One or two of them had managed to bring a tear to Tol's eyes as he'd cleaned them. They were
definitely tools for post mortems. You wouldn't be able to get near the living with them without the
patients running a mile. "They look like they'll do the job don't they?"
In support of Tol Carol cast a critical glance over the array of objects. "They all look fine to me. All in
one piece and completely clean. The laser equipment is all fully charged too." The few laser scalpels
that were there glowed red with fresh power.
"Novices.", muttered Bree none too quietly. He grabbed an unfriendly looking bone saw and held it up
with one hand so it was in easy view. With the other he ran a finger gently across the serrated blade.
"What's wrong with this?"
"Aside from the blatant idiocy in doing that with your finger?" Carol raised an eyebrow.
Bree feigned surprise and stopped running his finger along the business end of the saw. "You're almost
right. Doing that would normally be quite stupid as Bone saws should be sharp enough to lop my finger
off with the lightest of touches. But..." He waved his intact finger around like it was the result of a
particularly impressive magic trick. "I still have all my digits. The blade is blunt. If it can't deal with a
finger how is it going to managed with ribcage?"
Tol chanced his neck, "So it's a little blunt. You'll just have to saw a little harder. It's not like they're
going to feel it."
There was the briefest appearances of a smile across Bree's face before it settle back to it's permascowl. "That's not the point. I don't want it to look like we have inadequate equipment infront of
Brother Kosnax."
"Oh I see..." Carol started to tap a foot. "It's not about whether the equipment can do the job. It's
about appearances and pride."
"No it's not." Bree dismissed Carol's suggestion quickly, and fairly defensively. "If the saw doesn't look
like it's working then Kosnax will probably suggest a herb that will do the job just as well, and more
naturally." For the last few words Bree did his best imitation of Kosnax's slightly nasal voice.
"Hmmm...." Carol started to pack the sharp implements away, "I doubt that somehow. I don't think
herbal medicine has made those advances yet."
"I'm not convinced they have made any at all." Bree snorted.
Tol, glad for the change in conversation, asked, "Will you need us to come down and assist?" He was
quite curious about the Monks. They sounded much more pleasant, and safer, than some of the people
they had met on recent missions.
Bree shook his head angrily. "No. Brother Kosnax will be assisting me. Making sure I do everything
correctly. Besides I don't think either of you would be that welcome down there."
When they both gave him a blank look Bree explained, "Well not only are you not Human Tol...you're
bright blue. And Nurse..." He smiled, "You might encourage impure thoughts."
"I would n..."
Bree waved a hand to cut Carol off. "Save it. It doesn't matter anyway. Their Infirmary is quite small so
anymore than two people plus stiff might make the place crowded. Our elbows are probably going to
end up touching most of the time as it is. Least if I get jostled I can't do any harm."
Carol frowned, still unhappy at rubbish reason for not being allowed down, "I don't know. I'm sure you
can manage to do some damage somehow."
The Doctor just snorted and grabbed the bag.
=/\= 30 minutes later...=/\=
The moment after the transporter beam released it's hold on Bree he shivered. Not because he was
cold, far from it, but because he still wasn't fond of having his atoms scattered across space. Especially
when the final destination was full of people he considered to be a little bit loopy.
There was a Monk in front of Bree but well behind the force field. Before he could say anything Bree
waved the freshly packed desert uniform. "I know the drill. Unclean. Unclean. Power up your giant hair
dryer."
=/\= BoB Main Promenade - Cafe Rouge =/\=
Arihana had left Avril with her son. She was a bit miffed still. Taking a look around, she saw who she
was after. "I'll have a double vodka, and a bottle of red, white, or rose whatever for my friend here,"
she said to the bar maid to pull up a stool and deposit herself next to Francois. "Now, I have a
problem."
He raise his head " you came with a offering which is always good"
"First,I apologise for over reacting to your statement," she said putting a beer mat as her drink arrive.
"Second, I believe that my big mouth led to you deciding that we shouldn't socialise. Is that about
right?" Arihana slowly swirled her glass.
" Yes, the affirmation would be correct" taking a sip of the wine that was brought to him.
"You should know by now, to take whatever I say, with a pinch of salt," Arihana arched her brows as
she took a mouthfull of her drink. "And we were getting on so well."
"I think so too, we were finally having fun. What exactly happen?" he seem really looking for a honest
answer.
"I'm a bit sick and tired of winding you up to be honest," she said with a shrug. "It's not big, it's not
funny, and it aint clever. I'm sorry."
He gave her a warm smile "It bugging but that what make me love you" he stop slowly "Make me like
you I mean".
"Course, that's right," nodded Dharma, "Good to get the two easily seperated and clear."
"Look let not fight start another argument, for now let enjoy good compagny if you don't mind?"
"Well, I haven't got long," Arihana looked at her wrist. "This was only a five minute job,I have to get
back anf feed Suraj. But yes. To good Company," her glass was momentarily raised before she downed
the entire contents and pulled a face. The stiff drink had been a long time coming.
"So how everyone with the dark thing. I know for every patient out we have one in, people do the
dumbmess things.."
"I know, there sheer number that will walk into a wall, or trip over a dog," she agreed. "There are a
few who have had to deal with a fear of the dark, but it's all good. I just hope that it don't last too
long."
"Come on, the type of station doesn't sty in the dark to long.." trying to give some positive.
"This is BoB, strange stuff happens all the time," Arihana said it as though it was par for the course.
"True, just like those tupid dolls saleman"
"What's creepy, is that doll," she shook her head a moment. "It's all 'orrible, and looks like me. I do
wish I could chuck it in the garbage grinder. Only that aint allowed, sadly."
"That's what I heard..." he wink at her.
"So, I hear that one of the nomads- we have new marines, scary-" She almost shuddered. "Is one of
your nearest and dearest.I do think I would have a small episode if any of my lot decided to wear green
for a living. "
He look at her trying to see where se was goin with this.
"I'm sure that they will lovely, but as a rule," the counsellor set her glass away from her. "Marines exist
over here," she planted one hand on the bar, "and counsellors over there," she continued with her
other hand being placed about metre away. "And a new marine CO. That'll take some getting used to."
He laugh "I bet, marines and emotions ishhhh...bad combo"
"Have you seen what he looks like?" Arihana asked, looking somewhat worried. "I can't swoon at this
one, or stalk this one. I'm screwed if ever I need a human shield."
"True, you had it made with the colonel" he smile.
"We'll cope without the Colonel," sighed the Counsellor. "Well, us underlings will. Her In charge. That
may be another story, entirely. Finally gets her guy, but he's has to get moving. Hollywood this aint."
"It's romantic isn't?"
"Romance is dead, Francois," She nodded for a quick refil. "Well dead and buried. With the exception
of Mr and Mrs.Baxter Mattingly, marriage on BoB, is not a good idea. Bax and Yus are as happy as larry
through some fluke. They have a junior on the way. At least no one will forget their wedding, eh?" she
picked up her second glass, to take a small sip. She found that she didn't really want it.
"Heu...are we speaking about you now" woman had a gift to confuse the shit out of him.
"I'm checking out the local competition, Francois, that's all you need to know," Arihana smiled to step
of her stool. "My private life. Is exactly what it says in the tin. Private, and my own. I shall leave you to
it," she flexed a thumb and pressed it against the EFT point held by the barmaid incase the Counsellor
scarpered. "I've been a bad mother, and have neglected my son. I have even delayed fiding him a a
nanny. I will see you when I see you. T'ra." And off she walked, very slowly.
"Bye" He turn to the bartender "What exactly happen?" The bartender raise his hand unable to give a
traight answer, at least they we're friend again...
=/\= SB BoB - Marine Deck Level 124 =/\=
James swept together the roll of material that housed his precision tools. There was an oily muskiness
from it that aged it, but gave Private Fidoe the assurance of a life time. He knew what each implement
did and how. Were proper old school tools, none of this hypo and hydro rubbish. Cold metal that was
preened with the precision to knock out a comms array with a single tweak.
Socks. Had enough clean ones, he thought as he rolled a handful into small sausages. A small black
book no bigger than a childs' palm. Dog eared and wearied. But this wasn't as insidious as it looked.
Woof pressed a palm across the fading gold writing. Communications and Telemetry: A handbook. He
had found it, in Cairo of all places. A flea bitten second hand book shop in a souk run by a lost looking
English ex-pat. He opened the weary leather at a random page. It was well loved, it fell open at random
pages on its own accord. It had opened at page marked with the Ace of Spades.
Woof simply smiled. The Ace of Spades. Motorhead had a lot to be thankful for as he closed the book
and slipped it inside his tunic.
Xavier, check his bag one last time, his first mission and he didn't want to be unprepared. He did pack
light so not to give the impression that he was a nervous wreck. Seeing his brother kind of reassure
him, that if anything some family would be there if anything happen. He look at his picture of his family
that was taken years ago and got up making sure he had put his knife on him.
Angel was sitting on the edge of her lower bunk, impassive and cool. Suddenly, she gave a small shriek
as an upside-down head appeared over the edge of the upper bunk with a Cheshire-cat grin.
In a trice, the grin disappeared as the figure turned a neat somersault and catapulted down in front of
her. "Hello," he gave a manic little grin. "Private Jonathon Simm at your service. Thought I'd make your
acquaintance - all recon together, aren't we? My friends call me John-Boy."
"Well, Privet Simm, in recon we try to behave in a more discrete manner," came the snooty reply.
John-Boy backed away, his lips making a silent 'oooh' as he raised an eyebrow.
Angel smirked, "I hear you already know one of my team."
The implication of team leadership wasn't lost on him, and he kept any facetious remarks to himself for
the moment. "Yeah, me and Tennant - buddies to the end. Well, literally, really. We were buddies,
although not at the end. Shame that. We go back a long way."
"From the same part of England?" Angel hazarded a guess.
"Nah, never been there. We're not from Earth."
"Oh?" Angel looked fazed for a moment. True, she'd never bothered to find out where Davey Tennant
was from, but always just assumed he was from Earth. "You're both human, though?"
"Yeah.. well, sort of. Colonies, that's where we're from. Colonies a long long way away. Not that you'd
ever have heard of them, really.." Simm shrugged.
At that moment, Tennant and Ecclestone returned from their own packing, and Tennant stopped so
suddenly that Ecclestone nearly cannoned into him. "I see you've met," he said warily, although it
wasn't clear exactly which of the two he was referring to.
"Just being civilised, Tennant," John-Boy gave another manic little grin. "Like a good boy."
Tennant gave him a scorching glare, and John-Boy held up his hands in mock surrender as he backed
off. "Be seeing you..."
Angel turned to Tennant, irritated and curious. "Care to share?"
"Nah, it's nothing. Just a bit of old rivalry," Tennant turned away and wandered off in the opposite
direction.
"Do *you* know anything about this?" Angel demanded of Ecclestone.
"Nope," he didn't want to get involved. "I'm going for a piss."
Jack was relaxing in a quiet corner, his finger following the lines of the book he held in his lap. He was
sipping sweet tea and reading about murder and mayhem. In other words, he was right where he
wanted to be.
He didn't pay any attention to the talk around him. Quiet times were hard to get in the marines. He
paused in the reading to smile as he remembered finding that antique store on the Promenade that
sold books. He'd treated himself to three, breaking his rule of one at a time. He thought he might need
some good reading material. BoB was so quiet; dark, but quiet. He adjusted his lantern and turned a
page.
Private Sasaki had already finished packing and was simply sitting on his bunk, looking at a picture of
his family. It wasn't a large one at all, only consisting of his mother, his father, and himself. In the
picture his parents were on each side of him, standing in front of his parents' house in Hokkaido
prefecture, Japan. It was an odd sight to most anyone except Akira - his gigantic, muscular form, pale
skin and blazing red hair towering over his shortish, petitish Japanese parents like the ghost of a troll
set to flame.
He couldn't help but feel guilty. His mother hadn't stopped worrying about him enlisting right up until
he left. Now was his chance to prove to her he would be all right out here. If only he could be so sure
himself. His usual confidence was slightly dampened by both his sloppy shooting against the Orions,
and his lack of knowledge of what he was getting into. Of course, most missions would be like that, he
supposed, and he'd just have to get used to rolling with the punches.
When he recapped this to his mother, however, he decided he would downplay the complete
uncertainty in favor of something that would inspire a hint of confidence.
****
Anyone on the flight deck with the Knight-Mare was treated to the melody of Top Hat, White Tie, and
Tails blaring from the open hatch of Mulder's ship, but the voice was certainly not Fred Astaire's, and
the lyrics were slightly different.
"I'm... putting on my flight suit... sticking in my rank pips... checking the warp nacelles."
It was all Lieutenant Quide could do not to break out in tap as he loaded his necessities into the ship.
Not that it would've have done any good anyway, since his regulation Starfleet boots didn't come
equipped with taps. He'd have to get onto the captain about that. Not only would it liven up the
station, but in the continued dark, it would help keep track of people.
"I'm stepping out, my dear, to zero atmosphere, with marines en mass.
And I trust y'will excuse my dust when I step on the gas.
For I'll be there... soaring in my flight suit... earning both these rank pips... blowing things to 'ell."
It wasn't going to be all fun and games for poor Quide, though. As he looked at his supplies, he couldn't
help but miss that which he chose not to bring... booze. There was no helping it, after all. If Reeds did
as he was asked and collected the required stimulants from Doctor Bonnenfant, there would be liberal
use of them during the course of the trip, and Quide knew from personal experience that stimulants
and depressants tended to do worse than simply cancel each other out.
On the bright side, he had his music. He believed that he had compiled a list of songs that would be
enjoyable for everyone. Of course, it was a list made to last several days without too much repeating of
material, so he was sure that some of his eclectic collection would be received better by some than
others somewhere along the line.
Still, if anyone did have any complaints about his music, he would be happy to let them air their
grievances... right before he forced them to walk the rest of the way. That would teach those
damnable marines and their accursed height and build.
****
Roman stepped out of his office tapping a padd against his thigh each time his left boot hit the decking.
When he saw his Sergeant Major, he made a twirling motion with one finger pointed up; the signal to
rally the troops.
Gideon bellowed as loud as his nicotine and tar encrusted lungs would allow. "NOMADS! ON THE
DECK!"
Szabo stopped and watched the Marines pile out of the barracks rooms. "As I said, a single group of
twenty Marines. We will be divided into three teams. Blue Team will consist of four. Staff Sergeant
McManus?"
"SIR!" The plucky sergeant grinned and stepped forward.
"I understand that you have experience flying with Lieutenant Quide?"
"Oh, yes, sir, Ell-tee. He's a good hand."
"Good, pick two of your best. You'll pull security for the transport with Sar'Major Canowicakte during
the mission. Your only job is keep Lieutenant Quide safe and keep our ride home from sprouting
unnecessary holes. Understood?"
"C-Effin-B, Ell-tee."
"Good. Red Team will be twelve Marines. Staff Sergeant Cash, Sergeant Kane?"
"Sir," they answered in unison.
"Cash has the heavy element and Kane the light," he said referring to the division of the team if it
became necessary. In the event of a split, Cash would have eight and Kane, the remaining four. "Cash,
Recon. Frost, Simm, Tennant, and Ecclestone are assigned to you. Sergeant Drexer, Bonnenfant, and
Fidoe will be your security and support. Kane, overwatch for recon. Your sharpshooters ready?"
"Always, sir."
"Good, last is Gold Team. Command and control as well as the contact team for the locals we'll be
interacting with. Myself, Corporal Beaudreau and Private Sasaki for element security, and Corporal
McLaren for communications." Szabo dropped the padd into his pocket and took in the whole group.
"Those of you that weren't called, report to Lieutenant Richter for scheduling and assignments. Keep
this station safe and sound. I don't want to return to a debris field. Those of you that were called, grab
your shit. We're leaving in five. That is all. Sar'Major?"
"Sir!" Gideon stepped up. "NOMADS! DIS-MISSED!"
Fidoe nodded to himself. A job was a job, he was happy with that. As well as who is was going with. It
wouldn't be easy, but anything that was worth doing, never was.
Xavier nodded. He was confident that he could had some good skill to a well diverse team. Under good
leadership and good command this mission would be a very successful one.
Angel straightened her back and looked at her team-mates. "Told you so," she said smugly.
Tennant barely heard. He looked over to where John-Boy was standing, across the deck.
John-Boy just winked and grinned.
Tennant frowned and stared him out.
"Come *on*," Angel gave him a sharp dig in the ribs. "Let's move." She figured that they'd have plenty
of time on the outward journey for her to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of
them. And figure it out she would - if they were a team, then they'd better start acting like one, or
she'd be kicking their asses all the way to the next galaxy.
Eager for some action, Jack was nonetheless disturbed to be leaving the antique shop after only one
visit. He grinned anyway. Adventure was better than reading; reading was always nice to come back to.
"Corporal?" A female Marine with a Hollywood smile walked up to Jack.
He turned at her voice as he'd been gazing in the direction of antiques - not seen, not discovered yet.
"Yes, Ma'am," she came into focus, "Corporal."
She held out her hand to shake while holding her gear bag onto her shoulder with the other. "Corporal
Susanna McLaren. Communications."
Jack's hand reached out and gripped hers firmly. "A pleasure to meet you," he said. "Looks like are days
of wine and roses on BoB are about over."
She shrugged and winked at him. "The Ell-tee says that you'll be watching my back while I'm trying to
keep everyone networked. I just wanted to see who I was working with. Good handshake by the way.
Strong." She turned to leave. "See you on the GL, Jack."
Jack grinned at her. He was, after all, of French descent. "I wrestle alligators," he joked. "Consider your
back mine, Susanna," he answered, "and don't give it another thought."
He nodded as she turned and then hoisted up his own gear bag and followed her. He might as well
start watching that back right away.
=/\= SB SB BoB Cell 4 =/\=
Dhillon was pacing. Pacing like a caged animal. Given the charged against him, that was a fitting
description. He was wearing his brain to a frazzle. 'You idiot, you 'fessed up to nearly doing 'er in,' his
inner thoughts were bursting around, competing for space.
It had been two years ago. When he had tried. Shame it hadn't worked.
He was trying. Trying to get his head straight.
Why had he gone in? Was it just for kicks, or see whether he could still be a venomous toad?
Dhillon growled, launching a boot towards the forcefield.
"LEMMMMME OUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTT!"
There was that horrible heated surge, and it was coarsing through his veins. There were two girls
runnng around in his head. The one that he hated more than anything, with a vehement passion.
Then there was the other.
He hadn't known. That she would herself in. That she would take what he said and did, and do herself
in.
Or had he?
He didn't know anymore. What went on inside his head, or why he thought the way he did. He had
these thoughts, that propelled him towards these actions. It was as though someone was guiding his
hand and leading him through the fog.
Another boot went flying. Another roar of sheer brutality.
"YOUBLOOMINGLISTENINGBAXTERYOUWAFERBLONDE!"
He had no idea what he was saying.
=/\= SB BoB Dharma Abode =/\=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWgE3sEhtu4 (Pochahontas-the ending)
"PFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT!" Arihana blew her nose, and sniffed.
"Whatser matter?" Asked Suraj looking up from the folds of a duvet. "You alright, mummy?" he shifted
in her lap, and put his hand to her face.
"Just being stupid," Arihana answered. "I know full well, that she went with him," she sniffed. "But they
made her stay and play Hiawatha."
"I like Disney," Suraj pouted, his bottom lip was quivering.
"I know, sorry," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him. "If I can't shatter your illusions. It's just a
very sad ending. Promise me, we won't watch Bambi."
"We won't watch bambi," Suraj sniffed, he too was off. "Don't be leaving me anytime soon," he rested
his head on a shoulder. It had felt like forever since they had done this.
"Oh, no, not you too, Suraj, don't." His mother had to wipe her nose with the back of her hand. "We
got Lilo and Stich, or you want Atlantis. I don't like Atlantis. It's all a bit violent. Even for Disney."
"No, it's the solider. Rourke, you don't like him." Suraj said before blowing his nose too.
Was it Rourke? The horrible lieutenant that lead the Atlantis mission. The one who tried to kill them
all, and take away the diamond thing?
"You sure?" Arihana asked.
"Shall we just watch the one with the penguins?" Suraj clambered off the sofa and away from his
mother.
"Penguins?" she squinted and edged of the sofa and followed towards the holoplayer. "Suraj," she
started as she realised which movie he was referring to. "Madagascar, one or two? The first one skips
as you've seen it that many times."
"One." He thrust the chip into her hands. "Watch it with me, and then I won't windge when you watch
Beauty and the Beast, and say all the lines," he grumbled.
"We can bypass the Skipper bits," Arihana realised that she bargaining with her own flesh and blood.
"Or just watch them? I'll just watch all the songs in Beauty and the beast."
Suraj looked at his mother, his eyes narrowed in consideration. "We watch the Skipper bits. You get
the songs."
"Deal," Arihana nodded, shaking her sons hand and going back as Suraj loaded up the player again.
"Ooh, snotty tissue, nice one mummy," Suraj, grimaced throwing aside the tissue. He clambered up
and took up his post as his mother found the relavant scenes.
=^= BoB Cell 4 =^=
Baxter Mattingly heard his name in a string of vindictive and hopeless mutterings so that he wandered
down the row of cells to check out the noise.
On his way, he stopped to check on the other prisoners. The brig chief would get his feather's ruffled,
but Baxter really knew who was in charge here and so did Slough. It was Slough, of course.
Finally, Baxter arrived in front of the forcefield that held Dhillon Havane and his boots in place.
"You'll ruin a good pair of boots that way," Baxter said. "I'd like to let you out, but then I couldn't be
held responsible for how you'd look later."
The commander leaned against the nearest solid wall.
"Havane you're a bad seed," Baxter said. "BoB is a last chance kind of place. If you're innocent, you'll be
freed in due course. If you do get out, take that as a sign to change and try a new path. You don't
always have to be so hateful and nasty. Try thinking about other people for a change and try to stop
from cutting into everyone's heart."
Baxter pointed a little gadget at the wall and continued. "And, listen to this very carefully, Havane,
Suraj is my pal and that means I don't want to see him hurt. If anything happens to his mother, he'd be
hurt. That means that I'd be coming for you should said mother get hurt and I won't care if you're
innocent or not. It's in your best interest to keep her alive and well, if you know what I mean."
Baxter again poked the little gadget.
"Have a nice day, Havane," he said. "Lunch will be coming soon. You're in luck. It's Pigs day to feed the
jailbirds."
Baxter gave him a grin and walked back through the cellblock.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
"Captain's log, Stardate... oh damn, it's too dark to see," Mulder squinted at her chronograph.
"Anyway, the lights are still out, and we're all getting a bit brassed off by it."
"As may be expected around here, when things go wrong, they just keep getting wronger and wronger.
Including my grammar. We can never have a simple disaster, it seems. The fates decide to twist and
turn it into an uber-disaster, even when it shouldn't be much of a disaster at all."
"Not that anything that's happened really counts as a disaster *yet*, not by BoB standards - but it's
only a matter if time, I'd bet a month's supply of Jaffa Cakes."
She picked up the various reports one by one and started again, "The Nomads are about to embark on
a training exercise." For security purposes, she kept the cover story for her official logs. "And
Lieutenant Quide will be ferrying them. I see they've just notified the choice of marines who will be
taking part so I guess they'll be setting off shortly."
She paused her official log recording and tapped her commbadge, "Captain to the Flight Deck.
Lieutenant, expect the Nomads shortly, they're prepped now and will be descending on you within the
hour, so better get KM gunned up and ready. I've cleared her for disembarking any time you like now.
Have fun out there."
Starting on her log again she continued, "The Infirmary has been busy, Doctor Bonnenfant and his
people have had a steady stream of minor injuries to deal with, as the darkness claims victims of
various slippage and fumble-fingered related incidents."
"On a more sinister note, I see from the Brig Reports that Mister Havane is in custody being questioned
not only about the recent suicide we had, but an attempted murder of his ex-wife. He always was a
wrong 'un, so I'm sorry to say it doesn't surprise me in the slightest. I'll leave that investigation in the
capable hands of Commander Mattingly. I'm sure he'll sort it through, and if he accidentally lets Mister
Havane fall through an open airlock I can't say that I'd blame him."
"On the subject of Counsellor Dharma, there's various reports on the unofficial grapevine that she has
a new beau, a civilian singer on the station. Not that's it's official business of mine, of course - but I
hope it goes well. Goodness knows we could all do with a little good cheer right now."
"There is one other matter..." she paused, uncertain how to word it exactly. "The darkness is getting a
little claustrophobic, I think. Several officers and civilians have mentioned that they feel...uneasy in the
darkness. And I have to admit, I have experienced a certain unsettling feeling myself. That was when I
helped rescue a small child with Doctor Bonnenfant a little while ago. There's no physical reason for it,
of course.. at least, I don't think so..."
She sat back for a moment, considering her words. "I have to conclude, for now, that it's just a mixture
of post-battle stress taking longer to lift than usual. But going back to what I said at the start, could it
be the fore-runner of something more sinister? I might make a few subtle enquiries, get the science
bods involved, even if it is a fruitless task. I don't like to feel unsafe on my own station when there
*isn't* a tangible threat.."
Rubbing a tired forehead she finished, "Yes, I'll pay very careful attention to every report about it I get
now, a few discreet investigations wouldn't go amiss, and then maybe I can at least put minds to rest. I
hope. End log."
Standing and stretching, she whistled for Sherlock, "Come on boy. Let's take a brisk stroll. Blow the
cobwebs away, and we won't let any silly shadows worry us."
=/\= SB BoB - Upper Flight Deck =/\=
Lieutenant Quide stood next to the KnightMare, bathed in the light of lamps, lanterns, and upturned
flashlights that were set out to light the way for the en route Nomads. He had a bottle of whiskey in
hand, as he needed a bit of his self-prescribed medication after the weird day he had.
*****
-That Morning*****
=/\= SB BoB - Promenade =/\=
Lieutenant Quide was just exiting The Holiday after getting his 'breakfast' of gin and tonic, easy on the
tonic. Things were quiet around the flight deck now, since the hangers had been long since cleared of
their temporary residents, and most of the new arrivals had sufficiently functioning lights to dock
without either Reeds or himself playing Lantern Patrol. Add to that the fact that it was too dark to do
much in the way of working to replace the hybrids he had gotten blown apart against the Ha'agen and
there really wasn't much the BoBCats could do at the moment.
He was just about to wander off to find a pub in which to have his mid-morning snack of scotch when
he noticed a group of oddly attired women cross his path. In the dim light, it was hard to tell for sure,
but they looked like...
"Were those... 'ula gels?"
Looking off to his right, in the direction the girls had come from, he saw a large group of people who
were gathered in a semi circle against one of the outer walls of the Promenade. Joining the throng,
Quide could see that their attention was focused on a table containing two small lamps, two
clipboards, and a cashbox. Behind the table, of course, was Crewman Reeds. Somehow Quide wasn't
surprised.
"Don't be shy ladies and gentlemen. The Mr. and Ms. BoB Pageant is fast approaching. Of course, some
previous exposure will only help your chancess when the big day finally arrives! For the small fee of ten
strips of latinum, you can take part in this exhibition event. Gain crowd support and improve your
chances for the main event!" The crewman gestured to the sign in sheet on his right.
"And the rest of you fine citizens who aren't at all interested in participating, you can be the first
BoBians to see these front runner competitors! Only five strips gets you a seat in the audience." He
gestured to the sign in sheet on his left.
Weaving his way through the crowd, Quide made his way to the table. Upon seeing him, Reeds looked
up with a grin.
"I didn't think you'd come around. What'll it be, audience or contestant?"
"Neither nor," Quide answered, sounding more than a little confused. "Since when did y'get involved in
the pageant?"
Reeds waved dismissively as he reached around Quide and took a man's five strips of latinum. "I'm not,
in an official sense, but I don't have to be, do I? These fine men and women who intend on competing
could use a little exposure to sure up their chances, and I'm more than happy to help them get it."
"For a price," Quide said, shaking his head.
"Well, of course. There is a processing fee, and the exhibition area needs to be set up, which requires
my hiring help... I'll be lucky to break even." Reeds said it so convincingly, he even began to think
better of himself for his selfless work.
Though one to be suspicious about Reeds' motives, Quide couldn't really see the harm in his current
scheme. If there was eventually a pageant, those entering might get the promised boost from their
preview showing, depending how the voting system worked. Besides, it really wasn't fair for Quide to
assume Reeds was out to scam people based on the little he knew about him. They had to work
together after all.
"Ey, when y'done signing people up 'ere, why don't y'meet me at The Vatican for a quick drink."
Reeds gave him a bit of an odd look, but nodded before renewing his smile and returning to the many
people ready and willing to sign up to be contestants, as well as those questionable looking people
who wanted to sign up to oggle them.
*****
"So that's who d'Dikkerree was," Reed said, sounding half amazed and fully drunk. In front of him sat a
singular empty glass - more than enough to do the deed.
Quide, on the other hand, had a great many empty glasses of all varying sizes set out in front of him.
"Right y'are. Amazing chap, wouldn't y'say?" he exclaimed, glass raised, words slurred, and laughter
loud. "But y'understand it even better after a few drinks, one doesn't cut it y'see. 'Ey! Y'with the drinks!
Another for this kid 'ere."
"I don't know..." Reeds said as the glass was produced. He was already wobbling, but seemed to at
least have enough good judgment to want to avoid going overboard.
"Oh go on. It won't kill y'to live a little once. Y'would think I'd be dead by now if that were true."
"That makes sense," Reeds said, still sounding unsure, but taking up the glass all the same and guzzling
a few more swallows. So much for good judgment.
The two simply sat and enjoyed their drinks, the din of some drunk on the other end of the bar singing
some incomprehensible drinking song filled the pub. Lesser sounds such as loud conversations and the
clinking of glasses could be heard in the background as well, and somewhere there was either a
television on, or else someone reenacting word for word something he had heard on TV. Either was
possible.
"Would you mind if I didn't fly with you anymore, on account of you nearly killed me the last time?"
Reeds blurted out at length.
The question kind of confused Quide a bit, but it didn't seem to surprise Quide. "I guess that's fair. I did
make a mess o that. We'll see about getting y'better at the controls so y'can fly y'own bird."
Crewman Reeds head wobbled like a bobble doll and he was leaning heavily on the bar. It wasn't really
the response he was expecting, but he'd take it. Of course, now he'd have to find something else to
complain to Dharma about. After all, he had been given homework - something he hadn't even given
any thought to yet - so he had to go back at least once, and he couldn't very well just go to give his
answers and then leave. The counselor didn't seem the type to 'just leave it at that.'
After that, Quide didn't really know what to say. Apparently Reeds had blamed him for his injuries, and
really it was his fault, but he hadn't known. There hadn't seemed to be much more bad blood than the
usual annoyance both felt for each other, and now it was just awkward to be sitting around with
someone who might very well hate him.
Reeds, for his part, was just glad that was solved and hoped Quide didn't change his mind when he
sobered up. But now he was stuck in a pub with his slightly drunk and now slightly troubled-looking
superior officer and the silence was rather awkward. His mind wasn't really working at peak efficiency,
but he tried his best to come up with some bit of conversation to fill the gap.
"So, what really is the deal with you and Lieutenant Lamarr?" Reeds asked suddenly, his voice not even
sounding that interested and his eyes focused on the bubbles in his drink.
"Oh, I don't know," Quide admitted, grabbing on to the new topic with both hands. "It's 'ard to put a
label on things, and I'm not sure that either o us would want to at this point. We're just kind o feeling
our way through, but she's an amazing gel, and great in the cockpit. I really should give 'er a call, but..."
Throughout the explanation, Tom seemed fairly coherent, but the most sobering moment for him was
when he turned to look at Reeds and found him completely tuning him out in favor of whatever the his
beer was telling him.
It occurred to the lieutenant that it was possible that he might eventually get along with Reeds, but
taking a nondrinker out drinking and expecting any kind of real conversation - or any real interaction at
all - might not have been the best idea he'd ever had. He'd have to call up Snell for that sort of thing,
until Jinti got back anyway. That security chap could really put away the booze.
During that short period of introspection by Tom, Reeds had dropped off, and was sawing logs with his
face buried in his arms on the bar.
"Well, thanks for the chat," Quide said, with a slight raise of his glass to the slumbering crewman.
Downing the rest of its contents, he got up and walked off, leaving Reeds in the capable hands of the
bar staff. It was about lunch time, and he could use some actual food in his stomach to ready his
constitution for his mid-afternoon drink break.
*****
-Present*****
Quide leaned against the KnightMare, sucking the last few drops of whiskey out of the bottle. He
wondered if Reeds had woken up yet. Sure it had been hours ago, but he had seen what a few sips of
brew had done to the crewman at his Congratulations On Not Dying party, and this time he had two
whole glasses.
In any event, he hadn't gone had much to eat afterwards. He had felt anxious about calling Jinti before
he set off and hadn't had much of an appetite.
*****
-That Afternoon*****
=/\= USS Caledonia - Jinti's Quarters =/\=
"To call, or not to call - thass the question.." Jinti toyed with a piece of carrot before dropping it into
Fang's cage.
The rabbit didn't - understandably - make any reply except to nibble and chew the vegetable tidbit.
"See, if'n I calls, thass like it's real, an' it's like I'm expectin' him ta be glad ta hear from me. An' thass
kinda sayin' that I'z sumthin' special, an' I ain't. I mean, sure, I'z pretty special as a pilot cuz I'z dang
good, but I ain't nuthin' more than a fun gal when it comes ta guys."
Fang would perhaps have offered a sympathetic snuffle if he'd understood what she was talking about,
but it was just human background noise to him.
Sitting at the small desk, Jinti fiddled with the controls of her commconsole. "He might be busy, flyin'
stuff, or... stuff," she told herself.
"An' if'n he ain't, he might think I'z callin' ta check up on him, which I ain't. Not even if'n there's hulahula gals around. Nuh-uh. I don't check up on guys."
Fang said nothing. Again.
"An if'n he ain't pleased ta see me, then I'z jist gonna feel so darn dumb," she ran a distracted hand
through her short spiky white hair. "But mebbe I oughtta find out, yeah?"
Fang had almost finished his carrot chunk, so he looked up momentarily.
"It's kinda easy ta say nice stuff when you ain't gonna see the person again fer a while. But when ya
calls long-distance, thass sorta like sayin' there's really sumthin' goin' on. But...not if'n he's jist a friend,
yeah? Jist a friendly call.." her fingers hovered over the comm.
*****
=/\= SB BoB - Quide's Quarters =/\=
Quide paced back and forth in his quarters, his eyes fixed on his comm console as they had been for
quite some time. The miniature version of him was laying on a table nearby, playing the part of adviser
and audience.
"I told 'er I would drop a line now and then," he reasoned. "So there really isn't anything to it, right? I
mean, she would be expecting me to call, wouldn't she?"
The doll was a very good listener, but not much on actually giving feedback.
"O course, she could 'ave forgotten I said that, or figured it was just the polite thing for me to say,
given what 'appened. If I call, will it imply something? Would it seem a mite presumptuous? And would
it be wrong if it was?"
Mini-Tom decided to stay silent on the matter.
"She's probably not there anyway, y'know. She's probably flying the Caly, or off with 'er friends 'aving
some o those 'igh quality beers she 'as stocked. I know I would be."
He looked embarrassed as he flopped down into the seat of his desk, with a half-hearted grin on his
face. "It was a bit egotistical o me y'know. When I first came in to call, I actually pictured 'er waiting for
it. Not sitting around and trying to will me to call, y'understand, but wondering if I would. O course,
there was no reason to think that. I don't tend to make that kind o impression, do I?"
As a counselor, the doll was a complete failure.
"I guess y'wouldn't know anyway. Y'just got 'ere a few days ago, but I'm obviously no kind o catch. I
doubt she felt much o anything when she was 'ere. She'd probably rather I didn't make things awkward
by calling 'er all o the way out there.
"Then again, she said she kinda liked me too, and we were going to see what we were... and 'ow would
we find out if we don't even talk to each other now and then?" His resolve almost stiffened, he
reached out for the comm controls. "But there's nothing wrong with just calling to see 'ow she is,
anyway, right?"
*****
"Guess if'n I don't do an' dare I'll never know," Jinti spoke to the computer, "Gimme Lootenant Tom
Quide on Starbase BoB.."
*****
"Ah, 'ell with it." Quide said resolutely. "Computer, connect me to Lieutenant Jinti Lamarr, USS
Caledonia."
*****
Quide was surprised when Jinti's face popped right up on the screen without any delay whatsoever.
Had she been waiting? No, more than likely she was in the middle of another conversation and she
switched over to see who was interrupting. Now how was that for bad luck? "'Ey, Jinx. I thought I'd
drop y'a line, but if y'busy I can call back later." He hated how that sounded after saying it. 'If you don't
want to talk to me now, you'll have to talk to me later.'
"Tom!" Jinti was flummoxed - had she accidentally switched 'call' anyway and he'd been listening to
her soliloquay. "Have you been there long?" she spluttered.
Tom blinked. What an odd question. Was he missing something? "I called, just now," he confirmed.
"Right before we connected. Why do y'ask?"
"Oh.. Oh.... right," she breathed a sign of relief, then grinned as the coincidence struck her. "I wuz just
tryin' ta call *you*, see. If that don't beat all. We sure is on the same wavelength," the grin broadened.
"Bloody uncanny," he said, both relieved and happy and not bothering to hide either. It occurred to
him that he should be getting used to these pleasant surprises. It seemed whenever he was the most
worried about the outcome with something involving Jinti, that was when it would turn out great.
What he didn't know, was whether that was an indication that he should stop worrying, or keep
worrying to avoid jinxing the pattern.
"Ow is life on the big bird?" he asked, deciding to press on with the conversation.
"Things is a bit funky here," she started to tell him all about the mission, the monks, and the odd
goings-on inside the dome. "So we'z orbitin' a planet with only 'bout twenty square inches of land on it,
with a bunch of weirdy types who ain't into chicks. Or animals. Ain't that jist nuts?"
Now that *was* an odd concept. "That they're not into gels is a mite odd, but I find it reassuring that
they 'aven't turned to animals."
"I'd have sent youz a holo-postcard but there ain't much by way of tourist stuff herebouts," she
chuckled. "Although there's a small beach. I think Richards wants ta go skinny dippin' He can if'n he
wants, I ain't gonna. S'pose the monks have cameras everywhere? That ain't gonna be good fer their
celibacy, peekin' at nudie chicks, even if it is only me.." she realised that sounded a bit odd. "Well, ya
know whut I means," she mumbled.
"That would be just like monks," Tom nodded. "Pervy old chaps that get y'guard lowered by pretending
they're not interested. Then, the minute y'get out on the beach and step out o y'clothes..." he paused a
moment, seeming to consider the mental image for a moment before returning to his senses - for the
most part, anyway. "Well, y'know, with the cameras and all... Anyway, glad to 'ear it's weird and a mite
creepy, but not dangerous."
"So hows it goin' back at BoB?" she could tell he was okay as there weren't any red alerts sounding,
which was pretty much a qualifier of BoB-Normal, no matter what else was going on. "It must be
evenin' in yer time-zone, right? Coz it looks pretty dark in yer quarters.."
Tom looked over his shoulder at the darkened room. Actually, between his foraged lamp, the starlight,
and his heavily adjusted eyesight, it didn't seem all that dark compared to some other parts of the
station. He hoped in that moment that he wouldn't become so adapted to the lack of light that he
would have to scurry away like a cockroach when the station lighting was finally restored.
"Actually it's the early afternoon 'ere. We 'ad some sort o storm come out o the Expanse and it fried
the station's lights. We've been wandering around in the dark for a while now." He was tempted to say
how creepy it was getting, but decided that wouldn't cast him in the best light - or lack thereof.
"Blackout? That cain't be fun. But I guess it's better'n people tryin' ta kill ya, so by BoB standards I
reckons ya got off light," Jinti grinned.
"Y'right. I'll take blackouts over interdimensional wars any day. But it's weird the kind o things that
wander around in the dark."
"Weird thangs? Like whut?" Jinti hazarded her own answers, "Thieves and burglars? The llama in a
fancy dress costume? Yer mate Reeds tryin' ta nick spare parts? Boy Scouts on orienteering badge
schemes?"
"Good guesses, but no. I saw a small band o 'ula girls just this morning. It was some scheme o Reeds'
'aving to do with the, I think fictional, Mr. and Ms. BoB Pageant. 'Ee seems intent on squeezing latinum
out o people. I even 'ave my suspicions 'ee was charging people for premium docking spaces during
storm. Though, with 'ow tight up the station seems for funding, per'aps it wouldn't be such a bad idea
after all..."
"Hula gals?" Jinti nearly leapt off her seat. "Whut - hula gals like in shimmyin' and shakin' it all about in
itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny grass skirts?"
Tom drew up the memory of the encounter in his mind. "Yes, that all sounds about right. Even 'ad
coconut tops."
"That ain't healthy fer 'em," Jinti blustered. "They oughtta put some clothes on else they'll catch their
death o'cold. A nice warm wooly jumper or summat, thass whut they need..." she mumbled,
embarrassed.
If Tom didn't know better, he'd think Jinti was jealous. And as he didn't, he did. "Actually, despite the
lack o light, it's rather stuffy on the station. I wouldn't be surprised to see all o the gels walking around
in grass skirts soon. They might even streak by without them to 'ead to the 'olodeck for some skinny
dipping o their own." It was all said in an obvious joking tone, poking fun at Jinti's apparent sensitivity.
He knew she'd be a good sport about it.
"Mmmmph..." Jinti didn't want to talk about hula gals any more. And she owed Richards a thump for
putting the worry in her mind in the first place. Although.. she'd probably tell him what he was missing
back on BoB. *That'd* annoy him. Ha. "Oh, well.. hula is as hula does.." Jinti rallied. "So apart from
things that go bump in the night, what's happenin' over there? I dunno how long we'z gonna be on this
mission - the cap'n says we'z only got two weeks afore it's gotta be sorted, so I guess we'll be back in
three if all goes to plan. Even if it is dark. Hey - whut say we grab a dinner when I hits back? I reckons
that candlelit dinners will be all the rage on BoB by then - an' we c'n catch up with all the gossip an'
stuff. If'n there ain't any invasions planned then I guess ya might be glad of sumthin' ta do, yeah?" she
was holding her breath sightly.
Tom thought to answer her about the other goings on to tell her about his outing with the Nomads,
but he couldn't quite remember if it was supposed to be Secret Squirrel level hush-hush or not. Either
way, judging by how concerned the captain seemed about it, he wouldn't want to worry Jinti over it.
Either way, she had moved on from the subject of current events quickly enough, so he did the same.
"Ow about even if the lights are back on we try for a candlelit dinner. Drinking is fun and all, but I 'ave
to show y'sometime that I can clean up nice enough too, don't I?"
Jinti privately thought that Tom always looked pretty good to her, but she didn't say so out loud as that
might seem a bit 'keen', and so she just grinned, "I might even try an' scrub up myself in that case.
Clean t-shirt, at least. Yer on - an' now ya got me kinda hopin' that it stays dark so's it don't upset our
plans."
"Right, it's set then." he said, beaming. "And don't y'worry if there is any kind o invasion, evil 'appening
or natural disaster. I'll just 'ave a word with the Fates and 'ave them postpone it until after our dinner. I
'ear they can be bribed with brandy."
"Or at the very least, get 'em so drunk they ferget ta push the 'disaster' button. Dang, now I'm wishing
the two weeks away. Summat ta come back for - that'll be real nice. Two weks seems awful long ta
wait now."
"Well, I 'ope to see y'long before then, over the comm at the very least. I'm afraid I've gotten a bit
jaded to the normal goings on o the station 'ere."
"Oh?" she gave him a sympathetic look. "Things ain't right when it's normal, is they? All we ever *say*
we want is peace an' quiet an' then when it happens it just ain't so much of a buzz. Routine gettin' to
ya?"
"Well, I don't mind telling y'that it's not quite the same since y'flew off. I've flown, and I've drunk, and
I've flown drunk, and it's all well enough, but it all seems a bit on the dull side by comparison, y'know?"
In truth, he very much minded saying it, but only because it was both one of the sappiest things he had
said to date, and because it was true. "And for the low price o 'alf a slip of latinum y'can pay me never
to say anything like that again," he added, visibly embarrassed.
"Aw, thass nice ta know," Jinti's pale blue skin flushed almost lilac. "Yeah, we wuz good together, you
an' me. I miss it too. Flying them last battles over Noo London. We wuz a team, and we kicked ass,
right? I sorta feels the same thing. Richards an' Zellers are great kids, but that ain't you. An' now *I'z*
gonna have ta shuddup elsewise I'm gonna haveta crawl under the desk ta stop myself sounding
sappy."
"Sure y'right, we're one 'ell of a team," Tom beamed. "Though, 'ard as it is may be to believe, my
favorite times with y'aven't been in the cockpit."
Before Jinti could reply, Tom's commbadge chirped. ^^"Captain to the Flight Deck. Lieutenant, expect
the Nomads shortly, they're prepped now and will be descending on you within the hour, so better get
KM gunned up and ready. I've cleared her for disembarking any time you like now. Have fun out
there."^^
"Aw crud," Jinti groaned, "She's always doin' this to us, ain't she? Ya don't think she does it on
purpose?"
"I really think she does," he said with a disappointed nod. "She 'as evidenced a desire to not want the
male staff o 'er station to be 'appy. Maybe that extends to mucking in personal affairs."
"So where ya goin', anyways, on this trainin' mission? Aimin' fer planetside somewhere, or jist flying
around?" Jinti couldn't help but wonder why Tom hadn't mentioned it before. Maybe he was going to
and just hadn't gotten around to it yet. maybe he'd thought they'd have more time to chat. But it
didn't come under the category of 'normal', or at least.... she broke off her own thoughts in some
confusion. She didn't have any right to know his every move. So why the heck was she fretting it?
"I'm not quite sure where we're going yet to be honest with ya," he said, totally dishonestly and feeling
horrible about it. "It's up to the marines' new CO. 'Ee is running this show, and I'm just the flyboy they
'ired to take them."
"Oh, well, I guess the marines always want to do their own thing. I s'pose they'll tell ya when they
make their minds up," Jinti still wasn't *entirely* at ease with the reply, but told herself fiercely to
leave it alone. Things were good - better than good, they were great - and worrying at something like a
dog with a bone would make her look just plain weird.
"I'm sure they'll let me know sometime," he agreed. "Or else we won't be going very far will we?" Tom
tried his damnedest to sound jovial and look cheerful, but he wasn't sure if he was pulling it off. It was
such a little omission in the grand scheme of things, but he had never been one to lie to those he cared
about, so he couldn't help but feel bad about it. Hopefully, after the fat lady had sung, the case was
closed, and the plumber had rescued the princess, he could give her the details, but that was up to the
crazy man-hating queen, so he didn't like his chances.
"I guess I'd better be off. I don't think those Nomads tend to enjoy waiting around." There was genuine
regret in his voice. He'd rather not close the comm when it'd be a good chunk of time before he talked
to her again.
"Yeah, better get goin' myself," she said reluctantly. "Me an' Richards are gonna do a midnight patrol,
see if'n there's anythin' weird comes crawling out of the darkness on the island. You take care out
there, yeah?"
This time, he did manage a cheerful grin. It was hard, but it did want to leave a good impression after
all. "All right, but only because y'asked me too. I 'ad planned on running the ship into an asteroid, but
I'll let the marines know I changed my mind about that."
"Catch ya when ya gets back," she gave a warm smile, even though inside she was still just a tiny bit
puzzled. "Over an' out, Songbird. See ya soon."
"Talk to y'soon, Jinx. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Skinny dipping included."
As Lieutenant Quide closed the comm console, the room darkened slightly, the only strong source of
light coming from the small lamp set on the nightstand beside his bed. He briefly thought about going
to get a drink before he reported to the flight deck to ferry the Nomads. He hadn't had one in a few
hours, and after that call ended, he felt long overdue.
He was just about to get up and go look for something, anything, to occupy the little time he had left to
him, when the closed console in front of him started beeping.
"Is Jinti calling back already? I don't know what I was worried about before - the gel can't get enough o
me!"
He flipped open the console and opened the incoming channel, but when the screen came on, it wasn't
Jinti's face he was met with, but one he hadn't seen in quite some time. Of course, he recognized it
instantly - he could never forget Kisla "Sloth" Illa. He didn't know many purple-skinned, blue-haired
women, let alone ones that had taught him to fly properly, among other things.
"Ey Sloth!" he exclaimed with a quick laugh, his gloom almost entirely disappearing and his face
breaking into an ear to ear grin. "Fancy y'being in range o a call!"
"Hey *Strits*," the cheerful reply came from the woman on the other end, the nickname said with the
sort of cruel, joking tone that could only be used properly by the immensely rude, or very old friends.
Tom let out a groan. He had hoped as soon as he had seen her face that she had forgotten about her
old name for him, but he supposed that she was about as likely to let that slip her mind as she was to
heed his pleas for her to stop using it. It was an abbreviation of one of the three middle names he had
legally removed - Stritsiber - and was one of the reasons he and his father weren't talking anymore. If it
were *ANYone* else calling him that, he would have to run them down with a Valkyrie.
All the same, he didn't let his grin wane, and shot back with Kisla's own stupid sounding name, "I'm
sorry, Grits. For a second I forgot 'oo I was speaking to."
Commander Illa reached down beyond the view of the screen and came back up with a note card. On it
was written "I am XO of the USS Scramasax." Slowly reaching down again, she pulled up another.
"We've been in range for two weeks."
Quide wasn't at all surprised to see the note cards make an appearance. Talking to Illa over
communicators was always a pain, since her telepathic suggestions of possible meanings for her verbal
cues didn't come through, and she couldn't talk in longer sentences without overexerting her throat.
What he did wonder, though, was how many note cards she had prepared, and exactly how much time
it had taken for her to methodically write each one out at her typical snail's pace.
"So what's new?" Tom asked cheerfully. "I see y'tricked someone into making y'a commander. Y'ave
come a long way since Starbase Fortitude."
Kisla gave a half shrug and after a moment of searching, held up a series of cards. "Nothing happened
worth telling." "After you were transferred, I was." "There were only a few exciting times between all
of the ships."
The commander leaned forward and flashed a decidedly flirtatious smile at Quide before holding up
another card. "I could tell you about them. Dinner in a few weeks?"
Well, great. Tom hadn't been looking forward to this. Things had been left a little unresolved when
they were forced to part ways a few years ago. Obviously, she carried a torch for him over the course
of the four years since they had last seen each other. It wouldn't be easy to break it to her that he had
a budding relationship with someone else.
"Listen Kisla, I..."
Without missing a beat, Kisla held up another note card. She hadn't even had to look for it - it was in
her hand even before Tom had begun to speak. "You'll have to tell me all about her sometime." The
written statement was punctuated by a wink, and a complete lack of disappointment.
Tom didn't know whether to be relieved or insulted over the lack of reaction, but he settled on the
former. One thing he wasn't was surprised. She had always been rather intuitive, though this was
probably more along the lines of a wild and lucky guess.
The lieutenant was about to speak again when he remembered the captain's call during his
conversation with Jinti. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry and leave now.
"Ey, Grits. I 'ave to fly. Keep y'note cards 'andy and I'll drop y'a line sometime now that I know y'out
there. It'll be a few days though, I'll be gone for a while. Y'know, important stuff, me being invaluable
and all. This station would go to pieces without me y'know." Well hey, he had to make himself sound
good somehow. She had gone and made commander and here he was a Lieutenant Junior Grade.
"Riiiiiight," was all the next card said, which was quite unnecessary, considering Kisla could have simply
said that much. Putting her hands down, the commander smiled and said simply "Fly safely," before
cutting the comm line.
She never had been much for long goodbyes. After all, she had to save all the time she could to get to
her next task at the pace she moved.
Tom got up and ran out of his quarters and onto the lower flight deck, boggling all the way at how
popular he was today. He wondered if he would have such luck with the marines. He had never really
got along with them as a rule - tall bastards that they were - but McManus and his team had been a
wholly different matter.
Suddenly, he picked up his pace, sprinting through the corridors toward the turbolift that would take
him to the upper flight deck. He hadn't considered that McManus might be coming along on this trip,
and thanks to his conversation with Kisla, he didn't have much time at all to install a safety lock on the
weapons control. There wouldn't be much to blow up while flying out in space, but if anyone could
manage to destroy something with the press of a button, it would be McManus.
*****
-Present*****
Unfortunately, when he had gotten to the KnightMare, he realized that he didn't know enough about
the computer systems to lock out the controls to unauthorized personnel. He did, however, put a piece
of yellow tape at the back of the cockpit. Perhaps nothing in the galaxy could stand up to a detachment
of Nomads, but Tom had yet to meet anyone ballsy enough to break the 'Stay behind the yellow line'
rule.
"Sorted," he said chipperly.
He anxious to be off, and was pacing at a quickstep while waiting for the marines. After all, the sooner
he left, the sooner he'd get back, and the sooner he could make a long distance call on Mulder's dime
to the Caledonia.
=/\= SB BoB - Warehousing Levels =/\=
"So what's the worst that could happen, huh?" Gigi was chatting to the small patrol team she led that
shift. "I mean, of all the things that could go wrong here?"
"Does we count the stuff that's already happened?" Crewman Sodov asked.
"Nah. Now the station freezing up, 'coz that happened a couple of years ago. When we nearly froze to
death. That was bad, with the ice creatures trying to freeze us to death, literally. So not that. Or giant
man-eating spiders. Done that. Or a bomb on the station. Done that too."
"Flooding," Crewman Phelps clicked his fingers. "The whole station floods and turns every deck into a
giant swimming pool. That could be quite fun, actually. We could have swimming races.... I'd win..." he
mimed a quick breaststroke and then gave a mock victory roar - which was cut off as a small blonde crewer slapped him affectionately upside the head. "In your
dreams, Phelps. I'd give you a run for your money any day." Crewman Rebecca Adlington chuckled.
"She would an' all," laughed her friend and fellow security crewer Jo Jackson.
"Okay ladies, you're on," Crewman Michael Phelps grinned. "Maybe a moonlight swim on the holodeck
or something, yeah?"
"Ooohh... you in swimming trunks?" Becca laughed. "Now that's an offer I can't refuse."
Gigi just shook her head at the chatter. "Flooding would be bad, sure, but we could always freeze the
water, and then, yeah, we'd have a giant ace skating rink."
"Back to freezing.." Sodov intoned. "How about fire? That'd be bad."
"Real bad," Gigi agreed. "Because fire burns oxygen and then we'd be stuck."
"Crispy Critters," Phelps added.
"Now I'm getting hot and cold just thinking about it," Becca shuddered.
"It's just the thought of Phelps in his swimming trunks," Jo Jackson snickered.
Gigi had been listening with half an ear but as the five of them finished their circuit of the empty
warehouse level she stopped and held up a hand, "You heard that?"
Silence.
"No.... ?" Becca breathed. What did you hear, Gomez?"
"I...dunno. Maybe nothing," Gigi peered into the blackness that seemed to stretch away forever,
outside of their flashlights. "Hey - there it is again.. something moved."
Five pairs of eyes strained into the darkness. Then Phelps said quietly, "Is it just my imagination, or did
it just get..even darker?"
"And the darkness... it's moving.." Jackson seemed rooted to the spot.
"Moving towards us," Becca said blankly, eyes wide as saucers. "What the hell *is* that?"
Gigi started backing slowly away. Across the far side of the warehouse, a rolling cloud of darkness
shifted and edged towards them. "Scan for lifesigns," she hissed as they all started a steady. controlled
retreat.
Sodov was already on it, "There's nothing there," he said, not entirely convinced.
"But something is.." Phelps muttered.
"Keep moving, keep it steady," Gigi placed herself in front of the other four so she was first in line
facing the darkness. "It's nothing, right? It's a trick of the light."
"But there isn't any light.." Sodov said bleakly.
They had reached the doors now, and Becca thumped the release mechanism. They all breathed a
quiet sign of relief as they were able to step sharply through and close the doors firmly after them.
"Okay, what the hell just happened there?" Phelps stared at the closed doors. "Do we go back in?"
"For what?" Gigi said, hitting the call-pad for the turbolift. "There was nothing in the darkness. It was
just... darkness."
"It *was* the darkness," Jackson muttered.
"I'm going to send a report to the CO," Gigi said as the lift sped upwards to the next level. "We didn't
find any sentient alien or anything. We just... saw shadows. Big shadows. And maybe it's.. something in
the air. Something in the atmosphere. Maybe there's a gas pr something that escaped that made our
eyes play tricks on us."
"Disrupted our sensory perception?" Becca Adlington tried to sound positive. "Yeah. Could be."
"Best the Captain knows, anyway," Gigi stated, tapping away a brief report and sending it to Mulder's
comm. "Now I make it time for break. Come on.. whose turn is it to get the donuts?"
=/\= Inside the Warehouse area =/\=
The darkness swirled lazily, ebbing and flowing like a small, quiet tide. There was a sense there,
although not a conventional one. They had been partly right. It was the darkness - or rather, something
in the darkness.
It was real. It was finding it's own way.
There was a small scurry and a muffled squeak as another warehouse rat made a dash out from behind
some crates. It's animal senses knew there was danger, but it had no idea where the danger came
from.
It soon found out.
Moments later, there was another squeak that was cut off as it rose to a squeal of pure terror.
Then, all that was left was a rat skeleton. Gleaming white bones. Small and perfectly intact.
The darkness was discovering what it could do, and what it needed. And it was discovering hunger.
=^= SB BoB - In the Darkness =^=
François, Vivianne and Mike were answering a emergency call at the other end of the station. The
doctor had sent Vivianne and Mike at first but realise quickly that they wanted him to join them. They
blame it on lack of experience and wanted a doctor in chance of worse case scenario. A man that call
for help and is screaming in pain and seem very upset usually has little chance of dying. He had decided
to let it go and join them for an afternoon walk in the dark.
"Those corridors seem darker then yesterday" said Vivianne.
"It all in your head, luv" Mike had a grin.
"Luv? you really want a beating don't you boy"
"From you , anything as long that's in my bed"
"ahhhhh..." she had both fist close .
"Kids, enough let concentrated on not getting lost and finding this chap, it seem important."
"He said to come in from the secondary door" Mike was still confuse about that one.
"Secondary? what for?" Doctor expressing the same confusion
"Might be related to his injury" answer Vivianne looking at them like the weren't very logical.
"L'mer would be proud of you"
"Who's L'mer?" ask the nurse
"His Vulcan lover" said mike "didn't know they could make love, thought they look at their partners for
reproduction purposes."
"Shut up Mike, and she a friend, so let it go"
"Does she does special think, I mean are they wild in bed, like out of control..beast of desire, screaming
and crying" Mike raise his voice with each word.
"Shut up Mike or I promise nobody will ever find you in this darkness...ever"
"Is that a treat?"
"No, it a promise, didn't you listen"
"Guys, the door here..." Vivianne cut them off.
"He said that it was across the station" said mike.
Has he made a few pace forward the door tried to open and a scream was let out and Mike back away.
"Secondary door Mike, secondary door, moron" Vivianne slap him behind the head.
"The doctor made his way trough the secondary door. The place was pinch black as he move slowly
forward toward the other door followed closely by his men at arm he realise slowly the big picture.
After a few steps again forward he saw the situation. They all turn trying no to laugh, they need to be
in control. "What happen sir" said the doctor.
"I can hear you laughing moth... F...." he answered very upset.
"Sir with all do respect it rare that we see this type of situation." said the doctor almost unable to
answer.
"what, you think I did this on purpose"
"No sir, but how did this get in there stuck between the door.." so many questions...
"I was taking my shower in the dark, like everyone else in this blasted station. Then I came to get my
robe when I slip on this " pointing at the baseball bat " and in the pain back away to get stuck in the
door.
The three of them turn and burst laughing "Sorry sir, but this is unordinary"
"I'm sure everyone dreams about having a baseball bat in the arse" said the man.
"How did it kind got in, I mean like it kind of big, and well you know" Said Mike.
"You freaking idiot, piece of shit" the all smile trying as hell not to laugh again "How am I suppose to
know!"
"Ok sir, it ok, well transport you to the infirmary and will remove the object. the doctor press is
combadge.
"Transporter room two to transport and private room 3 in the infirmary."
"Acknowledge" said a voice.
Vivianne and the patient disappear and Mike and François burst laughing "He really had shitty luck."
"that what I call a homerun"
"Shitty hole"
"shitty bat"
After about five minute they were able to breath normally. All sudden the became serious, both of
them had felt look upon.
"You felt that?"
"Yeah, anyone here?" ask mike
"Let get back to the infirmary" said the doctor getting out of the quarter..
"Let jog a bit" answered Mike.
=/\= SB BoB - Brig =/\=
Stanley Slough was not an imaginative man. In fact, one of his strengths was a lack of imagination,
which made him an excellent Brig Chief on BoB. He saw what he saw in black and white, filed in
triplicate and duly forwarded to all relevant parties. he lived for order and good sound common sense.
Which was why he was worried, and anyone who saw him ought to be worried. Because Stanley
Slough was looking over his shoulder at things he knew weren't there.
The day had passed uneventfully enough. He had the prisoner Havane safely parked in a cell away from
the main run, and a few itinerant civilians occupying other cells - mainly for petty offences such as
shoplifting. There were always those that would try and take advantage of any situation, and profit
dishonourably by it. Security wasn't being as lenient as they might otherwise have been - they needed
to set an example, and so petty criminals found themselves incarcerated for longer than they might
usually expect.
Also guests of the brig were the captain and first officer of a scrap metal salvage freighter who's gotten
wildly drunk in a bar on the lower prom and started brawling. They could sober up for a day or two.
So Slough had duly filled in his reports and checked his guests had sufficient water and meals, and
done his shirt patrol of the brig with clockwork efficiency.
As usual at 1630 hours, the incoming two Beta shift crewers had gone off to get donuts to see them
through to the midnight hour, when Gamma Shift would relieve them. Although his own shift
technically finished at 1600 hours, Slough always stayed on for an extra hour to cover handover and
basically because he didn't have anywhere lese much to go.
There was a 'crack' as a light bulb in one of the ancient emergency lamps popped, and Slough
grumbled under his breath. Fortunately, there were no prisoners plunged into darkness in that row, so
he dug out a spare bulb and trundled over to replace. it.
That was when he stopped, with the unaccustomed sensation of the hairs on the back of his neck
standing upright.
He turned around quickly, but there was nothing to be seen.
Except.. was that something in the shadows? He peered, screwing his eyes up, but could see nothing
except the darkness.
There was an odd silence in the brig, even the inhabitants who were making desultory conversation to
the adjoining cells were quiet.
Slough gave a firm 'harrumph' and stalked towards the broken light, wondering why he felt that he had
to get there *quickly*. Why it mattered...
Grabbing the dead bulb and ignoring the fact that it burnt his fingers, he quickly twisted the
replacement into the socket, all the time trying to ignore the fact that the darkness was racing him,
trying to reach that corner before he finished.
With a sigh of relief, the light shone forth again, and he stepped away, seeing the shadows melt back.
The chatter started up again, louder than before, as if trying to overcome nerves, and at the same time
the two on-duty crewers returned laden with coffees and pastries.
"Heyup, Chief, we got a whole job-lot," one of then grinned. "They were selling some of cheap. Want
to stay for a coffee and a bite?"
"Actually, yes. Yes I will. Thank you Crewman," Slough hoped he wasn't perspiring too much. Normally
he would have thanked them courteously but departed anyway. Right now, he felt he'd rather have a
bit of company before venturing out into the dark.
It was perhaps a mark of the whole oddness of the situation that the two crewman didn't even seem
surprised. "Great, here y'go, Chief" A box was opened. "Want one with sprinkles?"
=/\= SB BoB - Sick Bay =/\=
There having been a lull in his work load, Reeds steadily made his way through the station, trying to
find his way to the infirmary in the dark. This process resulted in getting lost numerous time, but he
found ways to make his trek worth his while. Some of his unexpected detours ended up leading him to
a young man's wallet, an unguarded purse, and a neat watch that you could be programed to
manipulate hundreds of brands of television sets.
After hiding his small haul and locating a layout of the station, he finally found himself outside of sick
bay. He was long overdue to start his physiotherapy, but contrary to his previous beliefs, he had been
expected to work despite his weakened condition - he hadn't even finished his book yet. Sure, it wasn't
anything too physical, but had been under the impression that being off active duty meant he would
actually get time off. He should have known Lieutenant Quide wouldn't think so. He'd have to write up
an official complaint when he found the time.
Walking through the doors, the crewman looked around in the dim light, trying to distinguish medical
staff from those who had come in for treatment after running headlong into something or other in the
dark. "Is the doctor in?" he called out to no one in particular.
"Yes" answered Mike behind him as he put his hand on his shoulder "You are?"
"My name is Crewman Reeds. I was assigned to physiotherapy some time ago. I was wondering if the
doctor had time to start it now, or at least set up an appointment."
Mike gave a smile, the doctor was already double book but then again he wasn't busy enough, he still
had time to take sips of coffee between patients "Sure, his not that busy, follow me"
As he walk he could see the number of patients , they were for the majority little minor wounds that
the nurses could fix. As the door open the doctor could be seen in surgery gear. "Doctor" yelled Mike "
Someone for physio"
The doctor look at mike with eye that reflected more hatred then anything before seeing Reeds behind
"If it's not our marvelous pilot" putting a smile. "Follow me.
Reeds trailed after the doctor as he led further into the sickbay, toward a back room. "I don''t know
about any marvelous pilot," he commented sincerely. "I just sit in the back of the ship and make things
explode."
"So how everything? I don't hear that much for you guys, always in and out" entering a room "So what
can I do for you"
"Everything is fine for the most part. The damaged ships have been repaired, the weapons systems
have been converted, and now it's just business as usual. Which brings me to my problem." He rotated
his shoulder as if it were aching, which it was. "Luckily most of my duties are mostly non physical, but
my muscles are weak and constantly ache."
"Right, which part are we working on?" taking his surgery gear off and putting his white coat.
Reeds gestured broadly around his torso. "My chest, my shoulders, and arms. I don't know if Dr. Conley
sent you the report or not, but they received serious plasma burns and had to be partially
reconstructed."
"he did, just when you have so many you tend to sometimes get patient confuse" he smile as the nurse
came in smile at Reeds and gave the doctor a PADD "And why I have good assistant" he look at the
PADD.
"So what is the plan, doctor?"
"Well basically certain motion and weight to get those muscle back in shape and stronger. Bones
weren't affected so I don't see any issues." he put the PADD down and then move closer to his patient.
"That doesn't sound too difficult," Reeds said, relieved to hear that the process at least sounded simple
enough. "Do you have time to fit me in for a session now, or should I schedule to come back?"
" Will do a small session now , then will schedule weekly sessions" he wave for him to get on the
ground on his back "alright first thing first let see how strong are the muscles" he took a medicine ball
and put it on top of him " grab the ball and hold as long as you can then drop it on the side you feel the
less comfortable on" he smile.
The crewman was more than happy to get started right away - anything to get rid of the constant
feeling of weakness. He laid himself down on the ground and took the medicine ball. He immediately
noticed it felt a lot heavier than it looked like it should be, but that was a problem with him, and not
the equipment. It took all of his concentration to hold it at first - after that, it didn't feel any lighter, but
at least he was able to maintain it with only slight and occasional grunting.
"So while your holding, how do you like it here? " he smile looking at a PADD and not the patient
"don't forget breath in by nose breath out by mouth, you can grunt, scream, cry whatever does it for
you" his remark was said like it was said a million times and would denied like any other patient.
"I'll probably take you up on that," Reeds muttered through another grunt as he shifted to try to put
more of the weight on his right arm, which seemed to be the stronger of the two - an odd change,
considering he was left handed. "Well, it isn't dull, I'll give it that," he nearly growled in effort in
response to the doctor's original question. "No sooner do I get here... wow, this is heavy... than we're
pulled into another universe, and as soon as we get back to... phew... put our feet up, the captain
forgets to pay the light bill. Urgh..."
"By the way, you meant my double on the mirror universe, we need to talk about some strange things
that was said..."he left it at that.
Now that the doctor mentioned it, he was the spitting image of that gangster that Reeds had reneged
on his deal with for the Cold Fire specs. Reeds was amazed he hadn't noticed it before, but he decided
to blame his current physical situation and the horrible lighting for it. On the bright side, this new
wrinkle was diverting his mind from the seemingly impossible task of keeping the ball aloft.
"Who is your double and what did he say?" Reeds asked, his voice brimming with ignorant curiosity.
He had problem revealing who he had kill in the past "The leader of the black dragons"
"A gangster... and he met a Starfleet pilot?" the crewman went to shrug and nearly lost the ball. His
muscles ached from the strain of regaining the balance of it. "Did he mention a name?"
"No" their he lied, but was diplomate enough to hide it "No name"
"Well, it could have been Lieutenant Quide then, since I don't know anything about it. But..." With a
grunt and a wheeze, the crewman found he had absolutely no strength left to continue holding the
medicine ball, and just barely avoided dropping it on his chest. "...but he doesn't seem the type to get
involved in anything shady. It might have been someone from the CTC going undercover to infiltrate
the gangs."
"Good hypothesis" everyone on bob had something to hide, this pilot made no exeption.
"Thank you," Reeds said, looking pleased with the praise. "I've read a detective novel or two, and it
seems like something that might fit." Well, at least that much wasn't a lie.
"Good job with the medicine ball" he smile "Now get up, put your arm up high." AS he did he put
elastics underneath his feet "grab the elastic and put up and keep"
"Ugh, more?" Reeds wasn't at all surprised, but his aching arms protested the very notion of further
work. So loudly were they protesting once he started to pull on the elastic, that their cries of injustice
could be heard through Reeds' mouth. "This is so unfair," he muttered.
This exercice never lasted long since gravity and the leg were usually a lot stronger that triceps alone.
"Take deep breath"
The crewman did as he was told and took a long, deep breath, at the end of which he lost his grip on
the elastic bands, sending them snapping down onto his feet. It didn't hurt, but he was briefly tempted
to act like they did so he could sue. He decided against it when he realized that the doctor could tell
whether or not they were actually injured, and then he could make Reeds' life miserable for the rest of
his posting here through substandard care and mislabeled medication.
"Why did you arrive on bob again?" the question was more for small talk then anything.
"One of my superiors didn't like me on my previous posting," Reeds said truthfully, though he made it a
point not to mention the reason. "And I suppose BoB has been in need of pilots for some time, so I was
went here. How about you?"
He smile "Me it was a set of twins" he started laughing "wrong set that is... Alrigth you did good, go see
Mike he'll schedule weekly times , specify if you prefer a nurse to a male doctor." he wink. "Take care
pilot." As he walk out the door. He had put on his personal PADD that he would eventually talk to him
about Frank....
Reeds walked out and scheduled his next few appointments. He didn't bother to make a note that he
preferred one sex to another and simply said he'd take whoever was available. Only when he was just
about to leave sickbay did he remember that Lieutenant Quide had wanted him to pick up a large
supply of stimulants. He remembered how Quide had shot a whole mess of those into himself to keep
his edge during the battle with the Ha'agen, and wondered how someone with several notable
substance abuse problems could walk around without mandatory counseling, let alone lead a
department.
Sighing, Reeds turned around to make the requisition. He would never understand Starfleet.
=/\= SB B BoB habitat decks =/\=
Two beams crossed at ninety degrees, scanning the corridor in motion. The darkness was like a not so
warm and fuzzy blanket that encompassed BoB like an unforgiving piece of pastry. Avril scanned her
beam around, her eyes matching the slow movement. Every so often, she would pause, return the
beam and look again. The orange sodium beam would drift from post to the peculiars of the
crewmans' imagination.
"That Archangel, he came looking for you," Avril told the Counsellor.
"Yeah, I found him," smiled the counsellor who hovered to her left. "Was it Archangel, or Boston?" she
enquired. She wasn't actually sure herself. As to who she was copping off with exactly.
Avril shrugged, "I figured that it was Archangel. That's what I said to him, Archangel. Ooh, look at that."
Avril broke off to wander over to the pile that was caught in her orange hue. "So. does it matter,
whether it was Archangel, or *Boston*?" she asked, retrieving a stylus to poke the debris.
"I think it does, yes," Arihana pointed her own beam, a greener shade in hue, and walked over. "They
are two entirely different people. Whatcha got?" she asked, scuffing the remenants of debris with a
boot.
"You're copping off with two different people, you hussy. I don't actually know," replied the crewman,
retrieving a tricorder.
"I'm not *copping off* as you so eloquently put it," grumbled Dharma. "I neither confirm or deny that I
am in any sort of relationship. Bones." She commented looking over the womans' shoulder.
"Rat." Stated Avril.
"Hmm. Yeah, saw some with the Doc, but they'se odd," Arihana shrugged to wander away.
"They are, the carbon denisity and the half life degradation is really off," Avril discerned from her data.
"But never mind. Are you, or aren't you? This is Archangel. A rock star. Like a celebrity."
Arihana frowned to swerve her beam. She had seen something. A movement. Something, and it was
motion. "Wha'?" she moved slowly, shunting her beam.
"You're fairly normal, yes, you're actually a sovereign ruler of a small inter quadrant colony," nodded
Avril.
"Yep,normal," murmured the counsellor, wishing she had her bat with her. "Come on, what and
where...."
"But this is what we read in like 'Hello', and 'Tattle', you of all people. Don't you realise," Avril sounded
almost aggrieved. "It's not right, you know. Once people know, that he's dating, like you, a random
member of the public. There'll be a horses bridle in your bed."
Arihana was only half listening. She flicked the beam down a few radons, reducing luminscence to stop
it bouning around on the walls, and split the reflected light.
"He's a rock god, Archangel, Boston, and he's taking you home!" Avril shrilled indignantly.
"Avri, shine your beam will you, take it to purple, please," Arihana commanded, flexing her own beam.
"Yep," conformed the counselling yeoperson. "Setting to fixed array purple."
The toys were a new CVAS Special. A low radiation based light emitting source poured by poly
unsaturated fats derived from corn. There was a organical chemical compound in the main cartridge
that resulted in the different colour beams. White was magnesium for sharp quick beams. Sodium was
orange for a reduced glare. Potassium was purple for close inspection. Iodine gave grey-blue splodges
when sugar and carbon based compounds were identified.
Each unit was currently being marketed for seventy quid a go. These were prototypes before there was
a commercial contract created. At the moment, there were three bids for batches that were a
hundred, two hundred and six hundred strong.
The dark was scattered with a purple hue that was created. Every now and again, the Luminatus mark
one unit would switch to iodine blue and grey with a foray onto rat bones.
"Just rats," stated Dharma. "We needed to poke housekeeping. Boston, or Archangel for that matter, is
not taking me home. I am not some take away."
"Then why don't you comfirm or deny it," Avril asked.
"Whatcha want me to do?" The counsellor was not getting irritated. "Hmm, should I 'ring up Hello, tell
'em to do a ten page glossy with Arihana Dharma, the Anti-WAG. I am not corrupting the Archanagel,
perhaps as the by line. What the feck, it's moving again."
"Yeah, what was that," Avril scanned around again. "Anti-WAG would be about right. Don't bloody
marry this one."
"Feck no, no thanks," Arihana replied quickly. "Am quite happy with the sinning."
"Am telling you now, no girl, or woman alive will thank you."
"Do me a favour, start a bleedin' rumour." Arihana fiddled with the Luminatus. "Anything."
"Who you want, Doctor, that fella Mike," Avril had a list in mind. "May be all the nomads, girls
included, there's BoBcat Quide, that dude Reeds. Baxter."
Arihana suddenly started laughing. "If Baxter wasn't married. I'd say start that one. If he wasn't
married, that's probably where I would start. Had said so himself, that were he not spliced. He'd be
beating my door down. But go on, I'm listening. Switching back to Orange." She shook the unit again,
and tweaked a dial to go back to streetlamp orange.
She returned to slow careful scanning.
"Well, we can't besmirch the colonel," Avril mused still. "Your swoon and stalk tendency there is public
knowledge, ruled out anyone. Do you want me to make this up?"
"If this shuts you up, and stops you prying about Boston. Yes, go head."
"So you *are*!"Avril exclaimed, stopping dead. "Oh, please go back to stalking the Colonel," she
pleaded.
Arihana stopped and looked at Avril. "No. I'm fickle. And the colonel has got the one stalker enough.
Start your bloody rumour, will you," huffed Arihana. "Don't give a rat's rear end..."
"Oh, there's one...."
"Very droll," tutted Dharma. "Tell the world I worked my way 'round the base, so much for a repuation.
But for the love of Jose, stop banging on about Boston."
Avril raised an eyebrow. "All right," she concured. "I will," she turned her nose and drifted of forwards
again.
It was with that, that Arihana suddenly realised that she was done for. Today, she was trying to keep a
lid on it. But tomorrow, it would al become a can of worms, and entirely more worrying.
=/\= SB BoB - Command Centre =/\=
"Captain, we've just had an incoming transmission from the USS Archangel," Lupha waved across the
room to Mulder.
"Oh? Nothing's wrong, I hope?"
"No, not at all. They aren't docking, they're just on a fly-past. But they say they've managed to pick up
their replacement crew now, so they can return Lieutenant Vega to us."
"Good timing," Mulder nodded, pleased. "We could sure do with an extra pair of hands around here.
What's their ETA?"
"They'll be coming within range in about five minutes. They say then can beam her directly here, if
that's okay with you?"
"All good by me. Tell them to go for it."
*****
Alicia smiled as she said goodbye. "Captain, as always, it's been a pleasure."
Captain A'amael looked at her, "And back at you as well. Always welcome here on the Archangel,
lieutenant."
"Thanks. I'll see you guys in a few weeks." She said. "BoB, energize." And with that she saw her last
images of the Archangel, and her next image was of the familiar sight of BoB. "Back to the madness,"
she thought as she stepped off. Wondering where all the lights were.
*****
"Welcome back, Lieutenant," Mulder smiled. "I trust you had an interesting trip?"
"Being TAD is always fun. Nice being on a ship for a while I can tell you that. But, I missed the place a
little too much." She said.
"It is kind of addictive, isn't it? Still, it's good you had a new experience in the security world. Now,
you'll notice it's a bit dark around here..." Mulder waved a hand around the Command Centre. She was
almost getting used to it now. The emergency spotlights stood in each corner, sending harsh beams of
light onto all the consoles. The consoles themselves blinked and glowed with their multi-coloured
access panels. And outside, the faint starlight filtered in through the viewports.
"I'm guessing I missed something good," she said as she looked around. She was thinking that it was
probably good she wasn't here for this one.
"To cut a long story short, a few weeks ago Science picked up a really violent storm brewing in the
Typhon Expanse. It hit us fast and hard. Fortunately there was no real damage done to the station,
except a bolt of electrical lightening or something managed to get through the shields. It shorted out
the entire lighting circuit, so we've been in darkness ever since." Mulder sighed.
"Darkness eh, Spotlights seem to be helping cap'n." She said.
"Heh, yes, the novelty soon wears off though. We're making do with emergency spotlights in all the
main access areas, and everyone has been issued with torches and flashlights - make sure you replicate
yourself one as soon as you can." Mulder paused then added, "Things are a little odd, though. There's
been a few strange reports about the darkness, as if something's not quite right. Almost all of us myself included - have noticed it. So be alert when you get back on patrol. Be sure to have a light with
you at all times."
"What creeps in the dark huh. Did you tell Commander Matttingly I was coming?" She said, wondering
why he wasn't there with chocolate melting on a console.
Mulder grinned, "Actually, I think I'll let you tell Commander Mattingly that you're back in person. I'm
sure it'll make his day."
"Aye aye captain. Permission to report for duty." She said with a smile, happy that she was back home
on the place that jumpstarted her career, or at least a jumpstart for BoB standards.
"Permission granted, Lieutenant - carry on. Get back out on the mean streets of BoB."
"See ya later." Vega took her lime green phaser out her bag and attached it to her hip, wondering
where the rest of the department was.
Mulder blinked once. Was that a lime green phaser? Naaaah.. Borg didn't go for lime green phasers.
Must be a trick of the light...
=^= Security Office =^=
Baxter Mattingly was sitting in his office trying to finish a few reports that had piled up since Vega had
disappeared. Not that she'd actually disappeared, but someone had stolen her. Baxter had not liked
that one little bit.
He wasn't helped by the fact that it was dark. He'd just finished a patrol down in the nether regions of
the base and he still felt creepy. It wasn't exactly the fact that his boots had crunched along on top of
rat bones; more rat bones than he'd ever found there before. It wasn't exactly the fact that he felt
something was watching him. It wasn't even exactly the fact that he had to keep looking over his
shoulder because he felt, well, weird. He couldn't explain it.
And now, Baxter was having another one of those feelings. He glanced around his office to see if there
were any shadows or rat bones. Nothing. Just his usual friendly darkness.
Still, he had that eerie feeling one got when something good was going to happen to you. That
something good feeling was always eerie on BoB, mainly because all good things came in prickly
packages.
"Lime green," Baxter thought. "Lime green packages. Say, that's it. That's what color I can paint the
baby's room! Bingo!"
Then he went back to the reports. They were dull. Did hte captain really care how many toilets they'd
confiscated from the GSS Ballroom or how many toes the captain of the IRS Falcon had on his left foot
and then on his right - the number was not even. And did Captain Mulder truly want to know how
many studs they'd found in the cargo hold of the TRP Hunicutter. "Studs," Baxter mused, "maybe she
would care about the studs." He looked at the information from one of his team and sighed. "No, nuts
and bolts type of studs, not the manly studs."
"I sure wish Vega was here," Baxter said to himself. "She was the best girlie assistant I've ever had.
Why I'd give her a raise if she'd walk in the door right now."
=^=Dharma quarters =^=
It was probably kismet, but Boston Zaire had chosen this particular moment, movie time, to actually
arrive at teh Dharma door with a movie. He wasn't sure if it was the right kind and he wasn't sure if
he'd be welcome, but those things usually didn't stop Boston. The worst that could happen was a door
in the face. He'd seen his share of those, so where was the harm?
He rang the chime.
Suraj was up rooted from his mothers' lap and repositioned further down the sofa as the penguins
looped for the second time. Arihna trudged towards the door to see who was calling on them.
"Hi!" he said. "I found a movie and wondered if you'd like to watch it with me, both of you."
"Hello," Arihana said, sticking her hands into her pockets. "Whatcha got?" she asked inquisitively, this
movie marathon had just gotten more interesting.
He held it up. "It's something about a little mermaid. I heard the songs the other day and was
impressed."
"Did he say Mermaid?"Suraj piped up from the sofa. His ears had pricked up. Another Disney classic, he
couldn't believe his luck.
"Is it any good then?" he asked.
"Step into our parlour," Arihana smiled to pull Boston in. "We'll soon find out, I won't give anything
away."
"It's the songs, you see," Boston said. "I may be the only one in the universe that chooses movies based
on songs."
"Make yourself at home," Arihana told Boston, pointing towards the sofa in the lounge. "As you can
see, we don't do anything else. Would you like a cuppa?" she asked, leaning across a sofa. "Just 'bout
to boil the kettle.I need one, if I see another penguin...."she whispered it, lest the kid get upset.
Boston grinned and winked at her. "A cuppa will be just right about now," he added. "Penguins and
mermaids both swim, so the movies have a common factor."
"Mermaid?" Suraj eyed the display case. He looked rather scary with it.
"Mermaid," Boston said. "Redheaded with a fin-like tail. I think she meets a fish, a witch and some kind
of duke or something. Have you heard of it?"
"Ne-oow,"Suraj shook his head, and grasped at the movie. "We can watch it though."
"Think I'll like it?" he asked.
The boy shrugged, "Dunno, I just like the stories and colours."
"Shall we play it?" he asked.
"Good plan," nodded Suraj. "Who made it?"he enquired.
"Disney, I think," Boston said. "I think there's one with some kind of beast and a woman called Pretty
or something."
"Beauty," grumbled the kid. "Beauty and the Beast."
"Beauty, that's it, you're right," Boston said. "I might have that one, too."
"My mum," Suraj pointed towards the kitchen, "has a thing about the songs. Here, lemme," he flexed
his hands like crabs' pincers. "I'l play it in a second."
Boston got up and went over to see how Arihana and the cup were coming along.
"I hope I'm not barging in," he said. "I felt like I needed a port in the dark."
"Oh, no," Arihana shook her head in reply, "You're more tham welcome, it's quality time, that is well
over due. That, and I'm bordering on hating penguins," she smiled to hand boston a mug. "So you're a
lucky fluke, in turning up."
He touched her arm briefly with his fingers and then sipped from his mug. "You make a good brew," he
said. "I'm glad I turned up, too."
"As long as you don't mind childish movies," she whispered."Suraj and I, we are but simple creatures
with simple minds. We are therefore, both easily pleased."
"I like a good movie," he said, "and Disney is the best. I don't mind a quiet evening with or without
penguins."
"Pull up a cushion, Boston," Arihana led them both back into the lounge, and dropped herself slowly
into the couch. "Suraj, c'mon, then, sorted?" she asekd as he scurried back and sat between her and
Boston.
Boston looked at the boy and grinned. Handholding seemed out at the moment.
"Ursula," Arihana whispered over ther son's head. "Is not a nice girl. She'll probably scare him, best he
stays there. Sorry."
"Not a problem at all," he said. "Isn't it too scary to watch then?"
"Oh, it's all right," Arihana told them both, smirking a little. "It's Disney," she added, knowing what lay
ahead.
"Well, I've never seen it," he said. "I hope you're going to hold our hands when that part gets here."
There was more than one way to skin a cat.
"We'll see,"Arihana simply smirked, this was after all, going to the movies on the cheap.
As they watched the movie, Boston managed, to put an arm up on the top of the couch so that his
hand could barely touch Arihana's shoulder. A finger moved along her shoulder whenever the songs
turned romantic. "Kiss that girl," Boston said. "Would you do that, Suraj or would you run?"
"Oh, I'd run," replied the boy.
"Still, it's romantic," Boston added. "Does this have a happy ending?"
"I dunno," shrugged Suraj, rubbing his eyes. His bed time was about hald an hour ago.
"I'm hoping for one," he added.
"I bet," Arihana replied, reaching behind to deliver a chinese burn to the wrist fighting with the cushion
to get near her. She turned towards Boston with something of 'hold your horses' look.
Boston grinned and removed the offending hand.
"I'm tired,"Suraj mumbled, wrapping himself around Bostons' arm as the credits rolled.
Boston very gently wrapped the arm that held the offending hand around Suraj. "Been a long day," he
said softly to the boy.
"Take him in," Arihana pointed towards the the door to the boy's room. "I'll get you another tea."
Boston easily lifted Suraj up and carried him to his room. "That was a good show, Suraj," he said. "I'll
see if I can find some more for another night. I don't get to watch many good movies like that often
enough."
Boston turned down the bed, holding Suraj with one arm, half fluffed the pillow and then placed the
boy in this bed, lifting the covers closer to his chin.
"Nunight, Boston,"Suraj chuntered as he pulled up the spiderman duvet, and departed for the land of
nod.
"Night, Suraj," Boston said. "Sleep tight and don't let any bedbugs bite."
For some reason, Boston left Suraj's door partly open so that light drifted into his room.
"What was so important, that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself?"Arihana got the question out
quickly, having to put her hands aloft.
"That was not me not being able to keep my hands to myself," Boston said, taking the cup of tea that
waited for him. "That was me just wanted to know you were near." He made a half grab for her.
"All good things come to those who wait," she returned, peeling hands away. "Is it me, or you got a
one track mind?" she asked rather seriously to pull away.
Boston remained absolutely mellow. He had no idea why she was acting like this. "Haven't you ever
snuggled in a movie?" he asked. "That's all it was. Your son was in the room. Do I look like some sex
fiend?"
Arihana looked at Boston, more like a lost sheep more than anything. Was a fairly non-commital zoned
out response.
"I don't think I look like one," he said.
"Boston, look," she sighed deeply, to stop the knee jerk reaction that was her forte. "I have just spent
time with my little boy. I wasn't Counsellor, or commander. But mummy. The last thing I want to do,
sweetheart, is..."Arihana shook her head and landed back onto the sofa. "*that*.
"That," Boston said, "is not on my mind. I just want to sit and talk."
"And no, I don't want to sit here and have you stare longingly into my eyes, whilst you compare me to
a summer rose, either," Arihana was bordering on irritable. "Euf, I can't win, and neither can you."
"It's not a contest," Boston said.
Arihana sat her head back, letting everything go slack. "Order a chinese, find me a bottle of nice crisp
white.I'm going to go write a report, whilst he's asleep. Then I'm going to bed."
"All right," he said. "I'll go pick up something and come back."
She stood and stretched out. "I'll be over there," an index finger was flxed at the dining table. One half
of which was groaning under the weight of texts and padds.
Boston went out and to the Promenade where he promptly found Chinese and a bottle of said nice
crisp white. He wasn't even recognized because he'd forgotten his light. On the walk back, he kept
glancing around. Something was bothering him. He was relieved when he got back and set up the meal
for Arihana.
Whilst Boston was out doing his hunter-gatherer thing, Arihana was having a fight with a commital
report. Darkness drove people to all sorts.
Then he was back. "It's a very nice chinese," Arihana replied, one hand clutching chopsticks that had
precariously grasped at a prawn. The other hand twirled a stylus. "And the plonk aint bad neither," she
smiled.
"Good," he said, half eating, looking at the door.
"Are you out of sorts?" he asked.
"This is my life, Boston. I did give you a choice," she stated. "You made your bed, and we've both lain in
it."
"You don't need to keep mentioning bed like I'm trying to drag you into one," Boston said. "This is a
relationship we're working on not the sex Olympics for pity's sake. Where is your bed? You look tired."
"Ten minutes, and then I'm going to find it. My bed. Not yours.." Arihana scribbled out a comment,
before stacking padds together. "I plan to sleep. You can do what you like."
Boston looked at the door. "I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight," he said.
"Your call," shrugged Arihana, slinging back the alcohol.
"Just think I should," he said, not wanting to say anything more. She'd think it was some kind of
gimmick to get in her bed.
"As you please, then," she returned.
"The dark," he said. "Outside in the corridor. There was something there, but there wasn't."
"Oh?"Arihana was too tired to give it any thought. "You coming, or going?"
"Still, I'm staying," he said, going over to the couch and sitting down.
"You are?"she yawned and rubbed her eyes to refocus. This was not good.
"Just say I'm afraid of the dark, okay?" he asked.
"Night, babe,"Arihana turned towards her room, she was half out of it already.
"Good night, Arihana," Boston said half preoccupied and giving the impression she could walk past him
half dressed and he wouldn't notice. "I'll just look in on Suraj for a moment."
"hmmf,"nodded Arihana, closing her door.
He went to the door and looked in. Then he opened it further before going back to the couch.
Arihana undressed and buried herself under the covers.Alone She slept for a while. Only to be woken
at five thirty three by her nagging head. It was combination of alcohol and guilt. Lumbering the covers
backs, she drifted out of her bed and out of her room. Padding slowly into the lounge, Arihana cast her
shadow over the edge of the couch to see the Boston was asleep.
She smiled to see that he was wrapped up in the same anchored embossed duvet from last time.
Slowly she walked around and tugged the eiderdown from under his arms to lever herself in.
Arihana wasn't about to apologise for being a moody cow, but hoped that this would just about cover
it.
=^= BoB - Lower Promenade - Green Lantern Pub =^=
Mike was happy to be with bodies, the darkness was overwhelming by moment, especially after what
happen with the doctor in the dark quarter. As he turn his head he notice a lovely lady, he heard from
source that she was the new nanny for Dharma. She was alone, he decided he might take the
opportunity and learn more about the Dharma clan.
He walk forward with two new pint of beer "Want some compagny or is it strictly forbiden over the
age of twelve?" he gave her a large grin "I bought peace offering if the last comment offended you"
showing the beer.
"oh, cheers," Avril made a thumbs up sign, a free beer was always nice.
"Hi, I'm Mike ,doctor Bonnenfant assistant, you know the one that have the love-hate relationship
with your boss" he gave a wink.
"Yeah, i've heard," Avril chuckled.
"Pleasure to meet you" putting his hand forward "I guess we have alot of thing to say to each other
about our respective employers" he gave a warm smile. "how did you get here anyway?"
"I flew, like most people," Avril answered, shaking the proffered hadn. "But you are after something,"
she said taking a sip of the frothy beer. "This is you trying to get something. Whatcha after?"
"You taking a beer with me, and so far I would say I succeed" he took a gulp "But that being said, I
heard that you had a wonderful skill, a skill that is not given to anyone"
"Oh?"Avril was intrigued, arching her brow and wondering what he was talking about."
"The one of having information, to be able to obtain information. We assistant or yeoman have the
wonderful job of knowing things"
"That is very true," commented the counselling yeoperson.
"Actually I was looking at sharing some of them, if your all about that, if not taking a beer with you will
be more then enough" he gave her a smile.
"Sounds very enticing," she agreed, "But what's in it for me? On a clinical level, I could lose my job."
"So could I but I'm not looking about patient info"
"So you don't want to know about patients, you want to know about the counsellor," Avril smirked,
"That right?"
"Correct" taking another sip of beer.
"Well, we'll have to do a trade, you give me something to consider, I'll let you know what I have to
give. It's really quite simple," Avril said cracking her knuckles. "What do you want to know?"
"Well , trading Doctor for Doctor...seem fair to me, something about her life"
"You want me to give you information about Dharma's private life, compromise her safety and
security," she shook her, before taking another mouthful of beer. "I can do that, but why should I. You
could have an agenda."
"So could you, will have to play the trust thing if we're to do anything here"
"Hang on, wait a minute," sighed Avril. "Do you have some kind of freaky designs on her, like secretly
fancy her and want to know about any possible competion?" she was more than just intrigued.
"No, she's not my type, I prefer your type of ladies, beautiful, intelligent and deadly."He smile "Who's
that boston fellow"
"He's a rock star," She replied, all very dreamy suddenly.
"And how is that rock star?"
"Oh, he's lovely," swooned Avril. "Gorgeous voice, very easy on the eye. Oh, I wish I was single," she
sighed.
"Dharma in this?" he was making mental notes.
"She's a floozy," stated Avril. "Never mind who she is sleeping with, better to ask who she hasn't
copped off with. Much quicker."
"Interesting comment, but still how serious is she with that archangel and if not who is she going for?"
"You think she's with Archangel?" Avril realised that great mind thing alike, that fools rarely differed.
"Well if I said that a certain doctor might have feeling for her. He didn't realise it yet but I could push
him that way. I wouldn't want him to get kill , understand his the one signing my pay"
"Push him," Avril said confidently. Thinking of woman kind across the universe. "Get him to make all
the romantic overblown gestures that he can," she added gulping down the beer. "Make a play, as
quick and as fast as he can."
"What for?" this was going to be very interesting.
"We'll know then, whether she's really with Boston," replied Avril. "If she is, there will be trouble. A
duel for what little honour she has, if not, the doctor gets lucky."
"I don't think it's that easy, espacially with the Doctor and the counsellor"
"All I know, is this," she swirled the beer glass to soften the malt. "There is a strong possibility that she
and Boston are an item. In fact, say yes. They are. what is the doc gonna do about it, hmm?" Avril was
now stirring. Trying to cause a ruckus.
"The doctor will do nothing, he at least respect her too much for that , but if it safe then he might try
something. I need to know, I need the facts straight I will not sen him to the lions, espacially if their the
counsellor type."
"All right, you twisted my arm," sighed Avril. "Arihana Dharma is involved with Boston Zaire," she
couldn't have been less happier about it. "Get the Doc to make a mess of it," her lips twisted into a wry
smirk. "He must have it bad, really bad."
"What for?"
"Thank you for the beer, I have to go," Avril emptied her glass quickly. "Best of luck."
"Thanks" he didn't have the answer completly but then again something was wrong enough for her to
tell him that. Was she plotting against Dharma, Boston or worse him. He needed time to figure this one
off but again they didn't have time.
=^= BoB - Dark corridor =^=
The doctor was walking toward his quarter, normally he would had stop by his regular place to have
some company but this time around he decided to get straight to his place. the darkness had played
prank twice on him and he had no intention to stay around for a third. To be honest he was hoping to
find someone to walk along with him. He had ask for his company to join him there but didn't had a fair
answer so he was also hoping it would be female and had a great bum.
There was a sound at the turn of the corridor, and a small sound of curiosity. The sound manifested
itself in a female shape - a strongly-built redhead with a sharp, enquiring face.
"OH, hi there how are you"
"Hello.." there was a small pause, and despite the confident stance there was a look of haunted
incoherence in her eyes. "Who are you?"
"I'm the doctor of this station, well not the only one but one of them" caught by surprise in the
seriousness of the question.
"Oh, 'ello then, Doctor. I'm Donna." she gave herself a little shake, like a bird ruffling it's feathers. "So
what's a nice bloke like you doin' wandering down a dark corridor like this, eh?"
"Trying to get home without feeling too overwhelmed by the darkness.."
"Yeah, well, gets to us all, don't it? The dark. Me, I don't even know quite why I'm 'ere. I keep
reckoning this is some sort of a dream. Maybe it is.." she shrugged.
"Dream, means good stuff, feel more like nightmare for me. Creepy and hard to keep calm"
"The dark... you been in the dark much?" there was a worried note in her voice. "I dunno about you,
but I've been 'earing some weird stuff about the dark. Or remembering it. Not sure, really.." she trailed
off, a distant look in her eyes.
"Because of my profession been out more then I wanted, but felt presence sometimes." he stop now
worried, she didn't seem well "Remembering, strange, need some company? I wouldn't mine being
with someone about now, my quarters is close and will be able to get some light going."
Donna pulled her chin in and made to step back, "I hope you don't think I'm *that* sort of girl,
sunshine. Because I'm not into any hanky-panky, I'll 'ave you know."
"Alright, promise to be nothing less then a gentleman," he look slowly behind him, it felt something
was following him , the darkness maybe "Let's walk, should we?"
"Can do," Donna gave him a slightly suspicious look, but started walking anyway. "Let's not hang about,
eh?"
"You were saying about a dream, remembering thing and hearing thing?" he gave her a warm smile
trying to help her verbalise her thoughts.
"Yeah, well, that's the thing..." she looked aggressively uncertain. "Maybe it's something I read once.
Or a story I heard.. or a show I saw. Don't know really. Damn. I wish I could remember." She broke off
abruptly. "So tell me Doctor, have you ever been afraid of the dark? Before this, I mean?"
"I'm usually comfortable in the dark, except for recent days and when I was younger. I used to ask for a
light to be open so I could see everywhere in my room." He felt awkward speaking about his childhood.
"Doesn't every child feel afraid of the dark?" Donna muttered.
"I guess so" he answered simply.
"But why?" she seemed to be searching for unfathomable answers. "I mean, why are we afraid of the
dark? If there's something in the dark we can't see, then it stands to reason that *it* can't see us,
doesn't it?"
"I think you have to go deeper, the way we are raise, dark means evil, black is the monsters, dark is
everything bad. Everything is related to the light and darkness. society pushes the family units to pass
that on, so from generation to generation it continues"
"Ooo-er, sounds a bit high-faultin'," she smirked. "Where d'you get that from - a book?"
"Sociology, my teacher always put everything in perspective with the good versus evil and the many
shade of grey, it was an interesting class which I sleep most in" he gave a short laugh.
"Cor Blimey, you wouldn't catch me doing stuff like that," Donna shrugged. "I just do casual work, me.
I'm good at admin, plenty of the shops need a good assistant. But I won't be here long."
"No, nobody tends to stay long but always manage to stick to this station anyway, waiting for
something?"
"Waiting for a ride. At least, I think I am. Off the station - I think this is where we were supposed to
meet up, at least. There's this man.." she trailed off and raised her eyebrows in ironic amusement,
"Well, isn't there always? So come on Doctor with your sociology know-how.. all the darkness..
suppose there's something to it? I mean, doesn't every species feel afraid of the dark? Suppose there's
a real reason for it?"
"Actually they're some species raise in the dark and they don't mind it but that another story. But what
reason would it be?"
"Dunno. But it'd make sense if we afraid for a reason, a real reason, wouldn't it?"
"Reasons must be logic" he smile "I think my Vulcan friend is getting to me, what could be the cause?"
"Hey is it just me or is it getting darker?"
"I had that feeling a few minutes ago before we started to walk" he look around "this is insane, my
quarter is not to far" pointing in the dark "we should be there very soon, do you jog?"
"Only when they call last orders at the bar," Donna gave a nervous cackle. "But right now, I'm open to
suggestions."
"I wouldn't mind making a run for it, this darkness is not natural" his voice could transmitted concern.
Donna looked around her, flashing her light into all the nooks and crannies. "I don't wanna worry you,
Doctor, but the darkness is definitely getting darker. Running sounds a good option right now.."
"Alright, give me your hand so we don't get separate" he put it forward and took a deep breath.
"Let's get the hell out of here," Donna grasped his hand and started speeding along.
"Good" as he gave started to lead the way.
"How much further?" she then yelped as she ran into a wall, "Oh fer cryin' out loud. Have we taken a
wrong turning?"
"We should had been there by now!"
She flashed her torch around and then stopped, very very still, looking at Francois with horror on her
face.
He look at her, trying to remain calm "What wrong?"
"I don't want to worry you, Doctor.. but I think you've got two shadows..."
"Two shadows, are you sure?" trying to turn around slowly.
Barely moving, the thin slivers of lights from the shadows of the torches showed she was right.. there
were two separate shadows emanating from Francois. "That's got to be a trick of the light, right?
Yeah?" Donna's voice rose several octaves.
"I'm not a magician or a spirit talker, whatever is there is not of my doing" He felt like the second
shadow was looking deeper within himself, like it was pure darkness. Emotion were high and he had
problem discerning it since for a long while he could sense the beast in him fighting to surface.
Pushing the beam of her torch onto full, she shone it onto the shadows. One stayed exactly where a
shadow should be. The other -- dispersed. melted away out of the light. "Can you hear a sort of buzzing
noise?" she asked.
"Yes, this isn't good" he look around "I know where we are, let go"
"Time to run again.."" she reached for his hand. "Your quarters, NOW!"
He ran as fast as he could , so fast he didn't quite stop in time before hitting his quarter door face on.
"FECK!" as he pull back "Open you piece of shit, open up!!!" as he felt the darkness rushing for him and
the sound getting louder.
"Hurry up hurry up hurry uuuuuuuuup," Donna urged him, jigging up and down with anxiety.
"I'm doing what I can "COME ON, COME ON OPEN!" as the door started to open he jump in and pull as
hard as he could on her arm. As he landed on his back with her on top of him "Computer look door and
lock, NOW!! CLOSE, LOCK , NOW!!
"Phew," Donna leaned against the closed door. "That, sunshine, was a bit hair-raisin', yeah?" she
fanned herself energetically.
"You bet" he smile
"Now what?" she peered around, trying to see what she could in the dim light. "Don't mind me, I get
right nosey sometimes.." she started poking around.
"Should we call security?"
Just then, a sharp knocking on the door startled them both. There was a steady THUMP-THUMPTHUMP followed by a voice, "Donna? You in there? Donna?"
"Oh, Gawd, it's my lift," Donna exclaimed. "You can open the door, doc, he's safe enough."
"Sure?" he open the door.
In the doorway stood a dapper young man with sharp eyes and a slightly manic grin, "Oh, 'ello. Sorry to
interrupt.." he flashed a smile at Francois. "But I've got to get moving, and this young lady here needs a
lift."
"Off again?" Donna rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.
"Ah, you know me. Never a dull moment," he gave a cheerful wink. "See, The Mandragora Helix has
made another appearance - so I'm told, in the Third Zone of the Vel Consadine sector. Marvellous sight
- if it behaves itself," he was already starting to move off.
Donna turned back to Francois, "A traveller's life, yeah? Never stay in one place too long."
"A real gypsy saying" he smile.
"Oh, hang on a minute," she caught her impatient travelling companion by the sleeve. "They've got a
problem on this station - the darkness - it's getting darker.. any ideas? You've been around a bit. You
might know?"
For a moment, a worried look flitted across his face. "Sounds nasty. Be careful. Stay out of the
shadows. Might be something dangerous, might be imagination. But I've heard of things like this - and
it's usually bad. But he, I'm sure it'll all work out alright," he brightened. "I've met your CO, you know.
Last Christmas. I was just passing through. She seems like a smart lady."
"You've been here before?" Donna frowned suspiciously.
"Just passed through, it's that sort of a place," he gave a disarming grin. "Come on now, mustn't keep
the Mandragora Helix waiting."
Donna shook her head and gave Francois an apologetic smile, "He's always like this. Thanks for helping
me out back there."
"Thank you for the security" he wink. As they left he was looking forward at a moment of deep
relaxation with a lot of light.
=^= SB BoB - Doctor Quarters =^=
He was just starting to relax after his dark crisis when the chime was heard. He
debated opening the door since he was in his spa in total relaxation mode. The
chime was heard again, someone could be in need of assistance or could be a
psycho trying to get in. He got up and decided to get going. As he open the
door, Mike rush into the quarter smelling like beer. His face seem like he
possess the answer of the universe.
"What up mike?"
Mike took a few second to catch his breath "Dark...Darkness is...Darkness is
getting darker" taking his breath
"I know, had a little episode, don't think it's natural anymore"
"Look just had a drink with the counsellor yeomen"
The doctor didn't like where that was going, Mike never did something for
nothing "Good for you, meeting her later"
"No! she has a boyfriend, who do you take me for"
"I don't know, why did you mention it then?" starting to walk away, he knew the answer.
"You like her don't you?"
"I respect her, she a great friend" he went back into the spa "Don't go there Mike"
"Well I spoke with April or Avril or whatever, her yeomen and she said now the time to make the move
buddy"
"Their no move to be made, she is in a relationship and she's a friend not the one"
"Look at me..LOOK AT ME"
The doctor turn and look at his assistant "What"
"Buddy, I don't trust her that much, she gave me the information quickly and without too much
question but if she's even half right you need to do this. If she pushes you away and hate you or
whatever then at least you'll know for sure. You move away because your afraid to get hurt like you did
with the captain. The captain was a first, you know the walkthrough, a fling it move, he you admitted
to that."
"Yes, I do understand that, and I was not in mad love with my superior but she could be just a fling, I
need time."
"Like a year, feck, you did the diner almost a year ago and still you have feelings for her? Is it that a
fling?"
"She might be happy with Boston and Suraj, can't do that to him either"
"For once in your shitty life will you think of you!!! You always put everyone first, your a great guy but
shit get evil and get the girl!"
The doctor came out of the spa "I suppose to go to her door kiss her and tell her I love her and wait for
answer?"
"Why not?"
"Your a moron, she's happy!"
"Is she?" said Mike now throwing close at him.
"Yes! She said that I wasn't her type and I believe that, and why do the opposite of you. You don't think
it rigth to cruise someone with a boyfriend but ok for me to say to Dharma I love ehr in her moment of
happyness"
"But she still kiss you to make sure. You know alot of woman that does that as a normal test of
emotion!"
"Know another woman like Dharma?"
"Good point, but either way you go, you do it and then I'll be there, if she says no I will organise such a
party with so many women you'll become blind"
The offer was tempting, a slap for a party..."deal but this better be a hell of a party"
"But if she do anything positive, then you have to pursuit it!"
"Like?" this deal was poison.
"like nice stuff, your stuff...a slap or a feck off you get the party"
"Fine!" he got dress "To get you off my back"
"Good" Mike drop on the couch "I'll wait here"
"No shit, your coming with me, I'm not going alone in this darkness."
"Just ran here, but for the you and her I'll run again" he took a deep breath
"Let go"
"Where is she?"
"I think at her office"
"Aright, long run" said the doctor as the door open. they both sprinted as fast as they could hoping to
avoid wall.
=/\= SB BoB - Reeds' Pageant Stand =/\=
There was a lull in business at Reeds' pageant exhibition stand, and he was busying himself by going
over the figures on his PADD. He was cleaning up with this little enterprise of his. Sure, there would be
a few expenses, but nothing nearly so large as what he made them out to be. Between that and Quide
taking off for the great unknown for a while, the crewman had been put in an excellent mood.
"ooh, what we got 'ere, then?"Counsellor Dharma was on a mooch mission. To wander around
aimlessly and see where she could poke her nose, unwanted or not.
"Oh, hello counselor," Reeds said almost chipperly. "How are you today?"
"I am very well, thank you," she smiled, "And what, pray tell, are you up to? If it be no good, then I'm
more than happy to participate."
He held up one of the two clipboards from the table and waved it about a bit before setting it back
down. "Im just looking forward to the pre-pageant, pageant."
"What what?"Arihana asked, ever so slightly confused.
"Well, it's like this," Reeds began, shifting to sales pitch mode. He didn't know if the counselor was the
type who either would want to show off her body or ogle others who did, but latinum was latinum and
it was worth a shot. "See, everyone who wants to enter the Mr. and Ms. BoB Pageant wants to win,
right? Well, I'm offering the chance for them to be proactive about it and gain crowd support through a
preview of their looks and talents for the people of BoB. There is a nominal charge for taking part in
the show or getting into the audience, of course, but just to cover the necessities of preparing
something like this."
"Yeah, I get it," the counsellor rolled her eyes. She was sixth generation Indian, she knew about the
making a buck business. "To ogle, or be ogled. That the question?"
"That's the gist of the question," Reeds confirmed with a firm nod of his head. "Not to speak out of
turn, counselor, but would you have any interest in the latter? I think you might do fairly well."
"No, I'm not goint to be ogled," tutted Arihana. "My body is best kept to myself. And to the
imagination as well, or so I have been informed. Ogling others," she looked like she was considering it.
"I can deal with that, and there's no danger of being caught with my fingers in the cookie jar.
Ever the salesman, the crewman thought he'd give it one more shot. "Well, you know that you could
ogle the contestants a lot closer from up on stage, and it would still follow under the harmless
umbrella of sizing up the competition."
"No, seriously," Arihana shook her head, "You'd have to pay me to strip. Honest. Miss Birmingham
Swimsuit, I am not."
Reeds briefly considered making the investment. Paying for a higher up on the station to strip in front
of a bay full of people... he could charge each audience member more, plus there would be more of a
draw. He might be able to double his takings! But, then he considered the fact that he hadn't cleared
this gathering with anyone as it was, and such a performance would cause it to lose its innocent
quality.
"Well, that's your choice, of course. But there is always the simple pleasure of watching others strut
out on stage for your enjoyment." Reeds leaned forward slightly and tapped the sign in sheet for the
contestants. "We have quite a few men signed up who could pass the preliminaries for the Mr. Galaxy
competition, easily."
"Oh, really, how did you wangle that," laughed the counsellor. "BoB is hardly the breeding ground for
hot totty. How much is the fiscal damage, then? To ogle."
"It's only five strips of latinum to be part of the audience for this much anticipated event."
Arihana arched her brow, "Yeah?" she was surprised, as she worked out a profit margin.
"Well, for you, as you're a leading citizen of BoB, I would be more than happy to go as low as four strips
and twenty slips. I won't be making any profit on it, but I do need to cover the cost of space rental,
usher wages, and equipment fees."
"Four, and I'll bring an entourage," she offered.
"That would be well enough, group discounts being all the rage in many different types of businesses,
but how many people are we talking? Can you produce the small army it would take to compensate
volume in place of price?
"Darling, I'm the counsellor, think hypnosis of clients, you'd have a guaranteed full house," Arihana
said, wondering if she wanted to stalk front of house.
"Good deal," Reeds said as he made a note on his PADD. "You bring me the list of names and four
strips for each, and we'll get them signed up."
"Question," she posed it, flexing a finger. "Has this festival of perversion been sanctioned by the
powers that be? Inveigling me, is one thing. But Her in Charge, she may have her doubts."
"Well, no," the crewman said with a friendly laugh. "But it is, after all, just a harmless business
endeavor. And I'd be more than happy to give the good captain a front row seat, free of charge, just so
she knows there is nothing at out of the ordinary being perpetrated."
"One girl likes to shop for eye candy as much as the next one," she nodded, "But one that runs the
joint, she's a bit special, my dear."
Reeds looked pensive as he considered the comment. "Are you saying that she might not see her way
clear to letting it proceed without her express consent beforehand?"
"Put it this way, Reeds, get her to say yes," Arihana smiled, "And perhaps we won't have to hear about
Chestnuts roastin' in an open fire in the musical section."
"Point taken," Reeds said, more concerned about hiding his irritation over a possible snag than his
concern over the aforementioned 'chestnuts.'
"Just get the boss lady on charge, my dear," said the Counsellor. "The rest will follow."
"I guess I'll get in touch with her," he said with a sigh, but smiling through it. "There isn't any reason to
close the stand down, though, right? I mean, if she does say no later, I do have everyone's name for a
refund." He tapped the clipboards and managed to say it through, but on the inside, his stomach was
turning somersaults at the thought of parting with the sizable sum of cash he had collected.
"Goood," the counsellor was half convinced, " A full refund, yah?"
"Well of course it would be a full refund. I have no reason to keep anything of it." Sadly, it was true.
There was no way he could get away with claiming any percentage of the money collected as there had
been no cost in processing the entries. He just had to make sure the captain said yes. "I'll be sure to let
you know what she says."
"Quite right," she nodded. "And about the other matter, the one that I set as homework, Crewman.
You and our Whatsisface Quide."
Reeds sighed in a kind of 'I'm resolved to my fate' kind of way. "No, I haven't done the assignment you
gave me. I can't find any similarities between Lieutenant Quide and myself, other than the blatantly
obvious 'We're both assigned to Flight' rubbish. On the bright side, while my judgment was too
impaired to think better of it, I asked him if I might fly separate from him, and he agreed, so I suppose
the issue has been resolved."
"Temporarily," Arihana replied. "Until the next time you pair cross swords and engage in antagonistic
emotive sparrin that leads one to question the sanity of the other and deduce a dunce."
"Well, I don't see why there would be another issue..." Reeds half-heartedly argued, already knowing
he wasn't getting out of further counseling.
"Do the homework, love, and do it properly," she poked the crewman in the shoulder sharply. "I used
to be a class swot, I know that hard work pays dividend. Do it, or condemn yerself to a lifetime of
psychological barbarism," Arihana smiled menacingly. "Lemme know about the Peagent, please."
"Will do," Reeds said as passively as possible. "See you soon, I guess, counselor."
"Book another appointment, reeds," said the counselor, departing to leave. "Come find me, or I shall
come find you....."she let her words hang as she left. She was clearly feeling deluded.
Reeds sat behind his desk and sighed as he watched Dharma walk away. So much for his good mood.
Well, there was only one way to fix that.
Opening his cash box, the crewman looked inside and admired all of the wonderful, gold-pressed
latinum. All he had to do was convince the captain that the pre-pageant was good for morale in these
literal 'dark times' and all of this, and more, would be his to keep.
Something either caught his ear or eye beyond the light of his lamps and Reeds looked up. There was
nothing out there but the darkness, but what an oppressive darkness it was. It seemed a lot less of a
simple inconvienience now that Dharma and all of the other customers were gone. It was so odd for
him to be uneasy about a lack of light, too, since it was when people couldn't see clearly that he did
some of his best work.
"Thats enough business for now," he said, possibly for the first time in his life, as he collected his
flashlight, cashbox, PADD, and sign in sheets. He couldn't possibly leave the area fast enough, and
nearly tripped over a couple of things lying on the floor that made a nasty crunch under his boots. It
was safe to say that Reeds wasn't much on law and order, but littering like that was just pointless...
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
Mulder was doing a combination of Jaffa Cake nibbling and throwing balled-up paper for Sherlock to
chase around the room. The available routes for a good run were getting less and less, and the little
dog needed some ways of keeping fit, after all.
Reeds approached the door warily. He wasn't so much wary of the encounter with the captain, but of
the darkness around him. He had taken to holding a flashlight, and wearing a headband and belt of
strong LED lights. It made him feel a little better, but not much.
Casting a last glance back to the corridor, he rang the door chime.
"Come along in," Mulder swung her legs down off the desk and slid the packet of Jaffa Cakes into her
drawer in one smooth, well-practiced move.
Entering, the crewman breathed a sigh of relief. It was much lighter in here by comparison, and it
made him feel much at ease. Now he could focus on the task at hand, the task that was always at hand
- making money.
"Hello, Captain. I need to get your consent for a project of mine, if you have a moment."
"Project?" she asked warily. "I'll hear you out. And if I don't like what I hear I'll throw you out," she
finished with cheerful flippancy. "Sit yourself down, tell me what you're planning."
"Well, you've obviously heard of the Mr. and Ms. BoB Pageant. It's an excellent idea, and would
certainly help to take everyone's mind off of the current darkness situation, but something of that size
will obviously take a while to organize for whoever is heading that up. As such, I propose a pre-pageant
showing of those contestants who might want to increase their odds in the main event by gaining a fan
base and crowd support early on. Plus, it would be much simpler and quicker to organize than the big
show, and I don't know if you noticed, but it's really creepy out there," he jerked his thumb at her
door. "A distraction might do wonders for morale."
"Pageant?" Mulder wondered if she had, indeed, heard of it. Ah yes.. there might have been something
from Baxter on that. Drat this darkness, all her administration was shot to hell. "A pre-pageant event?"
She tapped the table, "And you would be prepared to do all the organization?"
"Oh, of course," Reeds assured her. "I'd be happy to do it."
"Bearing in mind that Lieutenant Quide will be off on a marines training exercise, you will need to keep
all the flight department and flight control administration up to date?"
"Obviously, that's my top priority. "Reeds had considered that he would be the entirety of the Flight
Deck while Quide was away, and had considered excusing himself for that based on his not being on
full active duty status due to his injury, but decided - he thought wisely - against it. Fortunately, there
wasn't a whole lot going on that concerned Flight.
"So all the organization you do will have to be on your own time?" Mulder looked closely at him. "I'm
all for Morale, but can't allow the duty side of things to slide.."
"You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I'll be as diligent as ever." Hopefully she didn't know
exactly how diligent that was.
"And of course there will be no financial backing from central funds, you'll have to finance it yourself?"
Mulder was covering every base.
Reeds was grateful for that. Central fund aid would mean he wouldn't have sole claim to the proceeds,
and that was unthinkable. "I've already got a plan for funding sorted, captain. There is a nominal fee
for participation. Just enough to pay for the event."
"Hm," Mulder nodded. "And I would get a free ticket, of course?"
"Front row, center," Reeds affirmed with a grin. "Plus one for a guest, if you like." Wow, his generosity
surprised even himself.
Mulder wondered briefly if Cade would still be on base. It might be entertaining, to say the least goodness knows they'd had some strange dates in their life.. "So who is actually participating in this
pageant?" now she was curious. "Anyone I know?"
"Oh, I can guarantee you there are some... erm... 'talented' individuals signed up of both sexes. The
only issue I've found is... Well, that's not important."
"Issue?" her ears pricked up, "Best tell me now. What's the hitch?"
"It's just that there are no notable crew members taking part as of yet. Some crewmen here and there,
but no one that is a station-wide celebrity. Think of the feeling of those in the audience if they saw
someone they all knew and respected up there, endorsing their morale boost with their contribution
to the festivities." Plus, think of the draw, was Reeds' unspoken thought.
"I see," Mulder bit back a grin. "And was there anyone in particular you wanted to, ah, persuade to
participate?"
"No, I hadn't had anyone in mind," Reeds said with a shrug. "Well, originally I had thought Lieutenant
Quide, since he'd do anything for a quality bottle, but since that's not an option, and Lieutenant
Commander Dharma has turned it down flat, I'm not sure who else could be persuaded."
Mulder gave a low chuckle, "The thing is, Crewman, most of us who have served on this station for any
length of time try to avoid publicity. Our exploits get reported - with full spread pictures - in that trashy
rag SS&U with alarming frequency. Even when we don't want them to - in fact, especially when we
don't want them to. That time that Commander Dharma got arrested for mud-wrestling with a female
security offer.. well, I'm sure you can imagine what a field-day they had with *that*.."
Reeds was quite surprised to hear that bit of old news. Dharma was one of the last people he'd expect
to be caught in such an act. Of course, now he had to make it a point to acquire any and all existing
footage of that event, should any exist, for sale to any new arrivals on the station. Maybe some of the
newer marines would be interested...
"And we've been on inter-galactic news feeds when we trashed the administration block at Starfleet
Headquarters in San Francisco, and shot that Commodore. And goodness knows how they got hold of
the live transmission of me fighting that duel to the death on Argellius dressed in those ridiculously
tight-fitting leathers..."
"I had no idea," Reeds boggled. How could he not have known any of this had taken place? He thought
he was in the loop. It was also a shame that the captain was a lock to not enter - think of the
attendance over something like that. Well, at least there should be clips of that duel left around
somewhere if it was reported on the news. There was always a market for that sort of thing.
"So I think you can understand, Crewman, just why some of us prefer to keep a low profile whilst we're
able to."
"Yes, the reasoning is quite clear," the crewman said with a nod. "It's a shame though. It's really such a
harmless little show, and it could do so much for the spirits of the residents to see a big name or two. If
only those unscrupulous reporters had left well enough alone." Really, he couldn't blame them. He
would have done the same for a buck.
"The price of fame.." Mulder smirked.
"I suppose I'll just get on with the organization then, but please do let me know if you hear of anyone
willing to take part. Either way, though, it should be an enjoyable show."
"I wish you good luck with it, Crewman - and if it does something to keep spirits up, then it's all good."
"Thank you, captain," Reeds said before excusing himself. He hesitated at the door momentarily before
stepping quickly through, flashlight held forth like a warding talisman and making his way to the
nearest turbolift at a quick jog.
Mulder chuckled quietly to herself as he left. It was a good job she'd only told him the things that were
public knowledge. The tale about the Admiral and the llama was definitely not to be bandied abroad...
=^= SB BoB - Capt. Mulder's office =^=
Boston Zaire strolled into Mulder's reception area followed by a single bodyguard with light.
"Hello," he said. "I'm Boston Zaire. I made an appointment to see the captain."
Mulder couldn't even see the Padd that Petty Officer Tyner had no doubt left for her with details of
people who wanted to see her about something, but the name was familiar - wasn't this the guy that
Baxter had mentioned, something about holding a concert? "You're a singer who was thinking of a
morale event?" she guessed.
"Yes, that's right," he said smiling. "It would be a charity event - concert ticket costs going to the local
needy."
Looking towards the bodyguard with the light Mulder asked, "And you must be another member of the
band?" She tried to be polite, "What instrument do you play?"
The Oriental woman looked at the captain in disbelief. "I'm completely unmusical, Captain," she said in
an elegant voice. "I'm a bodyguard."
"A bodyguard?" she gave Boston a faintly scornful look. What sort of Prima Donna brought a
bodyguard along to discuss a concert with the Commanding Officer? "Are you so bad at your
profession that you fear assassination from the Music Appreciation Society? If so, I have to question
the sanity of holding a concert.."
Boston actually laughed and had a hard time getting back to serious business. "Oh, that society gave up
on my years ago," he said. "The bodyguard is carrying my light because I was using flares and they
thought I'd burn down the base. I don't want to appear to brag, Captain," he continued, "but I have a
bodyguard because I AM popular. Young girls keep throwing themselves and things at me. I sing under
the name Archangel. I assume since this is out in the wilderness and since you're obviously a mature
woman, that you've never heard of me."
"Mature enough not to seek a profession that relies on the affection of hormonal teenagers," Mulder
muttered, distinctly peeved at the implied slur on the station. Out in the wilderness, indeed. Of course,
it *was* out in the wilderness. But while it was okay for *her* to say that, she wasn't pleased to hear
outsiders have a go. It was a pride thing. "Heard of you?" she said with light sarcasm. "I come from a
joint cultural heritage that has at least seven hundred years each of musical history. Only the very best
and most talented will stick in my memory. So no, I haven't heard of you. What sort of music do you
specialise in?"
"I do rock music," he said. "My band is coming to the base to practice and I thought it would be a waste
not to hold a concert while we're all here."
"I've had a mention of it by Commander Mattingly," Mulder waved a hand dismissively. "I said it was
okay. You'll have to sort out all the logistics yourself or get volunteers though, as I can't re-assign
anyone as a matter of duty. But if any of the officers are willing, then go for it."
"Commander Dharma is helping me with the organization," he added, name dropping shamelessly.
That was the other thing at the back of Mulder's mind. Hadn't someone - was it Francois - mentioned
that Dharma was involved with a rock musician? She hadn't paid it a great deal of attention at the
time.. but this must be the guy. What very odd taste that woman had in partners. "I'm sure she'll do a
very thorough job.." Mulder murmured.
"Commander Mattingly has found a cargo hold for the concert so we'll be well out of ear-shot for
older, sensitive ears," Boston said.
Mulder gave him a narrow-eyed look, his arrogance prompting her to go full-blown Jaz'Aarian pedantic
and contrary. "As a comparison, that doesn't work. The two are not mutually exclusive. For instance, a
young ten year old Ferengi child will have far more sensitive ears than an older eighty year old Human.
And similarly, a Gorn of eighty would still have young ears compared to a human of the same age. So
perhaps you could be more specific about the sort of people you believe will want to avoid your
music?"
"You know, the people who like elevator music," he added.
"Really? What about the people who prefer classical music? Or the people that prefer Jazz? Or Indie?
Or County and Western?" Mulder's tone was even more frosty now. "I think you mean, the people who
don't like *your* music. I suppose it has probably never occurred to you that they might just have
different tastes? Or maybe you're just not that special.." she couldn't resist adding.
"Would you like me to sing so you know my credentials?" he asked.
"I'd really rather you didn't," came the dry rejoinder. "It'll only set the dog off."
"Suit yourself, Captain," Boston said.
"I've given the event my permission, Mister Zaire, so consider the concert official," Mulder stood up.
"And now, if you'd like to depart, I'm sure there must be a lot for you to do. Teenagers to dodge,
elevators to avoid, that sort of thing."
Boston smiled semi-sweetly. "Thank you, Captain," he said. "If you'd like to attend, I'll have two free
tickets set aside for you, up close."
He smiled again and went out the door. Once it closed, he breathed a sigh of relief. She'd reminded
him of one of those agents who'd questioned him again and again with a nasty tone when he'd only
been trying to help. Well, trying to get revenge really.
Mulder shook her head as the door closed. As far as she was concerned there was only one male
singing voice on the station that could make her smile, and that was the wonderful rich Welsh baritone
of her beloved Cade. By the Ethiks, could that man sing. Just as well he'd chosen a soldier's life, or the
bank accounts of the likes of Boston Zaire would have been so much poorer. Along with their collection
of thrown undergarments. Yes, it was probably just as well all round, she smirked to herself.
=^= SB BoB - Reeds' Pageant Stand =^=
Baxter Mattingly, looking over his shoulder a couple of times at the dark, moved ahead. He had that
look about him that said "security officer looking for lawbreakers" or "who stole my chocolate and left
me with the wrapper."
"What's this then?" Baxter asked.
Looking up from his sign in sheets and past his crowd customers, Reeds couldn't help but pick out the
intimidating-looking Baxter taking notice of his little operation. It was bound to happen eventually, and
despite the fact that he had the captain's go ahead, he wondered if there was any legal matter he had
overlooked regarding the operation of his stand. Well, he'd find out soon enough.
"Hello Commander," Reeds said pleasantly, gesturing for those waiting to sign up to hold on a moment.
"Is this a sign up for a hotel room or what?" Baxter asked pleasantly, but suspiciously.
"This?" The crewman asked, gesturing to his table. "This is just a public service. You know, for the
pageant. Those who want a bit of an edge can get public backing by taking part in a pre-pageant
exhibition."
"A free service no doubt?" Baxter asked.
The question made Reeds laugh in a good-natured ' isn't it obvious?' sort of way. "Well, of course I
have to charge. I have to pay people to set up the area for the showing, plus there is a processing fee,
and some of the contestants need swimming or theme costumes which I am practically giving away.
I'm hardly coming out of this with any profits - just a bit to compensate for for my time." Reeds
thought he said it all rather convicingly, and he hoped that the security chief thought so as well.
"Such as I sign up and then I pay you for that and pay you for costumes and how to walk pretty?"
Baxter asked.
"You have the gist of it, sir," Reeds said with a smile and a nod. "And you'll find that my rates are fairly
competitive with that of a costumier, and much cheaper than a charm school. This is just my way of
giving back to BoB, and to help moral with a pre-pageant, pageant."
"What pageants?" he asked. "As in, where do these people compete?"
"Well, this first 'pageant' won't be a competition," Reeds explained both to Baxter, and those
customers still gathered and waiting to sign up. "It's simply a preparation for the main event. As to
where it will be held, this exhibition will take place on the lower flight deck. The loss of several hybrids
has level a fair amount of open space down there. I have no idea where the actual pageant will be
held. I would think if anyone would know, it would be you."
"Do you have a license?" he asked.
"A license?" Reeds asked, perplexed. "A license for what exactly?"
"To solicit on the corner under a lamppost,"Baxted added.
The image that came to Reeds' mind was something wholly different than his relatively innocent little
side business. He neither wore a leopard print miniskirt, nor did he cast come hither glances at Johns,
or Janes as the case may be.
"Surely there isn't anything wrong with some healthy capitalist practices." the crewman debated.
"I wonder," Baxter said.
"I don't mean to sound insubordinate, Commander, but it really seems like you're trying very hard to
find something wrong with an innocent enterprise," Something clicked in Reeds' head and he grinned
in a friendly and understanding manner, as he remembered Ferengi Rule of Acquisition #137 Everything is negotiable - and started hoping he could pull it off. "Oh, I understand, sir. The pageant
was your brainchild and I'm stampeding all over your intellectual property. Well, obviously you'd be
upset about that! I'd be happy to get you in on what meager profits will be left over after the
expenses."
"Is that a bribe, Mister?" Baxter asked.
Reeds looked almost hurt. "It's hardly a bribe if it's money owed to you, sir. Fair is fair, after all."
Baxter laughed. "I could run you in on that," he said, "but it'd be hard to make it stick and I already
have one wiseguy in the brig. You have your pageants and enjoy yourself. Just make sure you come
through with all you promise for the payment."
Then Baxter raised and eyebrow and said, "There's going to be a rock concert. You could have your
pageant competitors open the show with a walk across the stage. Think about it."
"The rock concert..." Reeds said, looking thoughtful. "Of course. Why didn't I see it before? You've
been a great help, Commander!"
"Just be sure to report your income for tax purposes," Baxter joked.
Reeds tapped his PADD with a smile. "I'll note every slip of latinum, you can count on it."
"While I have you here," the crewman continued hopefully. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in
signing up to be a contestant. I mean, it was your idea after all. Who better to show everyone how it is
done? I could even see my way clear to offering a hefty discount for your wife, if she chose to join the
audience in cheering you on."
"I think I'll pass," Baxter said. "I have one career too many right now."
"Well, if you change your mind, let me know," Reeds said cheerfully as he turned his attention to the
crowd of customers that were getting rather impatient for their money to be taken - Reeds' favorite
kind of customer.
Baxter nodded and wandered off, looking back once or twice at the eager customers. Well, what could
they do? There were no lights. Everyone needed a hobby.
=^= Security office =^=
The door of the security office opened and a young woman stepped in.
"State your business," Baxter said, his face back in the report, or quite possibly, recovering from a near
nap."
She looked at the almost napping Baxter and frowned, "I'm here to collect that raise commander."
Baxter jumped up. "Vega!" he exclaimed, bounding across the room and wrapping his arms around
her, giving her a hug in a most unprofessional manner. "Assistant girlie!"
She chuckled and hugged him back. "Very unprofessional sir. But no one is around."
"Are you back or are you some type of holo-image designed to give me hope in the dark?" he asked.
"Darkness, all I see is light." She smiled.
He stepped back. "Come on in and sit down," he said. "How'd it go on that ship that stole you?"
"Security on a ship is much more different than security here." She said. "Plus, flying around the galaxy
isn't really my style ya know. I like our calmness, or lack thereof rather.
"You've come back to a real beaut," Baxter said. "It seems we're in the dark and not only that," he
added, leaning closer and lowering his voice, "but there's a lot of rat bones in the darker parts of the
base."
"Rat bones? Really, did you forget to send the memo saying that the food is better in the Galley?" She
said. "Seriously, are we sure a cat didn't get loose. Where's snookums?"
"I thought of that," Baxter said, "but that idiot cat seems to be where he usually is, lurking to attack."
"Roger that sir."
"Vega, I hate to ask this since you just got here, but could you go down below and wander a little in the
lower decks and then work your way up a little and see what you think?" he asked. "Take a couple
security goons with you. I don't want anyone alone down there."
"I do goons best.. Maybe we'll find some pets while we are down there." She said, wondering what was
up with everyone and the darkness.
"I don't think it's anyone looking for better food," he said. "I think, well, I don't know what I think, but
people are reporting odd feelings in the dark."
"That's abnormal for our standards." She was starting to get a feeling that things were worse than they
appear.
"Yeah, I know," he said. "See what you feel."
"Thanks again.. I will do my bestest down there."
"And welcome back, Girlie Girl," he said with affection. "Your office is just as you left it. We didn't pick
up a thing."
"I already saw. Time to go off and fight on the mean decks of BoB." She said. She walked out of the
office and headed for hers, making sure to muster the duty security team to her office as well.
Baxter called after her, "I could use a little help with reports. I'll just send some over."
=^= Dharma quarters =^=
Boston cuddled closer to the warmth next to him on the couch. In his dream, he was on an old air bus
traveling from town to town without much money being pursued by dark shadows that resembled
gallatic agents. However, in this nightmare, there was a small town waitress who offered him a warm
bed and chicken noodle soup, but she didn't offer him company in that bed. She ..."
Boston's eyes popped open and he noted a familiar form curled next to him. He smiled.
"Morning," he said. "Shouldn't you be in your own bed? It's a bit more comfortable than this I'm sure."
"Yes," groaned the half asleep cushion, "but the view is better here."
He kissed her cheek. "Want me to make breakfast?"
"If you wish,"Arihana said finally turning around.
"Before we get up," he said, "I need to talk about last night."
There was another grumble, "Can we leave the me, you and the gate post business til later," she
yawned a moment,before trying to figure out how tangled they both were.
"No, not us," he said, "about the darkness. There's something .. I mean, I don't like how it makes me
feel all of a sudden. I don't like that you and Suraj are here alone at night."
He thought for a moment that what he said was really stupid. It was always dark here right now.
"We're all right," Arihana shuffled to sit up.
It had something to do with his former life. He'd lived in the shadows. He knew how it felt. He had to
be alert to danger from unseen sources and all of his alarms were going off after one run to fetch
Chinese.
"I want to spend the night here until the lights are back on," he said. "I don't mean to get in the way. I'll
just come here around bedtime and sleep on the couch. You'll have all your privacy and freedom. I
won't be a pest. I just need to be here."
"You don't have to sleep on the couch, you know that," Arihana rubbed her eyes, and untangled her
leg. "Is this a Tarzan thing?Trying to protect me and the kid. Sweetie, I have a baseball bat, and I know
how to use it," she smiled to kiss his cheek, rather than inflict morning breath.
"Protect you and Suraj?" he asked. "No, I want you two to protect me."
Arihana chuckled, to press her forehead against his.
"Seriously, Commander," he said, "humor me in this will you?"
Oh, commander. That always tore it. "'kay, I will. But what do I get in return, Mister Zaire."
"I'll give you my autograph," he said.
"Autograph?"Arihana blinked, "Is that all?"
He grinned. "I must have something else," he muttered. "I have a stick of gum, a coin from Zamma IV
and a song in my heart. Will any of that do?"
"I don't want anything, Boston," Arihana tutted, patting down the duvet. "I'm not going to make
demands of you, I have no right to do that."
"When a woman says that, you're in trouble," Boston said.
"C'mon, we'd better get up," she turned away to place her feet on the floor, once she had disengaged
her legs. "Go see what we have in the kitchen."
"What's everyone like?" he asked, getting up slowly due to a bad case of couch back.
"Suraj will have cereal, some toast and a strawberry milkshake. I don't like strawberry Milkshake," she
grimaced. "I've had far too many fry ups lately. My cholesterol would send the doc into a tizz. Just tea
and toast for me."
"Tea, toast and Suraj's growing boy breakfast," Boston noted. "I can do that. Say, doesn't Suraj have to
get up soon for school?"
"Am up," A smaller voice chimed, padding into the lounge briefly. "merrrm, gonna brush teeth, aight,
Boston." Suraj chundered off, leaving his pyjamas in his wake.
Boston chucked to himself as he went into the galley to start breakfast.
"He knows the drill, what can I say," shrugged the boy's mother. "I'll do the same, and get dressed,
back in a second. Then we can do brekkie. He's got forty minutes then it's school."
"Are you leaving your pjamas on the floor too?" he asked.
"Why?" Arihana obviously still had to engage her brain as she laboured to raid her closet and find the
uniform befitting her station. Or may be not, this was BoB. It could pass for clean.
"Just curious," he said. "It might delay breakfast if you did." Then he innocently turned to the counter
and began to get breakfast. While the others got ready for the day, they heard a strange whirring
sound, a chorus of bowls and spoons, knives and jam jars being set about and above all of it, Boston's
melodious voice singing "Under the Boardwalk."
When they came back, the table was set as if the queen were coming for breakfast. Linen napkins and
place settings, a bowl of cereal with milk and sugar nearby; a large strawberry milkshake; and a plate
to prepare toast. Another setting held a large cup of tea and the fixings, as well as a plate for toast. The
third setting had a butterscotch milkshake, eggs and bacon with a tomato.
Arihana and Suraj both took a look at the food. Then at one another.
"He's cooks," Arihana told Suraj.
"You can keep him," nodded the boy.
"Toast's up," he said. "Who wants the first two?"
Suraj scampered up to the counter, his mother followed at a more leisurely pace. She smiled to take
the cup, and stir into two sugars. She needed that fix in the mornings.
"Did you sleep well Suraj?" Boston asked.
"Not bad, thank you," Suraj replied, digging into the cereal.
"You don't mind if I stay on the couch for a few nights, do you?" he asked.
"You can stay forever, if I get breakfast," Suraj said, slurping the thick milkshake. "Why, what's with
your place."
"I like the company and I hate the dark," he added.
"Fair 'nough," the boy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"What's school like?" he asked Suraj.
"I like it, learn lots," the response came froom a mouth stuffed with bread.
"I never cared for school," he said. "I always got into trouble. I liked to pull girls' pigtails and paint on
the toilet stall doors. The principal said I was a pistol."
Obviously one could find out more about Boston if one was a small boy with an attractive mother.
Mother and son both gave curious glances.
"More toast?" he asked.
"Am good," the two chorused.
"Well, you're most definitely house trained," commented Arihana, pouring another cup of tea. "That is
a bonus."
Boston smiled. "And you thought I was just a pretty face," he said. "I worked at a restaurant for awhile
and discovered I like cooking."
"Suraj says I can keep you," she replied with a wink. "Seems you've landed on your feet. C'mon kiddo,
you got breakfast latin.I'll see you to the walking bus. It'l be here in a minute."
"I have, yep," Suraj jumped from his seat at the counter, "Hold them for me."
"Are you off too then?" he asked.
"I've not got anyone til later," Arihana glanced at her watch.
"Am going," Suraj scittered towards the door.
"By kiddo," waved his mother.
"Hurry home," Boston called. "Have a good learning day."
Then he turned his attention to Arihana. "Well, I'll clean up here and then what would you like to do?"
There was a look of consideration from Arihana. "I really don't have a clue, but I do have a pile of
reports to write."
"We could watch the penguins again," he suggested. "I haven't seen it."
"Nah not today," replied Arihana. She had had enough of the fishy blighters/
"I like your kid," Boston said. "I'm glad I got approved."
"Same here," she smiled, "Or I'd worry."
"Does he approve everyone?" he asked. "He seems like an easy going kid, so I suspect he likes all your
friends, and I do mean friends - male, female."
"He's a good kid," Arihana shrugged. "He like people who get to know him."
"I talked to the captain and she agreed to the concert," Boston said.
"Oh, yes, what happened?" Arihana was worried and intrigued.
"I don't think she liked me," he added. "Are you two close friends?"
"Depends how much work I don't do," she replied.
"I'll try harder next time," he smiled. "I think I insulted her with a comment about older people and
elevator music."
"You've got your show, keep on task," Arihana sighed. "I had better go, probably got prep to do. And if,
you start effecting ability to do my job." She shook her head gravely. "It's curtains for the pair of us. I'm
gonna have to leg it."
Boston looked at her and smiled. "Wait until my job kicks in," he said. "it's an overpowering monster. I
think we can get through the 'our work' stage. You'd better go. You have a day job."
"Sorry, hun," She smiled to kiss his cheek and depart for the door. "I'll see you later though."
Boston watched her leave and then cleaned up the kitchen. He was glad he'd worked in that kitchen as
terrible as it had been. He'd hated it. Here though, he rather liked the cooking and the cleaning up. He
was doing something for people he cared about. That did it. He cared about them. "Gotta get over
THAT," Boston said to himself. "You heard her. She'll dump you like a hot potato if things don't work
out and then where will you be? And that's without even knowing who I am."
He shrugged. Left some candy on the table for Suraj when he got home and then headed off into the
dark to see to the concert. He wanted everything ready when the band got there.
As he stepped out and went on down the corridor, he didn't have that odd feeling he'd gotten earlier.
That didn't mean he imagined it, he told himself. It just meant it wasn't here right now. Then where
was it?
He walked faster.
'A Day in the Life'
=/\= USS Scramasax - Bridge =/\=
It was yet another uneventful day for the crew of the Scramasax. The ship strolled through space at a
leisurely warp 2, and once again the captain could be found lounging in his chair. Of course, there was
something odd about the bridge crew - different than the usual oddness that surrounded them. All of
them had their gazes fixed on the view screen, their heads cocked in the exact same angle - slightly to
the left. Their eyes varied from casual to narrowed and focused, but their expressions read the same.
They seemed to say...
"Odd," Commander Illa commented, taking the extra effort to lean forward in her chair.
"Odd," McCaw echoed from his copilot's station.
A quiet humm was issued from the captain as he assessed the sight.
"Perhaps it is someone trying to trick us," S'kar offered with a growl.
There was nothing on the screen except for the stars around them, but the strange part was that, while
it was certainly the foreward view, the stars were travelling sideways, at a complete right angle to their
course.
"The rudder be damaged, sure enough," Scurve said sagely.
The gazes of the bridge crew shifted immediately to lock onto the helmsman. Only, now instead of
looking as though they were seeing something odd, their expressions all changed to something
completely different, but consistent to each other. Now they said something along the lines of...
"That is quite possibly the stupidest thing anyone has said all morning," Bjorn said, reaching for his
inter-ship intercom button. "Say it again. The crew could use a laugh."
"Well, cap'n, I don't hear ye spoutin' out any suggestions," Scurve grumbled.
"Oh, you want a suggestion," Bjorn said, as though he were surprised to hear it. "How about this then.
Our course is now 270?"
"Aye," Scurve confirmed, looking at his monitors.
"Make it 180 and we'll go the rest of the way sideways. It'll sort itself out eventually."
"It be takin' a cap'n of your mettle to think up a solution that that," Scurve said, his voice dripping
sarcasm all over and staining the nice clean carpeting of the bridge. Be that as it may, he executed the
orders and the stars began moving correctly, straight toward the ship.
Looking rather pleased with himself over the non-solution, Bjorn picked up a PADD with a big "To Do"
written on top. "Right, then. Now that that's taken care of..." He pressed a button on his spiffy
captain's chair console. "Bridge to Doctor Havatcha. Is our guest dead yet?"
There was a quick reply, which was almost lost in the background noise of goats and chickens. ^No,
mon. De bad juju be gone and de good juju be poured in. He be up and jammin' in no time.^
"Fine, fine," Bjorn said with a sigh, raising his hand to his face and covering his eyes. "But listen. Last
week when we met up with that merchant ship and you said you were going to trade for medical
supplies, what did you get exactly?"
^Not much. Some new hyposprayers, and a supply of Riglian Flu Vaccine.^
"And...?" Bjorn asked irritably.
There was a brief pause, followed by a sigh over the comm. ^All right, mon. Five goats, ten chickens,
and a crate o leeches. But if you be wantin' the job done right, I be needin' the tools!^
"Expect a talk about this," Bjorn said before closing the comm. He made it a point to write the severe
talking to of Doctor Havatcha into his To Do PADD.
"If I may now..." a voice came from behind his chair.
Spinning around, Bjorn was startled to see the ship's counselor, a young black woman with braided
hair down to her waist, wearing an earthy green dress, a necklace made of flowers, and flip flops.
"Oh, Counselor Sunshine," he said, supressing his laugh as he did every time he saw, heard, or spoke
her name. "When did you get here?"
"Twenty minutes ago," she answered with a smile. "Remember, captain? You told me to hold on while
you attended to matters that were 'more important than that touchy-feely crap.' Matters that, if I
remember correctly, included tonight's menu and the ship-wide Spades championship schedule."
"I stand by my priorities," the captain said. "Especially since the pair favored to win are part of my
bridge staff.
Commander Illa gave a wry smile, and S'kar laughed triumphantly. Scurve and McCaw, however,
looked rather miffed.
"Yer time will come," Scurve muttered. "We been practicin' for it for weeks."
"Weeks..." McCaw echoed, rolling his eyes and sounding uncertain.
"Right, months," Scurve corrected.
"Well, your priorities are valid as well," Counselor Sunshine said in her usual sing-song tone. "But this
concerned your bridge staff as well."
"Ah, right, the communications officer." Bjorn said as though he just remembered and cast a glance
over to the comm station which was currently being manned by some shapely young lieutenant - a vast
improvement over the regular sight at that station. "How is the therapy going, then?" He didn't sound
completely interested.
"Well, I think we're making progress," Sunshine said optimistically, unconcerned by the captain's lack
of attention. "I obviously can't go into the details of our sessions, but I feel it would help if he had some
supportive figures - peers and colleages that could help him work through his negative emotions.
Individuals whose colorful auras could shine a rainbow on his soul."
"Friends," Illa said, effectively summarizing for the captain.
"Right, right," Bjorn said, to his first officer, then redirected toward the counselor. "So what are you
telling me for? Give him some lessons on making friends."
"I've tried, captain," Sunshine said with a sad smile. "But his dark aura seems to disallow any real social
interaction. He needs to find his rainbow first, before he is able to share it, and himself, with others."
Bjorn looked lost, and glanced around at his officers, all who simply shrugged. Meanwhile, McCaw
leaned over and tapped Scurve on the shoulder, gaining his attention before miming the act of
something falling into his outstretched arms, then two fingers held up on each hand.
"Catch two..." Scurve started, confused, before a look of clarity came to his features. "Ah! Catch twenty
two."
"Catch twenty two!" McCaw echoed, indicating Scurve had got it correct with a finger to his nose.
"A shame there be no cherades champeenship," Scurve sighed with a shake of his head.
"A shame," McCaw agreed, crestfallen.
Having watched the exchange with far more interest than he had given the counselor, Bjorn
begrudgingly turned back to Sunshine. "And the solution is?"
"Well, you all could act the part until..." she began.
"That kid be givin' me the creeps," Scurve argued, to which McCaw simply nodded firmly in agreement.
"Goosebumps," Illa said with a slight motion of her body that might have been half of a shiver.
"Even I find his fascination with death... unsettling," S'kar muttered.
"We're talking about the inner well-being of another living soul!" Sunshine protested. "Besides, the
dark cloud over his head would dissolve under the sunlight of friendship and love."
"She's right," Bjorn said resolutely - a statement that caused every head on the bridge to turn. "From
now on, I want to see everyone acting chummy to... What's his name anyway?"
"Oh, I had his name removed from his file," Sunshine stated proudly. "He indicated that he wasn't
pleased with the name that was forced on him by his birth parents. I fully endorse his quest for self
exploration and identification."
"John Doe," Illa clarified.
Bjorn picked up as if there hadn't been a break at all. "... Lieutenant Doe. I want smiles when he comes
on the bridge. Maybe a little pleasant banter to start the shift, and at least one request from each of
you to eat with him in the mess."
An unintelligible clamor of complaints arose from all over the bridge, during which Sunshine made a
cheery exit, leaving the captain to deal with the mess. After a few noisy seconds, they realized he was
tuning them out and slowly quieted down, settling instead for nasty stares.
Leaning over in her chair Illa mumbled to the captain, her expression seeming to indicate she already
knew the answer to the question she was about to ask. "Self exempt?"
"Of course," Bjorn said evenly. "The captain isn't afforded the luxury of playing favorites. I can't get
chummy with any of my crew. I don't make the rules."
"No, ye just usin' them to ye advantage." Scurve grumbled.
"And there is our first volunteer for Best Friend Duty," Bjorn said merrily. "Congratulations, Scurve, the
position is yours."
McCaw grinned in a distinct 'Better you than me' sort of way. "Congratu-"
"Hard to play Spades with ye arms ripped off and shoved down ye throat," Scurve said, evil eye burning
a hole into McCaw's skull.
The word died in McCaw's throat, but his attitude didn't dim. It was a feeling that was shared by the
other members of the bridge crew, who had found a brief reprieve in their newest, unpleasant duty
through Scurve's inability to keep his big yap shut.
=Somewhere near the Perimeter=
As far as missions went, this one made Zerin want to burst into tears from sheer boredom. Everything
about it was boring--this soporific biosphere, the astoundingly dull Brothers of Po, and the fact that
there was no freaking sign of foul play anyqhere.
Couldn't there be just some little flaw somewhere, some glitch in the tightly insulated Brother of Po
Realm of Boredom, so everyone could go home?
Couldn't Brother Hoix at least shut up for a minute?
"...I have developed a new hobby since watching the broadcast documentary of 'The Origin of
Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.'" Hoix was really proud of this new hobby. "I
have begun collecting old anatomical drawings of different species' brains. Since I developed this
hobby, 'bicameral' has become one of my favorite words."
"Sounds like loads of fun," Zerin replied absently. *Please, Carsin, please contact me with news of the
Caly, for some sort of break in the monotony. Please please please PLEASE...*
=Back on the Caly=
Sandrik tossed the PADD back at Carsin. "That letter of recommendation? It's quite fake, Evar."
"Oh, please," Carsin replied. "How could any Starfleet captain, unaware of the Ops Queen's nature, not
want to hire her after receiving such a glowing notice?"
"Where are you sending this?"
"Nowhere. I have a friend's crewmate's friend who's assistant to the Ops Queen's admiral aunt. The
friend will start feeding information to her own friends on other ships about the Ops Queen. And even
whispering in the aunt's ear about Fell's performance on missions--"
"You mean the fact that things blow up whenever she is around?" Sandrik said. "I still think she had
something to do with the shuttle that exploded when the 8472's boarded."
"Nobody needs to know about that," Carsin chortled. "They just need to know she's too good for the
Caly. Right?"
"If you say so, Evar..."
=The perimeter again...=
"Now the kidney is quite fascinating. After I finished studying the brain drawings, I *had* to explore
the kidney."
"Of course you did," Zerin said. At some point, they'd get to the patella.
"You realize, Commander Fell, that in the absence of actual living creatures, we have to study diagrams
and holographic images."
"So you've been studying diagrams and holographic images of targ kidneys."
"Ex-ACT-ly!"
Zerin stopped when she discovered what looked to be loose soil and a bush that had been turned
upside down. "Brother Hoix?" She pointed at the bush.
"Oh DEAR," Hoix groaned. "My still life's going to be ruined."
"Still life?"
"I've also been painting still lifes of plants," Hoix explained.
"Prettier than kidneys," Zerin mused. "I take it that there was no sign of disturbance here before?"
"Not when I came to paint last week," Hoix admitted.
"You said the Brothers had explored the perimeter, yes?"
"They say they did," Hoix replied, looking really uneasy.
"Who's 'they'?"
"The Brothers who explored the perimeter."
"How often do they patrol it?"
"Regularly. I just don't know how regularly. But they do check several feet below the surface, and that's
how they found the animal life. They *said* so. The, er, entire perimeter. I'm sure of it"
"Brother Hoix, I'm going to need names of these Brothers." She gestured at the upturned bush.
"Because...well, bushes don't turn upside down by themselves aronud here, do they?"
"No."
"I really need to talk to these Brothers," she declared. *And I need to get away from this colossal
dullard, too,* she thought.
=/\= Infirmarium - Planetside =/\=
Bree did his best not to grumble and mutter as he gently placed his bag of tools down on the edge of
the now occupied centre table. Despite the thin white sheet placed over the body there was no
disguising the fact that they were in the company of a corpse. The tension in Brother Kosnax's frame as
he began switching on various pieces of equipment made it clear that this was a uncommon, and
deeply unhappy, occurrence.
With the body of the deceased Monk present the room felt a lot more crowded, and a lot stuffier too.
The only other person in the small infirmarium with Bree was Kosnax's but the mood he appeared to
be in was quite oppressive. He definitely wasn't as talkative as he had been before, and whilst still
looking quite serene the manner in which he was moving around the room, and the body, suggested
an almost ritualistic mourning on his part. Kosnax would look at the covered body, turn to check an
item and then turn back to the body before moving off onto his next task with a brief nod. Bree hoped
the whole evening wasn't going to be punctuated with such moves. He didn't really have the patience
for such things.
"So..." Bree cleared his throat loudly to get the attention of the increasingly pre-occupied Kosnax. "Are
you ready to proceed with the autopsy of Brother..." He struggled to think of the name.
"Fisar." Kosnax supplied after a moments pause.
"Fisar, yes. Did you know him well?" The Doctor started to pull some of his instruments out. He started
with the smaller and less offencive looking pieces as he awaited the answer.
Kosnax looked up from the corpse of Fisar and at Bree, "Yes. We all know, knew, each other here. We
may spend our time meditating but we are all reasonably acquainted with each other. No man is an
island as the saying goes."
Bree considered Kosnax. He narrowed his eyes slightly, "You don't have to be here if you find this
difficult. I can manage on my own." Perversely Bree hoped that Kosnax would be overcome with
emotion and take Bree's offer. He didn't really want to have to perform the autopsy with him there.
"I will be okay thank you Doctor."
Trying not to look too disappointed Bree emptied his bag of the last of the instruments. "I take it you
and the other Brothers don't often have to deal with death here."
"Not personally no." Kosnax started to examine the equipment himself. Bree decided if the Brother ran
more than just a critical eye over the equipment he would be well within his rights to slap his hand
away. He didn't make Tol clean it all for nothing. "But it is one of many things we considered as we
meditate. At least I do. How can you consider life and it's purity without considering where death fits
into the picture."
Bree did his best not to groan. He didn't mind the occasional debate, but only so long as the opposing
person realised by the end of it just how wrong they were and just how right Bree was. He felt it might
be a bit difficult to manage here without offending Kosnax. "And what, if you don't mind me asking, is
your take on it?"
There was a tight smile from Kosnax as he moved his attention away from the equipment and started
to remove the sheet. "To borrow another phrase, 'Death be not proud'."
"'Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men" Bree muttered sharply. He flicked open his
tricorder and set it on the side to passively record events.
Kosnax raised an eyebrow, "So you're familiar with John Donne's Holy Sonnets then. Have you come to
the same conclusion then?"
Bree took the bundled sheet and threw it into a corner so he could examine the body. He made a few
silent observations as he clumsily snapped on his gloves. "What conclusion would that be?"
The look Kosnax gave Bree was almost pitying, "That death, while an inconvenience, is just a
transition."
"I'd agree that death was quite an inconvenience for Brother Fisar." replied Bree brusquely, "If we
could keep the metaphysics to a minimum please Brother Kosnax. I do need to concentrate. If you
could busy yourself by taking my notes for me? That would be splendid...and very quiet."
Without another word, and only looking ever so slightly offended, Kosnax picked up a pad of paper and
got ready to jot down Bree's observations.
"Old male, perhaps around the sixty to seventy mark. The body is in a good and well preserved state
with only minor decomposition and rigour due to the hermetic and almost anti-septic environment."
Bree paused for a moment as he considered where to go next. He ran his hands across the corpse and
checked various nodes and glands.
"No obvious external sign of injury or illness other than slight inflammation of the airways and the
insect bite/sting and associated skin irritation." Bree ignored the bite for the moment and instead
prised open Fisar's jaw so he could have a better look at his throat. He flashed a light and grunted to
himself as he thought.
Kosnax spoke up quietly, "He started choking."
"Well that's what happens when your throat closes up due to a violent reaction." snorted Bree, too
involved in the process to be even vaguely sensitive. "In fact so violent that..." He gently tried to move
Fisar's mouth, "...that he broke the lower mandible."
"He broke his own jaw?"
Bree nodded and turned his attention to the Ant bite or the Bee sting. He wasn't quite sure which it
was but judging on it's position he was going for angry Ant or adventurous Bee. There was a huge
swelling just above the ankle that stood out starkly against the rest of the pale pallid flesh. "Yes. Our
muscles are immensely strong. When everything is working properly then our nerves and the feedback
we get from them stop us from contracting them to the point where we hurt ourselves. But we when
seize we don't get that feedback. That's why when they used to do Electro-convulsive Therapy they
administered a muscle relaxant at the same time. Otherwise patients, or victims depending on how
you feel, could break their own backs."
Kosnax looked a little paler now. Even with his medical experience the Brother was finding it hard to
stay objective in the face of such news. Kosnax wasn't much younger than Fisar had been. "And the Ant
bite...the venom or whatever it is caused all this?"
"Well maybe." Bree started to draw a vial of something vaguely pus looking from the bite mark with his
hypospray. "Assuming it wasn't a Bee then there may not have been any chemicals in the bite. Some
Ants don't do that. Considering you live in a huge bubble away from other sources of DNA it could just
have been the exposure to other tissue. People get hay fever or are allergic to Duck down. They're not
toxin's in and of themselves. They just irritate the immune system to the point were it goes a little bit
mad."
"A little bit?"
"A lot then. Although the rashes..." Bree frowned as he looked at some of the marks over Fisar's body.
Most of them were centred around the bite but a few duller ones could be found on his forearms. "The
rashes suggest a very slight reaction before the main one. Maybe so slight that he didn't even notice it.
Very interesting." The Doctor stopped and looked up at Kosnax. "Do you have Coffee here? Or Tea?
Anything that has a reasonable amount of caffeine in?"
"Why?" Kosnax looked a little worried, "Could that cause the rashes?"
Bree shook his head, "No, I'm thirsty. A cup of coffee would be fantastic. I'll have two sugars."
=/\= USS Caledonia - CO's Office =/\=
"I do hope you have some good news for me, Captain," Admiral Chris Bishops sounded at his most
irascible.
"Admiral, we've only just arrived here," Chess gave him a mild look of reproval.
"I know *that*, Captain. I'm wanting to know what you've done *since* you arrived there."
When Bishops was in that sort of mood there was no sweet-talking him. Not that sweet-talking was
Chess's style anyway. Taking a second to gather her thoughts she began, "We have travelled down to
the surface and made contact with all our various opposite numbers. My Chief Medical Officer is
performing an autopsy as we speak."
"Autopsy? They gave you permission for that, hey?"
"Indeed they did. I don't get the impression that they've anything to hide," Chess shrugged lightly.
"They appear to be as puzzled as we are about the whole affair, not to mention highly concerned as
might be expected. So Doctor Conley is investigating the fatality to see if there's anything the forensic
evidence can tell us that will shed light on the matter."
"Very well," Bishops nodded sharply. "I want to see a full copy of the report as soon as you have it."
"Of course," Chess nodded smoothly. "And also, our Ops Chief is currently doing a hands-on
investigation of the various mechanical systems alongside the Brother responsible. Two heads are
better than one so we're trying to look at things with fresh eyes."
"Right," Bishops grimaced, "I suppose that's thorough. Again, full reports as soon as you have them."
Aware of Bishops reason for being so impatient - and the pressures that were doubtless coming down
on him from even higher above on this matter, Chess knew that the gruffness wasn't directed
personally at her. "As soon as Commander Fell reports back in, I'll let you know what, if anything, had
been discovered."
"And the rest of the searches?"
All the same, Chess would be glad when the call was over. "My pilots are doing ariel searches. They've
already done one daytime fly-over to map out the island and do preliminary scans. They're going again
at midnight to see if any of their earlier readings changes under cover of darkness. And yes, I'll let you
know of any changes that they find."
"Good, good.." Bishops fiddled with the Padd in front of him.
Chess debated telling him about the snippet of information in Jinti Lamarr's initial report covering the
daytime flyover of the Brother's Contemplations, and the empty places. But no, she decided, she'd
hold that back for now to give her time to broach the subject with Brother Dulcian - if it was noticed
again at midnight. "I think that's all for now, Admiral."
"Yes.. I suppose so. Right, Captain, I'll leave you and your crew to get on with it."
"Thank you, Admiral," there was the merest hint of dry irony in Chess's voice. "I'll update you soon."
"You certainly will," the irony was matched almost perfectly by Bishops, as he closed the comm.
Chess shook her head at the screen, sighed, and rose to make herself a coffee. It was going to be a long
day and an even longer night.
=/\= SB BoB - Darkened Corridor =/\=
It was Gigi who heard the screams first.
Together with Sodov, she froze as the unearthly cries, panicked and desperate, screeched through the
corridors. "Come on," she called to Sodov, as she drew her phaser and raced towards the sound of the
noise.
Following hard on her heels Crewman Sodov's phaser was drawn likewise as they ran hard, their
flashlights bobbing up and down and casting eerie shadows as they moved.
"There," she pointed to a side corridor as in the cross-lights they could see a huddled figure on the
floor.
Behind the figure, the darkness was a thick homogenous mass, and if they had stopped to notice they
would have realised that their lights didn't penetrate through or beyond it.
But their first priority was the human form that was sobbing and shrieking on the floor.
'Hey, hey there.." Gigi knelt down beside the figure and could se it was female. Sodov stood uneasy
guard over them.
"What happened - did you get a fright? Are you hurt?"
The sobbing was quieter now as if the energy was draining away from her, but a thin hand shot out and
wild, staring eyes bored into Gigi's. The woman was young, out of her mind with fear and shock, and
she could barely speak. "The dark.. I tried to touch it...."
"Tell me.." Gigi insisted softly. "What happened?" She made to shift her position and was suddenly
aware that her knee, where she knelt on the floor, was wet as liquid had seeped into the fabric of her
uniform. Looking down, she gave a gasp as she saw the thick viscous liquid on the floor, black and
sticky in the dull light.
"Is that..blood?" she span the woman round and then nearly fell back as she saw the full extent of the
horror.
Whilst one hand had grasped her in a terrified grip, the other hung uselessly from her shoulder... the
arm complete down to the wrist, but at the end...
Sodov gave a gulp and had to look away sharply.
... at the end of the wrist was a skeleton hand. No flesh, just bloodied skeleton bones, all attached and
in perfect formation, the thick blood from the end of the wrist coursing down her veins and arteries
and pumping out horribly.
"Madre de Dios... " Gigi ripped a shred of cloth from her own uniform, "Sodov, comm sickbay, we need
emergency beam-out or she'll bleed out," she started wrapping the cloth round in a rough improvised
torquinet.
Sodov wasted no time, and the transporter operator was prompt to respond. In no more than a couple
of seconds the trio re-materialised in sickbay in the corner of the ward reserved for such landings.
Large Marge was first to respond as she was passing by and the picture spoke for itself. As the large
nurse shouted for Doctor Bonnenfant, she hastened to give first aid, leaving Gigi to stand, shaken, as
the medical team dived into their task.
=^= BoB - Infirmary =^=
The doctor step out as soon as he heard the screaming and the nurses running around. He had rarely
heard a code blue since only minor injuries came from the darkness. Being a doctor prepare him for
alot of thing but some still left him speechless. A skeleton hand with dripping blood, a white face
patient and Marge looking at him trying to provide first aid at the same time. her face was different, it
said what type of first aid? How can you treat a bone that as no nerve ,blood or tissue, answer was
short, you don't.
"Move" he said "treat the part with flesh and blood, leave the bone alone.
Marge step back and left more room to the doctor as Vivanne came rushing with mike.
"Report!" he yelled, actually what type of accident could do this, it look like it was chew and rip apart.
Like it was eaten.
"Don't know, security transferred her here, from the darkness" said marge.
"Darkness" He knew this darkness couldn't be natural, as soon as he saw he possess two shadow with
that lady. This was probably the start of a bad week.
"We need blood now!" said Mike as he suit up to assist the doctor.
"It going to be ok" he said to her with a smile as he sedated her "everything is fine, we're here" He saw
the patient eye closing slowly.
"Give me a regenerator, blood, 300 cc of adrenaline, 250 cc of bentanol and 150 cc of monosol
dioxide." his hand was trying to get the bleeding under control.
"Doctor he sign are not improving, will lose her" said vivianne.
" Get ready to shock, 200cc of perenaline and check for that flat line." he was trying to get the left of
the nerves, muscle and arteries to shut close but the number of blood, the lack of perception of where
everything started and finish was becoming more then hard.
"Mike get me a hand, clean , I need to see what the hell I'm closing here" as a nurse started to sponge
the doctor forehead, the reality is that he was sweating for fear of being to slow to save her.
"Doctor, will lose her" said Vivianne, trying to give him a head up that he had little time.
"Almost, almost" trying to work as fast as he could. nothing pretty, bare minimum to stop circulation.
"Doctor" she said
"What" he answered upset that he was disturbed
"She's stabilizing, she stabilizing"
"Give her blood now, Mike bring her into surgery, will have to rebuilt."
"Yes doctor"
"Do we have a name?" he ask around.
"Amy Taylor" said Marge.
"Doctor Bonnenfant to Dharma, we need you in the infirmary, women arm was" he pause " I would say
eaten or something, Amy Taylor, she'll wake up in two hours and will be freak out."
"This way doctor" as Mike was trying to help the doctor putting his surgery gear on
"Vivianne I'm busy, cancelled all other appointments" the patient all push a disappointing sound,
knowing that they would stay in line for more then expected.
=/\= SB BoB Infirmary =/\=
^Doctor Bonnenfant to Dharma, we need you in the infirmary, women arm was" he pause " I would say
eaten or something, Amy Taylor, she'll wake up in two hours and will be freak out^
Well, that was something to put the cat amongst the pigeons. Counsellor Dharma had been trying to
liberate a jammy doger from the clutches of a hot tea. Only that had to abandoned, and quickly.
"Yes, you called?" Dharma was rolling her sleeves up as she hot footed it into the infirmary.
Marge stood there "The doctor call, correct. His in surgery room 1"
"Start from the beginning, please," the counsellor had rolled her sleeves up to elbow, thinking this
would get messy.
"Her arm, gone..." She said with a degusting face
"Eaten, as in nibbled, or a chunk taken out of it?" She asked with a frown.
"His in the operating room, go and ask him" pointing at the room.
Grabbing a mask, Arihana followed inthe direction of the operating room. "Doctor, I'm here," she said,
buzzing through on the intercom.
As the doctor was finishing his work he notice a silouhette in the corner. "Hi there Miss Dharma" he
smile " Come and see this"
"Gone?" She stated out loud, taking in the surgery.
"This was completly gone , only bones" pointing at the arm "Major reconstruction, lost too much
blood"
"Dark don't help, does it," Arihana was surveying the damage still.
"True , the light make it hard to see"
"Right, come here," she tweaked the doctor' elbow to look at the output screen that displayed all the
various output data. "Bio chemical degradation, neuro anatomical parallel. She will definitely freak."
"Freak is a word that would just start to describ it, imagine seeing your arm from the inside and live to
tell about it. I wouldn't be freak, I would be gone mad."
"How did this happen, did something try to eat her, fight her?" Arihana removed the mask, to cross her
arms. "Man, animal? I mean, I know you may not know yet," she clarified. "But any guesses?"
"obviously something eat her arm, to what it is, that would be a mystery so far"
"if you have any organic tissue. I mean, if it was an animal, it may leave saliva," shrugged Dharma. "Or
if it was dog, they loose teeth. Could have science have a play or something. Does the wound have a
specific structure, like teeth marks."
"A first glance I can answer any of those question. No saliva seen or teeth marks so far but I didn't push
my investigation further then that."
"It's random," she nodded. "But it's horrific. I mean, we have a llama on the loose. A lovely llama, who
often ruined my dates, but it wouldn't eat people. So there may be something that does, and that
might scare people."
"It scare me counsellor, that someone or something his pwerful enough to do something like that!" he
answered seriously."Should I inform our captain miss 3XO?"
"Tell the captain, yes," Arihana realised the severity. "But keep it contained, ask security to monitor
patrols. I want to know what this is."
"So do I" he turn "Mike make sure that staff eat, sleep and stay here until further notice" Mike turn ,
nodded and left.
"Poor girl. She's gonna go spare," sighed the counsellor. "Not like we have a phantom limb. Have you
tried re-generation? Growing a new arm for her."
"I'm in the process of, but first I must deal with trauma to the arm that wasn't bone."
"Would take long," Dharma scratched her head. "But would be adequate for physiology and re-hab. I
want to know what did this, Francois, or I will not be a happy bunny."
"Upset and bunny, hard time to get the connection there" Probably some english saying he tought.
"Oh, I'd be a scary, upset bunny. Keep me posted, won't you." Arihana said it firmly, this was no
relaxed, see what happens task.
"Yes ma'am" He turn and concentrate on the task at hand "Vivianne let rebuilt this arm."
"Keep at, I'll be back later," Arihana nodded. "Let her sleep it off, then I'l need a chat."
=/\= SB BoB - Flight Deck =/\=
Quide stood beside the ramp leading up into the KnightMare. The Nomads couldn't possibly come fast
enough for his tastes, since if he had his way, he'd have launched by now. Still, his spirits were up after
his much dreaded call to Jinti and the pleasant surprise that came afterward. He might actually survive
the boozeless trip without taking his, or anyone else's life. Well, one could hope, anyway.
From across the bay, he heard the sound of the turbolift opening. It was about time. He wore a
welcoming smile to greet the marines as they came, and wondered who would be among them. Not
that he knew any of them except for one team, but he wondered all the same.
Angel and her recon team had seldom been onto the flight deck before, never having had the necessity
to do so since the away mission that was now known as The One With The Exploding Planetoid, and so
it was with some mild interest that they looked around.
"We're going in *that* again?" she scoffed as she saw the KM in all it's ugly, battered splendour. "They
might have upgraded since the last time."
John-Boy, having never had the pleasure, just shrugged, "Looks solid enough. Who's the pilot?"
Angel gave Tom Quide a searing glance, "One of the Captain's Munchkins, I believe. Never flown with
him myself, but I know that some of the other have."
"Ha, yeah, heard some stories about that," Tennant was in a better mood now they were actually
setting off, and although he wasn't particularly chummy towards Simm, he wasn't cold-shouldering him
either.
"Back in the MU, yeah?" Ecclestone added. "Where they blew up half the city. Sounded fun."
"Isn't it going to be a bit crowded?" John-Boy looked at the number of marines now assembling.
Angel shrugged, "Shouldn't think we'll be travelling more than a couple of days, in that case. Or else
they'd send a support ship as well. Three, four days absolute max."
"Yeah, about that.." Tennant was also trying to do the logistics in his head. "You ain't heard anything
about where we're heading then?"
"No." Angel said shortly. "Which means it's probably going to be covert ops of a kind. I hope."
John-Boy just rubbed his hands together as they approached the entry ramp, "Sounds fun. Lead on."
Jack had been following along behind, listening to the others. Finally, he decided to say something, "I
like to fly," he said. "It's better than a romp in the swamp with an alligator. Y'all don't appreciate the
finer things in life."
James was trudging along, in no particular hurry. His kit bobbed up and down on his back, making him
look like an aged and wearied hobo. In his hands the silver wrapper of chewing gum rustled noisily. His
unshaven jowls moved as though he was a Friesian chewing the cud. He looked up a moment to see
Simm. There was just that something about Simm. To give him a wide berth. Woof would argue that it
wasn't fear, just common sense and not wanting to land in a pitfall of the would be Joker of the pack.
Looping his tongue around the gum his mouth, he exhaled to form a bubble.
He edged past Frost, almost tiptoeing along. "You, are scary, and I, am staying well away," he said
levering his kit from his shoulders.
Angel flicked him a disinterested glance, "Sounds like a plan," before walking straight on past, leaving
him talking to thin air.
"With all respect, and that's a lot," he nodded solemnly, before he got his head bitten off, "Have heard
about you, you make a Cold War female shot-putter look like a tabby cat."
Jack looked at James wondering if he had an anhilation wish. "Maybe we should go over a few things
about how not to put yourself in hot water with a marine of the female gender," Jack suggested.
Tennant, Simm and Ecclestone had been following hard on her heels, and stopped as Fidoe spoke.
Ecclestone opened his mouth to say something but Simm caught his eye and made a quick motion with
his hand - a zip-it across the lips followed by a quick twirly motion at his temple. The message was clear
- leave it, he's a loony.
But whether by accident or design, it had only been in Ecclestone's sightline and not Tennant's, so it
was down to Tennant to face him down, "Yeah, she's tough, so what? Scared of losing your privates,
private?"
"Too right, I'm scared," scoffed Woof. "Never mind a glock, She's like blooming Nightshade. Pretty, but
she'll knock you straight out. That," Woof grinned, "and if I ever want anything, best idea to brown
nose and rue my luck later. Protocol and perfection, eh, marines as the special breed."
Tennant was going a bit cross-eyes at the verbal rambling but he persevered, even as he caught JohnBoy's smirk out of the corner of his eye. He knew full well that Frost was a mean little piece but there
were two reasons not to let an outsider diss her. One, she'd saved his life recently and two, she was
recon - and recon hung together. "Here's a useful bit of protocol, chum - speak when you're spoken to,
get out of my face and go and sit down. Before the sergeant sticks his boot up yer arse."
"Oh, I'm going," Woof noticed realised that his wittering was doing him no favours. "Before she
unleashes the hounds of hell or summat," he commented to find himself a perch.
As he looked for a seat, Tennant glared at the other two, "What the hell was *that* all about?"
John-Boy snickered, "Sorry mate, you didn't catch the warning. I came in with that guy. He's got a
terminal case of Verbal Diarrhoea. Starts chunnering on and you never know what the fek he's talking
about."
Tennant just rolled his eyes and barged past, leaving the other two following in his wake as they made
their way into the ship and sat beside Angel, who remained blissfully unaware of her champion.
Quide was left fuming as the marines disappeared inside. Not even a hello, just an ugly look from a
woman who, from the brief encounter, seemed even uglier - internally anyway, she was warp engine
hot on the outside.
Were manners not part of their basic training? He had a good mind to storm in there and tell them
what was what. Or, barring that, strap himself in and cut the inertial dampeners before going to warp.
That'd show those uppity bastards. 'Sure we'll take a lift from you, but we're going to spit in your face.
Is that ok?' No. No it's not ok.
"Hello," came the quiet greeting from Private Sasaki as he passed by, on his way up the ramp.
"Ah, 'ey there! Make y'self at 'ome!" Quide said cheerfully, his face darkening slightly when the fair
skinned giant had passed. ~All right, I won't off the lot o them, but just those first few 'ope I don't catch
them alone on the ship.~
Inside, Akira Sasaki picked out a seat in the middle of the ship, a few paces removed from the recon
group. He wouldn't want to intrude on their group, after all. Besides, he didn't feel like talking. It
wasn't that he wasn't in a good mood - quite the opposite. This mission gave him a second chance in a
rather short period of time to prove himself. But, as he often was, he felt like introspecting - analyzing
himself and his readiness for what lay ahead. Besides, there were days of boredom ahead during which
he could have his fill of friendly banter and time-consuming rambling.
Xavier came in with his small bag and all his equipment, it not that he didn't have alot to bring but like
to travel with the strict necessary. He saw everyone enjoying themselves joking and smiling and felt
kind of outside the circle. Like when your at school and your group of friends are all there before you
chatting, you feel like your missing something or worse that the are enjoying themselves and your
missing the big picture. He move forward and slowly got to the group hoping that he would blend in.
Fidoe was starting to realise. That there was a certain clique-yness to the band of Recon men. He eyed
Sasaki nervously, and the chap that had followed him in. There was a split all right. Right down the
middle. If the recon was a members only club, then perhaps it was time to set up an opposition party.
Woof moved along to the new arrivals. "Akira, that you?" He asked squinting, this was an informal
eyeballing session, so surnames would only be used at a later point. He wanted first of all see what the
power sharing hierarchy was for the moment.
Akira was roused from his thoughts and looked up to find Fidoe standing nearby. Obviously, he
recognized the face, but wasn't sure whether or not he'd caught a name. "That's me," he confirmed
with a nod. He thought to ask Fidoe for his name, but he was already turning to address Xavier.
"And Xavier, you'd be the other fella," Woof offered a hand to each, dumping his kit and then the rest
of him. "Talking to that lot, it's as though you were something on the bottom of their boots," he kept
this tone to a whisper, but was being frighteningly honest. "Now, which one of you pair has standards
which I don't meet, I can always go sit in the fuel core."
"I have little to say about anyone except myself" returning the honesty "We're all in the same ship,
fighting the same enemies."
"Akira Sakasi, what with the scared bunny look?" Woof said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "This
is the marines, kid, not the cheerleading squad," he added, unwrapping more gum.
"This bunny has big, sharp, pointy teeth," Akira answered with a grin and his best John Cleese
impression. "You'll be glad for this rodent if there is a scrap. especially with a squad of cheerleaders."
"Don't look so worried, am sure that Xavier here and I, we can deflect any would be gymslip groupies,"
nodded Woof. "How remiss of me, I'm James Fidoe. Called Woof, amongst other things. A pleasure to
annoy the living daylights outta you both."
"Pleasure to meet you Woof, people call me Ticker, I don't go often but when I do I go with a bang!"
"Well, if it was a displeasure," Woof blew a white a balloon, "You'd both be dead, and I'd be talking to
myself. Comms relay rule number eleven. Dead air means trouble."
Xavier smile but didn't quite have a answer "So you know the other part of the group?" trying to get
some knowledge on the rest of the band afterall it hard to help someone you don't know.
"I know that there is an 'In group-out group' thing going on," replied Woof. "They already know each
other, or have cosyed up to one another very quickly," he said with a shrug. "That and I clearly don't fill
the entry requirements. If you aint Recon, don't bother opening your mouth. Closed Shop."
"I see, all I know id that they seem close enough to insult each other without seriousness."
"They do seem close knit," Akira agreed with a subtle glance in their direction. "It's to be expected
though, since they work so closely together."
"As you may already have gathered, I tend to talk the hind legs off a donkey," Woof wasn't going to
deny that his ramblings were anything but neurotic. "Communications and data relay. You know how
back in the day a telephone exchange often had a girl pulling and plugging the wires. Well, I'm the girl,"
he stated with an assured nod. "Stops all the wires getting crossed, and have fun with some swish
looking toys that are all sparkly and stuff so that we always stay connected, all very Borg like."
"But needed indeed, I'm but a soldier, train to kill. Fairly simple. Get the gun, put the gun forward and
kill anyone stupid enough to shoot at me"
"Well, you pair haven't smacked me round the head, yet, or told me to go whistle," Woof nodded, "So
I'm happy. You're still listening, well, I hope Sakasi is, I'd hate to see if he has a temper to match that
striking red hair of his."
"Well so far, so good" he started to laugh
Akira wondered about Woof. He came over, talked, received responses, and still wondered if you were
listening. He supposed that it was because Fidoe tended to talk so much that every time he turned
around, the people he had been talking to ran off. "I'm listening," he assured him. "The question is,
through your talking, are you actually saying anything?" It wasn't said with any degree of annoyance Sasaki just wondered if there was a point other than bemoaning the closeness of another group of
comrades.
Woof smiled, and slowly shook his head. "Nope. As I said, I could talk the back end off a donkey. Don't
mean it's useful. Ah, well," he shrugged, chewing away still. "I'll just have to take to talking to
brickwalls, or be resigned to being unsociable. I dunno."
"I don't mind talking for the sake of talking, I was just curious," Akira said with a shrug. "But speaking of
speaking, have you heard anything about where we're going?"
"I'm sure we're goin' to be dropped into something that involves talking with heavy artillery," said
Woof, churning out a double ballooned circle. "Rather than our vocal cords."
Private Sasaki nodded absently. "It would be nice if there were more information as to what exactly
we're travelling to."
"Guess The Gaffer will let us know what's what," Woof searched the inside of his tunic, to retrieve his
little black book. The ace of spades fell out, and was poked back i.n.
"Good book?" Akira asked, looking inquisitively at the small piece of literature.
"Just a technical manual, need to read something over," he replied, retrieving a small nub of a pencil
from the back of his ear. "So, I'm going to shut up now, let you fellas growl your annoyance at my
incessant yabbering." he said it as a look of concentration furrowed his brow.
Letting Fidoe alone to his book, Akira leaned over a bit toward Xavier and lowered his voice. "Think I
offended him?"
"I don't know" he said honestly. chatting wasn't his best skill, blowing things up was.
Akira shrugged and sat up again. "I guess when you're life and occupation is chatting, it might sting to
think someone isn't interested in holding up a conversation with you."
"Everyone as their reason to do stuff, the only thing she should take offence too is bad food or bad
orders. The rest should be taken with a grain of salt. Like I said before I'm here to kill, not to test if
someone can speak the donkey ass off or if someone is offended by the lack of communication. Soldier
we're a family , a family of killers" he winked at him.
Jack moved inside with a nod to Quide and found a spot for himself. He leaned back, relaxed and
began his favorite hobby - watching marines in tight places getting into trouble. It had to happen.
*****
Having seen the last of the Nomads enter the KnightMare, Quide made his way on as well. Looking
back at the group as he passed them, he wondered what it would be like to spend days and days with
these marines. Though, he figured that they would keep their distance for the most part. Aside from
McManus, most marines he had met tended to have a sense of superiority to the other armed forces
that didn't lend itself well toward social interaction. It was more or less proven by the slim fraction of
Nomads that actually acknowledged his presence while boarding.
He had already gone through his preflight, so all he had to do was give it some gas, but first things first.
He tapped the comm and brought out his best airline pilots voice.
"Ello, this is y'lieutenant-captain speaking. We're about ready to depart, so I 'ave to ask y'to keep
y'ands to y'self and y'weapons o mass destruction in an upright an locked position. We'll be cruising at
an average speed o warp 4, and the forecast shows no weather on our projected route, which is a
pleasant change o pace from recent events. There isn't a movie on this flight, but there is plenty o
music, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight."
Closing the comm line he hailed Ops. "Parting is sweet sorrow and all o that. Give me the green and
y'can 'ave a good look at this ship's well shaped backside."
****
In the Command Centre, Crewman Lupha called over to Mulder, "Captain, 've got the KnightMare
awaiting clearance for departure."
"Ah, yes...off on the Marine training exercise," Mulder said casually. "Lucky them, getting away from
the blackout for a few weeks. Give them the go-ahead."
Lupha just nodded and confirmed, initiating the opening of the flight deck forcefield.
Mulder returned to studying her Padd, but inside she sent a silent wish for the Ethiks of Good Fortune
to send them safely to their destination and back. If things had been different she would have been
heading out to Breen Space herself with them. If Vaughan had been leading them she'd have gone to
the Flight Deck to wish them bon voyage herself and no-one would have thought it strange.
But Vaughan wasn't their CO right now, and she had to maintain the cover of the expedition being
nothing more than a routine training exercise.
So she said nothing, and simply continued with her reading of the latest report. Fortunately, in it's own
way, the contents of the report from Gigi Gomez were more than enough to startle her into focussing
on station matters..
*****
While waiting for his clearance, which didn't take long at all, Quide sorted through his music and
picked out the best song he could think of to start the trip, and punched it up on the ship's speakers
upon being given the green light.
Trigger Happy seemed fitting enough, given his cargo.
*****
"They're away," Lupha reported, and Mulder gave an abstracted nod as she picked up the next Padd.
Outside, the small powerful old transport ship veered away from the station on it's heading on the first
leg of the long trip to Breen space.
=/\=GhDar Prime - Kaliset Clan Home - 22nd hour of the day=/\=
Cerisa, the smallest and youngest of her family, stepped into the large living area of her clan home. A
good portion of the rest of her family was assembled, simply relaxing after a long day of testing the
rebuild work being done on the systems installed in the GDV Sirok, the Gorn navy's newest shiny toy.
At least it would be a shiny toy had it worked right the first time, but the fact it didn't was one reason
she was there in the first place. Those here were mostly assigned the Sirok as her crew. Krusse was the
ship's Captain. Yas was Chief Medical officer, and Cyril had been assigned to the ship as an advisor
since his yards built most of the superstructure.
"Where is mother?" Cerisa asked her siblings matter-of-factly as she placed her hands on the back of
one of the heated chairs in the place.
The fact Cerisa was the youngest of her siblings was something she was keenly aware of, as were all of
them. By all rights, that put her at the very bottom of the pecking order, so to speak. That she was also
physically the smallest of them reinforced that feeling. None of her siblings really bullied her with the
exception of one, and he was thankfully not present.
"Out getting her claws manicured, as usual." her eldest sister, Yas, said. "Why?"
"I needed to ask her something." Cerisa said quietly, then settled herself on one of the seats.
They had been at it for twelve hours fixing, testing, and tweaking the Sirok's warp drive and tactical
systems and all of them were sore and exhausted. With the ship parked in orbit, it was good to be able
to get home for a bit of relaxation. It was something she had little chance to do since she arrived.
"Oh you know how mother is," Yas continued. "She wants her claws painted pink to see if she can
catch herself a male." The older female Gorn let out a chuckle. "Since Zogozin dropped her for being a
little crazy, she has only gotten worse."
"Now now, sister," Krusse said. He was Cerisa's eldest brother and the official head of the clan since
the position was passed to him from their Grandfather...Much to their mother's chagrin. "It is impolite
to speak of your mother like that."
"It is true, though," Cyril piped in. He was sitting off a bit, holding a Gorn fledgling in his lap. The little
one, Kisiri, Cyril's youngest son whom he was watching while his wife tended the other of his sizable
family. The little fledgling was still just barely an infant, but was happily gnawing on his father's arm
with those little sharp teeth of his. All the while, Cyril was munching on something he had in a cup,
occasionally feeding morsels of it to his son. "Mother has always been a little crazy."
"I never said it was not true," Krusse said with a chuckle and took a swig from a drink he had..."And
what are you eating, it smells absolutely repulsive!"
"Spicy Chicken Bites," Cyril said with a chuckle then fed another to Kisiri. I swiped the recipe from
Starbase BoB's computer when I was there and programmed our replicator to make it.
"Ssssik'un!" the little Gorn hissed, then munched on the fried hunk of meat.
"How disgusting. Do not feed those to him," Yas demanded. "It is cooked and you will make him sick
eating cooked food!" Cyril just chuckled and patted his son on the head, then started bouncing the
little Gorn in his lap, much to Kisiri's delight by the giggling. Yas just scoffed at him.
"Speaking of BoB, I assume you are anxious to get back there." Krusse said to Cerisa.
"I am..." Cerisa said, seeming a bit worried about something. "It is not that wish to be away from my
family, but there is a lot I miss there."
"Oh, I know," Yas said. "A certain Klingon...." The elder female said with a laugh.
"I met him," Cyril said as he downed another piece of chicken and shared it his son. "I like him. Good
fellow and tough warrior."
"I want details!" Yas said with a devious grin.
"Those details are none of your business, Sister," Cerisa retorted with a laugh. "Yes, I miss
K'Ral...Terribly so. We had begun arrangements to be married before I was called here."
"Tomorrow is the final day of testing we will need, I believe," Krusse said. "We should be able to get
you out of here after that."
"And back to that foul station, I assume," came the shrill female voice making its way into the room.
"You need to realize your place is here, daughter!" the eldest Gorn, Xiera, said as she stepped into
sight wearing an expensive new dress and freshly pinked claws. Age was starting to show on her. Her
scales had faded to a dull yellowish color and her body had grown thin, but she was still muscular and
strong, as all Gorn were. "Off to go galavant with a Klingon too." The old Gorn visibly shuddered.
"Disgusting mammals."
"I will have you know, mother," Cerisa snapped with a growling hiss, "that K'Ral is the best thing to
happen to me in a very long time. That station has been an absolute boon to my life. I have friends
there and people that care about me. What would you have me do, throw it all away and be your little
house servant?" Cerisa was visibly angry now. Her mother's poor attitude was starting to get to her.
"You could do worse than that." her mother said as she glided over towards Cyril. "You have been
thrown into a station with a bunch of rejects in the middle of nowhere. You do not have a Starfleet
Career. All you have there is that Klingon." her mother then got a look in her eyes. "You two have
not......"
"We have!" Cerisa growled. "For hours, at length, more than once a day over several days until we
were both too exhausted to move." The younger Gorn grinned. "It was the best time I had in all my life,
and when I get back I will do so again and again and again." The older Gorn just pulled a face of disgust
while Yas nearly fell out of her chair with laughter. Cyril was just facepalming and shaking his head.
"Tramp is all you are." their mother said snidely.
"That is enough!" Krusse bellowed. "Both of you behave." he looked at his siblings. "I recommend we
get to sleep. We must be up early to get through the last of the testing."
"Yes," their mother said. "You all seem just a little cranky to me." She made sickly sweet face as she
scooped up Kisiri and burbled at him. "Hello there, little one, are you happy to see your Grandmother?
The little Gorn just made a face at her before throwing up all over her dress with a loud "BLARGH!!"
The old Gorn just looked at her dress in horror while her grandson laughed.
"I guess that answers that question," Yas said as she downed the rest of her own drink and sauntered
into her room with a chuckle, though she wasn't the only one laughing at that point. Quietly, the old
Gorn handed the child back to his father.
"Chicken bite?" Cyril said with a lopsided grin and offered the cup of treats to his horrified mother.
=^= Infirmary =^=
François was in his office trying to review the medical log from his new patient. Vivianne was also
reviewing some report and was sitting in front of him. They had chosen to take some tea while reading
and writing reports, fact was everyone preferred to be with someone else now. The patient had
brought fear and panic in his staff, they had manage to stay transparent and act as normal but
everyone had taken the offer of staying and sleeping in the medical lab. It also gave the staff the time
to appreciate the others but most were very happy to be with other and feel protected by the doctor
which was after all as disturbed.
Vivianne was given a few looks at the doctor that was obviously lost in his mind. He hadn't touch one
button on his PADD or even change the PADD for that matter for a hour now. She was worried, if he
fell to the danger or stress the infirmary would be chaos. "You ok" she ask with her little smile and big
eyes.
"I'm fine, tired that all" he responded with soft word and a smirk.
"Something bothering you François, I can tell" she said with wink.
"The darkness, it's going to become seriously painful if the darkness itself become an enemy. How can
you fight something that everywhere?"
"You don't, you fight what inside of it. You once told me that the issue is often buried in the problem. It
not because a patient complains that the real issue, you have to dig underneath and see what real
problem there is."
"True" he gave a small answer and took a sip of his now call the Light tea."
"So what the real issue Hon, it's not the darkness only"
He gave a short smile and drop the PADD "Your right, women are always in my mind"
"Is that so?" she said dropping her PADD herself and giving the biggest smile ever.
"I almost made a huge mistake. Almost ran to say to Dharma that I love her"
"Well do you?" she ask taking a more counsellor pose with the tea in her hand.
"No, yes..no. The relationship I have with her is so demanding emotionally. We hate each other, then
with like each other, then she kiss me, then I hate her again, then she awesome. She get to me every
time"
"Get to you, you mean to your emotions." taking a sip of tea to put the cup on his desk.
"Yes, I want a different relationship, but not serious, but serious enough"
"You mean more serious then twenty some messages per day that I take from woman that want a
message"
"Exactly, a woman I can be exclusive too, have fun, love but no expectation long term, one day at a
time" he took a sip "don't think it possible"
"So you don't want to get married?" she burst laughing.
"No" he join her laughing.
"Well the solution might be closer then you think."
"You think?"
She gave a smile again "Well since you don't love Dharma, that she give you only up and down will
discard her. The triplets is a no go, since three is way to much for any man in this federation. Emily,
Joanna, Martine, Stephanie, Allison, Christie, Katarina, Katrina, Joelle, and that brunette with the long
hair well they'll have to stop too. They're not good candidate either"
"Ok, so at this point you took away about half of all the lady I know"
"Cut the other half I don't remember" she wink.
"Ok, now where are you going with this, their not many left"
"Exactly!" she sat back in her chair happy of her evolution " the hard one to get "
"Ah! You want me to start from scratch"
"No, I telling the hard to get are usually like that because they expect more then a cheap message"
"Their not cheap, very good of what I've heard.." he defended.
"Hon, it's not the message your good at" she answered.
He look at his hand "Your sure, I always thought that was my biggest asset"
"Trust me, they don't care about it" she smirk.
"How do you know?" now needing the source of information.
"Ladies talk, they talk in restaurant, flower shops, promenade, bathroom...we talk everywhere, we
commune information, why do you think we're so powerful? Why do you think it's a lady that leading
us, or voyager or anything else that gave meaning to your life?"
"Let me guess women?"
"Yop. We learn power by outnumbering the opponent or just scare him to death"
"Ah...so no message"
"No message..let the spa work" she laugh.
"Alrigth back to the hard to get"
"You meant the serious one" she look at him with serious eyes.
He had learn that what *they* said couldn't often be repeated instead a man should learn to use
diplomacy in correcting the word use. "the serious one, right"
She got up and smile "got luck"
"what do you mean good luck? your stopping now?"
"Do I have to do all the work here, use your brain, your a doctor you're suppose to be smarter then the
others..." she wink "Beside I have a meeting in the bathroom" she burst laughing.
He laugh too and took a PADD. All he had in mind was the hard to get....hard to get...hey L'mer could
be put in this category, so could Vivianne.He shock his head rapidly and went back to the proper
technique of trauma control on a patient with no flesh...Hard to get...
=/\= SB BoB Infirmary Post Surgery recovery Suite =/\=
Counsellor Dharma was stood by the viewing port in the corner of the room. She was trying to read
over notes with the aid of a micro flash light. There were two padds that she was looking at. The first
was the rather extensive medical notes pertaining to Amy Taylor. The other was a rather slimmer
volume, counselling notes.
Behind her, tucked into a bio bed with a cacophony of various machines, was Amy Taylor.
Arihana was trying to get her head around pre-surgery notes. A medical history. The conversations had
by both the patient and the medics, the observations from security. She heard something.
There was low pained grizzle from Amy.
The counsellor turned, tucking the micro light into a pocket. She arrived at the patients bed side, and
tweaked a sensor that had come loose.
"Where am I?" Amy was hoarse, and her eyes were narrow openings, she groaned as she moved her
head.
"Hello, Amy, i'm Dharma. You're in the infimary," replied the counsellor. Arihana flattened the sheet
down, as Amy had rufffled it loose.
"Infirm-why, oh, itn hurts," Amy went to touch her arm. "Oh, no," she whispered.
"Yeah, about that," Arihana pulled up a chair. "My colleague the doctor had to do some work to stem
the bleeding. You've lost a bit of your arm."
"It hurts, and it is all fuzzy," whimpered Amy.
Arihana nodded, "That would be the codiene. Nice stuff. Amy, sweetie, I'm going to have to ask you
some questions, Okay?" she wasn't going to push it too far, but she had to try. "First of all tell me what
you remember."
There was a nod from Amy, fingers edging towards where her arm ought to be. She spoke, slowly, her
words were scattered at first. Detailing where she had been, going about her daily business. Doing
what she normally did. Yes, it was dark. But there was this different darkness,
Arihana listened. Attentively. Making notes, first of all on a practical level. Where this attack, for the
want of a better adjective, had happened, when and within what civilian proximity. On a second level,
the seccadic dialogue was for trauma assessment.
Amy spoke, at times repeating details. It helped her rememeber, as though she was back there. Seeing
it, feeling it. The dark.
"I was just doing what I normally do, yeah, it's dark," said Amy, "But life goes on don't it?"
She continued. Just describing how she had got to the place.
"And what did you do, I mean, with your hand?" asked the counsellor, putting out her own hand to
reach out and grasp air.
"That, I mean, that's what I did. Just reached out," replied Amy.
"Put your hand out," again Arihana put her hand out, her fingers grasping at the air. "Like this?"
"Yeah," nodded Amy. "The dark, i just put out my hand, and then," she inhaled sharply. "Oh, it hurt, my
arm, it was a mess. All gone."
The counsellor nodded, "you didn't see anything, animal, or llama, my dog, thing with teeth?" she
glanced up from her notes.
"Nothing," Amy shook her head, "I didn't see anything, but I fel it go. My arm. I didn't see teeth, eyes,
or feet, anything."
"Anything, amy," asked the counsellor again. "Shapes in the dark, feel anything, fur, tails...."
Amy shook her head, "Honestly, Dharma, I didn't see anything."
"Okay," Arihana smiled. "Thank you, for answering my questions," she placed the two padds together,
before sending her rough notes to both the Captain and baxter. The Captain would have an initial
assessment report, and baxter could relay the security patrol. "You've done very well," smiled Dharma.
"I don't know what else...."Amy was by now close to tears.
"Sweetie, we'll find it," the counsellor patted her hand with some degree of reassurance. "I promise.
Get some rest, okay."
Arihana stepped away from the biobed, and clutching the padds, wandered back to office. Only she
had to take a detour for a few moments of research. She took a few moments to go to Prolouge. There
was something in what Amy Taylor had said. Slowly, Dharma scanned the shelves. Monsters,
mythology. It had to be something.
Clutching a few tomes, Arihana crept into a corner, having asked for a blank padd. Then she took up a
bean bag, and cross referenced everything she knew about the unconcious psyche and all the monster
mythology that she could cast her eyes over.
=^= BoB - In front of CO's office =^=
The doctor was trying to catch his breath before hitting the chime, after what happen with his patient
he didn't want to stick around longer to find out what may have cause the attack. He decided to take a
run for it. He took a few deep breath and press the chime, waiting for an answer. Trying to wipe the
sweat from his forehead, this was getting really problematic but he had lost a few pound so far, fear
was always the best motivator when it came to lose weight.
"Doctor?" Mulder was close by the door so opened it herself. "Were you looking for me?"
He almost got surprise by the captain face "Sorry my mind was somewhere else, how are you captain"
"Worried," came the blunt reply. "How about you?"
"I've been doing better, came to give you a report that needed your attention. Something weird."
"That's a bit of a stretch, around here," was the dry rejoinder. "Care to explain? Funny weird?"
"No bob weird. Remember when we felt something together eith that boy, well that something is now
attacking people and eating their flesh, muscle and drinking their blood."
Mulder indicated he should come in, "I won't forget it in a hurry."
"A patient was transferred from security had literally a bone hand. Had to stop major trauma and
rebuild most of the arm. The counsellor was made aware and will speak to Amy when she wakes up."
Mulder nodded grimly, "I know. I saw a report from Crewman Gomez just now. What's your opinion?
Hell, what *happened* to the girl?"
"No saliva, no teeth mark, no mark at all, like air just rip it apart. She said to the security that she tried
to touch the darkness." his look was now very concern "Why would you touch it if it was only darkness,
she must had saw something in the darkness. You don't touch the light, you touch a form in the light,
same principal but the opposite."
"I wish it was.." Mulder looked even more worried now, "I'm not sure what to believe any more.."
"When I was" he try to make it professional since it really was "met a girl walk with her, got the weird
feeling then she put light in front and I had two shadow, the second was looking at me, creepy and
now I sure I wasn't dreaming."
"Two shadows?" Mulder looked intently at him. "Are you sure?"
"Certain of it, before seeing her I wasn't sure.."
"It's just.. there was something once... an old sci-fi show, or story, or something, that made a point of
how people are right to fear the dark, because of what's inside it." Mulder was racking her brains now.
"Tell me, what happened to the extra shadow? How did you lose it? I mean, which one did you lose?
Both? or just one?"
"vanish as soon as the torch went trough, I also ran very fast" he smirk.
"So we have to wonder if the one that vanished wasn't a shadow at all.. but the darkness in disguise.."
Mulder broke off impatiently, "That sounds crazy, and I wish I knew how to explain myself properly.
Did this new friend of yours say anything else? Know anything else?"
"No, she had to leave with her captain, he came and got her at my quarter five minutes after we got in
and lock the door" He shook his head "Did security see anything?"
"No, Crewman Gomez didn't actually *see* anything - but her report only adds to the growing pile of
strange things happening," Mulder sighed.
"I fear of more attacks and worse I fear that next time only bones will be left and at that point..." he
didn't dare to finish.
"I'm afraid that's my conclusion too," Mulder shook her head. "It's escalating, there's no doubt. I
believed - hoped - it was just imagination overtime, but it isn't.. it just isn't."
"It attacked rats first but now it attacking bigger living things, is it growing? if it is , what next...groups?
All questions that need to be considered" he sat in front of her.
Mulder leaned against the desk. "I can't take any more changes. I'm going to have to close the station
until we can sort this out."
"Close it, you sure?"
"And I'll need to get everyone out of the darkness until we can investigate thoroughly. I'll get the
science department onto it. Plus I'll see what information Counsellor Dharma gets from your patient."
Mulder looked curiously at him, "I don't know why, but I get the odd feeling that I want to ask you
again if the random person you met said anything else?"
"The man said something about out of the shadow or staying out of the shadow, now that you said it ,
he seem pretty relax about it..travellers they said, they must see pretty strange thing and after all
darkness is nothing to be fear.." he winked, "...normally"
"Stay out of the shadows.." Mulder repeated slowly. "That's not bad advice," she gave a quiet mirthless
laugh. "It's all we can do right now until we know the nature of the beast. Leave it with me, Doctor. I'll
make an announcement to the station to get people fully aware of the danger."
"Thanks captain, now...I have to get back to work..."
"Take care," she cautioned urgently.
"I'll run, I'll be fine" he got up "The man in shape, well getting there"
Mulder gave a small smile, "And I'd like you to stay in one piece, too," she said with feeling.
"Good bye captain, keep me posted" looking at the darkness outside the office took a deep breath and
started running.
Mulder was about to compose a message to the station when her yeoman darted in, waving a padd.
"Captain - urgent report from Counsellor Dharma just came through. I thought you'd like to see it right
away."
"Thanks," Mulder took it and started to read Dharma's account of her interview with the traumatised
and injured girl. Things were getting worse by the second..
=/\=GDV Sirok - Engineering=/\=
Like most parts of the ship, Engineering was abuzz with activity as the crew scrambled for the last few
bits of these tests before the Sirok could be docked for final certification. So far everything had
performed well. The final test was to take the hulking vessel to maximum warp, stress it to see if it
would hold, and then perform an emergency stop.
The warp reaction chamber, Cerisa's contribution to the Sirok's systems, hummed as the two tandem
warp cores thrummed and pulsated out the top and bottom of it. her original design for the chamber
was holding up, despite the theft and alterations Ruusak had made to it. It was those alterations that
had caused the problems in the first place and those alterations that had caused her eldest brother to
call on her aid. Sure, the Gorn navy wasn't too thrilled that he called in outside help like that, but
despite being of an inferior cast she was the chamber's designer and knew it inside and out.
Quietly, Cerisa adjusted the flow balance between the two cores, bringing them in line within
tolerance. The entire room hummed as the power from the units traveled outwards from the reaction
chamber to other parts of the ship. Satisfied, she tapped the small comm badge on her wrist guard.
"Cerisa to Bridge," she said. "We are ready for initial run-up."
After a moment, the signal was acknowledged "You do know what you are doing, right?" came the
snide voice behind her. She growled and dug her claws into the console she was working at.
"Now is not the time to antagonize me, Ruusak," she bit at him without paying him enough heed to
look at him.
"I am not antagonizing you, sister," he said. "I simply wish to make sure you do not damage /my/
reaction chamber."
"Your reaction chamber?!?" She growled as she spun to look at him. He was standing there, sure of
himself as always, and leaning against the entry way into her work area. "You are a liar and a thief."
"I would suggest you watch what you say, sister," Ruusak said menacingly at her. "Bad things happen
to those who complain." With a snarl, she pushed her way past him back into the main engineering
section. She had little time for his games today. She wanted to get these tests over with and get back
to BoB. The Sirok, for all it's technological splendor, always felt strange and unfamiliar to her, where
BoB was her home. As she made her way past him, she felt a pressure on her arm, then looked to see
him gripping it tightly. This only elicited another snarl from her. "Keep your mouth shut," he said
quietly and threateningly.
Cerisa's response came as instinct and without warning. She balled her hand into a fist and knocked
him across the snout, sending his head reeling in the process. She did not doubt he could kill her, but
she would make it a damn difficult trial.
"Never touch me again, Ruusak," she snarled quietly, "or I will kill you."
"Is there a problem here?" came the cool low voice of the Sirok's first officer, Sub-captain Trask. He
had apparently been watching the exchange.
"No problem, sub-captain," Ruusak said as the snide demeanor returned. "Just a family disagreement."
Trask just sighed and shook his head. Siblings all on the same ship were going to be trouble, no matter
how you cut it. Trask just waved Ruusak away and looked at Cerisa. "Liege-Captain Kruuse reports
ready on the bridge. I am here to coordinate."
"Good," Cerisa said curtly after getting back her composure and biting down the anger that was welling
up in her. She stepped over to the main engineering console and made one final check. Trask took
position on the other side. Ruusak was making his way over towards them but a sidelong glance by
both Gorn gathered there made it clear that his presence was certainly not welcome. He huffed and
moved off to another console to begin monitoring. Cerisa then looked at Trask and nodded to signal
ready status.
"Trask to bridge," the first officer said. "You are go, phase one."
The transition from sublight to Warp speed was quick. The deck plating beneath Cerisa's feet vibrated
just slightly at the jump point before settling fully.
"Warp 1," Cerisa called from her console. "Warp 2.....Warp 3....Warp 4...."
"Intermix ratio is stable," Ruusak called from his console.
The tandem warp cores growled to life as the Siork gained speed, thrumming in time with each other.
The sound picked up pace as the Sirok moved faster and faster.
"Warp 6....Warp 7....Warp 8...." Cerisa continued.
"Core balance shifting..." one of the engineering crew yelled over the growling of the warp cores.
"Compensating!" Cerisa called back as she worked to bring the cores back in line. A minor adjustment
to the input plasma flow to the primary core did the job. "Warp 9...9.2...9.4....9.6.....9.8...."
"Overheat condition on secondary core!" came the voice of the same engineering crewman.
"Cross-vent the drive plasma!" Ruusak called back. Once that was done the overheat condition cleared.
Cerisa continued to count off the warp factor.
"9.9....9.92....9.94...9.98....9.99!" She looked up at Trask. "We are at maximum warp."
"Trask to Bridge," the sub-captain said, "we are at Max-V. Hold and maintain for five reliks."
This was the critical part of the test. Getting to max warp was easy.
Maintaining it without blowing the ship to pieces was another matter entirely. The air all around
Engineering seemed to thunder with each thrum of the warp cores, both pushed to the absolute limit
to supply power to their respective engines. The time seemed to pass like an eternity. Every time the
engines seemed to want to go out of balance, the situation corrected and compensated, just as the
Sirok's computer had been programmed to do at these speeds.
"Mark!" Cerisa said, noting as the time reached zero.
"Trask to Bridge, Emergency stop!" he yelled.
The entire vessel lurched as it went from several million kilometers an hour to a dead stop. The whole
structure of the vessel creaked, threatening to tear itself to shreds in the process, but it held together.
The inertial dampeners kicked into over drive, preventing the crew from being smeared all over the
nearest bulkhead. Once the sensation passed, Cerisa checked her station and ran a quick diagnostic on
the warp cores. As she did so, the entire Engineering crew was dead silent.
"All readings nominal." She said with a sigh of relief. The entire engineering section erupted into
cheers. They had been at this for weeks, pushing to ship to this point so that the crew could get back
underway and on assignment. They were not cheering for anyone in particular, just happy to have the
testing over with and the shakedown complete. Trask simply gave a professional nod and stepped out,
making his way back to the bridge.
Ruusak moved in and took his place, putting his claws on the console across from her. "Now where
were we?" he said with a growl. Cerisa just tilted her head and raised the ridge of one eye.
"You were going to wallow in the fact that you are too incompetent to do this job," she began, "and I
am going to deliver a report of the test to the Captain." Nearby crew chuckled at the comment,
apparently overhearing it.
She picked up a PADD and sauntered off, quite proud of the work and glad to finally get a chance to
make her way back home. She had not had communication with BoB in some time and it was worrying
her terribly. Ruusak, though, was simply left standing dumbfounded at the insult. With a snarl, he
slammed his fist on the console.
"You are going to pay for this embarassment sister," he hissed to no one in particular. "Oh yes...." he
eyed the crew all staring at him. "Get back to work!" he growled.
=^= Promenade =^=
A beautiful Vulcan woman moved through the Promenade in the darkness and out of it as many
businesses had come up with unique means of lighting. Her own restaurant had resorted to candles,
once used for romance, now used to see your hand in front of your face.
She noticed a familiar shape walking toward her and stopped. "Doctor?" she called.
"L'mer?" turning in her direction hand first "Is that you?"
She reached out a slender, long-fingered hand and touched his cheek. "Yes, it is you. And it is I. Or is it
me? I find your language sometimes difficult. However, I am L'Mer."
"Great" as he drop his hands " This dark thing is starting to really get me mad" he wink then realise she
couldn't see.
"I agree," she said. "It is most difficult."
"So what my princess doing in the dark?"
"Looking for a place to feel safe," she said.
"Safe? meaning your fearful and have an emotion?" he had a grin.
"I cannot explain it, Francois," she said. "Vulcans are not ones for imaginative fears, however, I feel
uneasy in the this darkness. Do you now feel it?"
"I felt a overwhelming darkness with the captain earlier where even my auras where mask. I'm rather
confortable in drakness usually but that incident made me uneasy."
"I had hoped to find you," she said. "It has been some time since we have been together. Does this
mean you have found another companion?"
He burst laughing "Another compagnion? No. We're speaking of me now...Your still my little logic
princess and I've no commitments to a woman or a compagnion.I'm free as air"
"Perhaps you have not found the right person yet," she said logically. "Or perhaps you have not paid
attention."
"Don't worry about it, we're here now" he wink "So where you want to go? or just walk?""
"Perhaps we could get something to eat, prepared by a master chief," she suggested.
"As you wish, as your brother?" as he put his arm forward and started walking toward the destination.
L'Mer smiled. "We have food spoiling in the dark. Then let us take a walk."
He started walking looking at her vulcan beauty, he face seem so clam and unstress.
They made their way to the restaurant where a waiter served them food and disappeared into the dark
kitchen.
"What have you been doing?" she asked.
"Regular, surgery, kissing baby and fixing moms or the other way around" he wink.
"And have you found adventure this week?" she inquired.
"The darkness as been an adventure for all"
"Have you thought of me at all?" she asked surprisingly.
The question caught him by surprise, really by surprise. "Coming from a vulcan, isn't that emotional?"
"It is logical," she said. "I am only asking for a fact."
"I see, I did miss you, espacially in your swimsuit " he smile waiting for her response.
"Indeed," L'Mer said, but her eyes seemed to sparkle. "We will have to swim again when the lights are
on."
He saw a aura coming toward them and realise food might be on it's way and decided to stop speaking
for a moment and just smile.
The waiter served a feast and then disappeared into the dark. They heard her brother say from the
kitchen, "Another free meal?"
"Yes," L'Mer said. "I am hungry. Francois, what do you think is really causing this darkness?"
"Well, I was in engineering and they spoke about plasma and wires." he smile "I'm the worse when it
come to engineering.
"I cannot understand why it has not been fixed," she said. "The engineers here are excellent for all the
old equipment they must work with."
"I have a strange feeling about this, the darkness, feel not normal. I feel like the darkness is almost
what causing the problem and not the other way around"
"Like something loves the darkness?" she asked. "Please explain."
"Well me and the captain were saving a kid in a cargo bay and we felt something strange."
"Such as?" she asked.
"Nothing human or vulcan for that matter more like a presence. Do you have wine? Better, how about
we go take one of my good bottle in my spa with a swimsuit?" he wink.
She actually returned the wink. "I have wine," she said.
L'Mer got up and returned with two bottles of wine and two glasses. "Let us go to your spa," she said.
"I do not have a swimsuit."
The doctor was almost shock, that happen rarely "heu...what about a swimsuit"
"I may not need one," she replied.
"It would be logical not to wear one if you don't have one" he wink.
As they walked along, L'Mer continued, "This presence," she said. "I have had that feeling not long ago.
I was walking in one of the lower corridorrs after a food delivery. Vulcans are not subject to
strangeness, but I felt as if someone were there."
"I wouldn't think it an emotional, dream or even fear that bring that sensation but more of something
unatural.
"More importantly, Francois," she said, "I knew someone was there. Vulcans have some ability that
Betazoids' possess - a small ability to sense."
"I couldn't see anything with aura but again could had been a black aura in darkness unable to be
differentiate."
"It is illogical," L'Mer said, "but ... it is wise to take caution."
"I agree" as he walk a bit faster then usual "Don't want you to get the wrong vibes here but I not
walking faster for the spa but the fear of not making to the spa" did that made sense? for him it did.
"Understood," she said.
"Can you fell it?" he turn his head slowly trying to peek behind him " or is it just me being scare of
darkness?"
"Logically speaking we have been talking about things that go bump in the night, so we begin to
imagine," L'Mer said. "The air is not right."
"Look for shadows, I seen them with a woman I was trying to help find her captain" he was serious now
"I had two shadows"
"Two?" asked L'Mer. "That is interesting." Her eyes darted from side to side.
"How fast can you run" he ask bodly "don't want to stick to long in these corridor" putting his hand
out.
L'Mer took his hand immediately. "I am faster than a human," she stated. "I will slow down for you."
She headed down the corridor at a fast clip with Francois beside her.
"Do you think it runs?" she asked.
"Hope not." as he ran in the doctor quarters "Think it has legs?"
"I wonder," L'Mer added as they neared the spa. "We will lock the door."
"Already done" he said catching his breath.
=^= BoB below and about =^=
It was a dark and stormy night and Baxter Mattingly, along with a hand-picked group of four security
officers, known for their bravery and skills, were making their way into the very depths of the station.
"Yeeeeeeew," Officer Elaine Franks said. "I've touched something icky."
Baxter turned his light on the brunette. Her hand was in a pile of jello.
"Franks," Baxter sighed, "that's left over from the security fun house last week we held for the kids.
Remember?"
"Yeeeeeew," she said, "Sir."
The team moved on. "I want you to keep alert for anything that doesn't look quite right. It could be
dangerous," Baxter said, remembering recent reports. "Now spread out and see what you can see."
The team separated. They moved cautiously, beams of light flickering here and there. In all, they spent
nearly two hours in the area and found nothng, except for the now expected presence of rat bones. It
seemed the rats were getting smarter or fewer as the piles weren't too noticeable anymore.
Finally the group met back again and stood in the center of the cargo hold they'd just finished
exploring.
"I didn't see a thing," Officer Mavis Dupont said.
"Me either, Sir," Officer Shane Smith added.
"Nothing, Sir, " added Officer Michael Fitzpatrick.
Baxter waited but Elaine was looking at him and not talking.
"Franks?" he asked. "What did you see?"
"Well, Sir," she said, "nothing until right now."
"Now?" Baxter asked.
"Yes, Sir," she said, "you seem to have two shadows."
She pointed.
Baxter looked turned around as the other security officers focused on the spot. They only saw one
shadow.
They looked at Franks.
"I swear, Sir, you had TWO shadows," she said.
Baxter had that prickling feeling on the back of his neck. "Lights," he said.
They pointed their lights behind Baxter. Nothing. Was that a little patch of darkness near the crates
that was just a little thicker. This was, truthfully, beyond Baxter's ability to battle. Blackness? Battle it
he would though.
"Phaser to kill," Baxter said, and they moved toward the thicker darkness.
When they reached it, there was nothing. The team flashed their lights all over the area and beyond,
but there was just nothing.
"Let's go," Baxter said. "Mark this hold as off limits for now. I'll want reports from each of you."
As the door slid closed on the cargo hold, Baxter wondered. He really, really wondered what was going
on.
=/\= SB BoB - Command Centre =/\=
"Lights coming back on in five... four...." the voice of Engineer PO Legend came over the comm and
everyone held their breath. After all this time - at last, hope of illumination. "..three...two..one....go!"
A cheer erupted as the main operations centre flared back into brilliant light, making most of the crew
blink furiously and some even covers their eyes, so accustomed they'd become to the low level
emergency lighting by now.
"Well done," Mulder smiled with relief. "Good job, Petty Officer. We can see again. Is this the same all
over the station?"
"Yes ma'am - all systems have been repaired. It's been crazy though, and I need to talk with you about
a few really odd things that have been happening - honestly, it's been like someone or something has
been sabotaging the repairs as we've been working. For instance - " he broke off.
"Yes?" Mulder asked sharply. "What is it, Petty Officer?"
Before he could reply, there was a cacophony of sound that came back over the comm, escalating
voices, shouts of alarm, as the lights flickered ominously - once, twice, and then with the explosion of
several filaments, went off again, plunging the room back into it's former darker state.
At the same time, an unearthly scream of a man in mortal terror and agony cut through the
intercomm.
"Report!" Mulder slammed the console. "Engineering - report! What's going on up there?"
"We need a medic - emergency - we need a medic," Legend shouted.
Mulder nodded to Lupha - "Do it. And then beam me direct to the repair site."
Lupha knew better than to query the order and as soon as the Infirmary had been informed she
activated the site-to-site transporter, and Mulder felt her molecules scramble in the beam.
=/\= Corridor =/\=
The scene that met her eyes was organised chaos. Temporary lamps lit the area at an open relay
junction box panel, that was still sparking intermittently. Legend was trying to shut down the flow, as
two of his assistants were crouching over a fallen colleague.
"What happened here?" Mulder peered over the shoulders of the helpers, and winced at what she
saw.
The fallen man was lying in a puddle of blood, from where his foot had been. His leg was intact, but at
the bottom on his calf there was nothing but a bony protuberance that was recognisable as the human
skeleton - the skeleton of the foot.
Swallowing hard and straightening up Mulder could only ask, "How the *hell* did this happen?"
Legend started to answer, but at that moment they were joined by two medics, who took one look at
the injured man and nodded grimly to one another. As one knelt to improvise a torquinet on the
mercifully unconscious crewer, the other hit his commbadge. "Infirmary, we have another. Stand by for
incoming. Request emergency site to site transport."
It was over in a second - medics and patient vanished in a shimmer, doubtless to be met by Doctor
Bonnenfant at the other end.
Only then did a shaken PO Legend complete his explanation. "Captain - I - it was just insane. One
minute we had the lights back up and working. It'd taken so many days because every time we got one
component fixed, it fried again. Almost as if something was following us around and - destroying our
work, for some reason. But we pulled an al-night shift and finally got the last bit on-line."
"Just now, yes," Mulder put a hand on his shoulder. "Take it easy, Petty Officer. You did everything you
could. Now tell me what happened here to that crewman."
"This is going to sound mad," Legend took one look at her face and said, "Or maybe not so mad, as I
think you know what I'm going to say, Captain. It's been like all the other times, not just us, what
everyone's been talking about. The darkness - it suddenly got darker, and there was this noise.. like
buzzing.. a thousand million angry flies... I don't know," he passed a hand over a sweating brow.
"Go on.." Mulder said calmly.
"Well, it felt like it was moving, which it couldn't be - shouldn't be, since all the lights were back on, but
even when they came back on it was like there was a shadow there, that we couldn't see. And then the
whole damn console started sparking out again, and the blackness came like a wall. Technician Nando
cursed and kicked out at it. Just a sort of reflex action, I guess, but he kicked *into* the darkness, and
then her started screaming.. and we dragged him into the lamplight, and saw... that..."
"Okay," Mulder squeezed his shoulder and let him go. "He's in good hands now, and he'll be fine. He's
the second person this has happened to - but now we have to make sure he's the last. Petty Officer,
take your crew and gather them in main engineering. I don't think there's any point in trying to repair
isolated outposts right now. You'll only be putting yourselves in harm's way. We have a bigger problem
right now."
"Ma'am?"
"It's not an accident, petty Officer. Something - something sentient - is doing this. I don't know how or
why, but I'm declaring a state of emergency until we can work it out. Now get all the lights you can and
get everyone away from the shadows."
"Aye-aye, captain."
As he started packing up his gear and relaying orders to his own department, Mulder quickly requested
a return transport back to the command centre.
=/\= Command Centre =/\=
Lupha and Morrie both gave her anxious looks as she re-materialised. "This isn't good, is it, Captain?"
Morrie stated.
"Nope, 'fraid not. Just another SNAFU time," he tried to make light of it. "Open a station-wide hail. I
need to get some safety protocols put into place. Oh, and go to Red Alert for a couple of bursts. That'll
get people's attention."
Throughout the entire station the red strip-lighting flowed crimson around the walls and decks as three
whoops of the harsh, discordant red alert klaxon sounded, before shutting off on her order. Then she
spoke..
"Attention all hands. We have an escalating situation and we need to slam some safety precautions
into place right now. Stay out of the shadows. I repeat, stay out of the shadows. There is
some..component.. to this darkness which appears to be quasi-sentient and it's highly destructive and
dangerous. It could easily prove fatal, so avoid the dark now. Get sleeping backs and sleep in
communal areas that use as much lighting as possible. Sleep in your stores, on the promenade, at your
work stations. Do not travel anywhere on the station unless your duty requires it. For longer distances,
request site to site transport."
"Security, counselling, and marines...assist civilians into the designated communal areas that we use.
Be careful as you go about this. Use the maximum light to keep the darkness at bay as you travel. That
is your one protection right now. Doctor Bonnenfant - stand by to treat any more accidents. I know
you're busy right now with a new patient, so update me when you're done. Good luck, people. And I
can't stress strongly enough - stay out of the shadows."
As Mulder closed the comm, Lupha let out a long breath. "Looks like I'll be sleeping on the floor then."
"For a while, yes," Mulder gave a grim chuckle. "Now, I need to go speak to the science department...
somehow, we're going to figure out exactly what this is - and neutralise it before things move to critical
level."
=/\= SB BoB Around and about =/\=
In the counsellors' quarters, a flicker. Arihana paused. A flicker of light as she pulled off her jersey. She
watched. Watched as it flickered. Oh, the joy, of letting there be light. It was getting ridiculous now.
That the dark were to hang like a age wearied curtain.It had had this oppressive heaviness to it. As
though this was the land of the perpetual night, with chink of sunlight to raise their hopes.
Then it flickered away again. A gasp from the counsellor, a boot in the direction of the beside table. A
sound or two of cursing the dark. Arihana hopped around as her toe throbbed. She was not amused.
Her hopes had been raised, and then dashed as though they were nothing. This was not fair.
"Attention all hands. We have an escalating situation and we need to slam some safety precautions
into place right now. Stay out of the shadows. I repeat, stay out of the shadows.....Security,
counselling, and marines...assist civilians into the designated communal areas that we use. Be careful
as you go about this. Use the maximum light to keep the darkness at bay as you travel. That is your one
protection right now. Doctor Bonnenfant - stand by to treat any more accidents. I know you're busy
right now with a new patient, so update me when you're done. Good luck, people. And I can't stress
strongly enough - stay out of the shadows."
Another curse. Another boot towards anything close. This was getting her goat. Could nothing go right,
would there be no light?
Arihana tugged her clothes back on, pausing by her closet to remove the baseball bat that was hanging
from the rail. She was now unamused, and angry. She wanted the light back, the lack of it was making
her crotchety. Her laces flip flapped from her boots as she exited her room, and past her sons door.
Her fingers darted quickly, to secure the entrance. Suraj would no doubt be confused, and anxious. She
would explain later.
The bat was dropped onto the sofa. Perhaps when she knew what was going on, she would ask Boston
to come by and occupy it. It appeared that his idea would have to come to some fruition. Arihana
knelt, to tie up her laces. Black waxy nylon that was plaited to stay laced through the eyelets and fast
not unravel.
On her coffee table were three paper bags. That would have to wait.
Tapping her badge, she relayed Avril. The counselling Yeoperson was well aware, having heard the
captains words, and had been anticipating a call to aid. They would meet a short distance away in the
communal area of the habitat area.
There were instructions.
Avril was to raid the emergancy support closet. Equipment was needed to set up a communal refuge.
And lighting. The luminatus torches would have to make an early debut. There would have to be fiscal
hit, the counsellor could concede that. At this moment in time, there was more at stake than the
colonial coffers and exchequer.
All units. All however many hundred of the luminatus were to be distributed. Civilians and staff alike.
The counsellor scooped up the baseball bat, slinging the nylon strap over her shoulder. It was a
security thing. After all, she was non combat department, as crewman gomez had reminded her all
that time ago. As much as that smarted, Arihana wasn't technically expected to use it. That was what
the marines and security were for. All she had to do was talk her way out of something.
Avril was directing the administrators from counselling. Sleeping bags, blankets, blow up matresses.
Replicate at will. Counselling still had a budget deficit from when Counsellor Dharma had been on her
earth based sabbatical. The counsellor was shrewd for being frugal.
Grey scratchy blankets, best reserved for the likes of Yakasa Mai, or whatever felons were sent. Coarse
things that would offer no pure comfort, but were better than spit on the wind. Scratchy sheets that
were wiry but robust, efficient in purpose.
The counsellor had arrived. She had that look about her. Impatience, and ticked off. Why oh why, could
this place never let folk be? Well, she was here now. Arihana ought to get her hands dirty. So she rolled
up her sleeves, went to rummage in the closet. There was an evac kit, a well used one.
Avril had to smile, the baseball bat was out. Someone clearly meant business.
Lamps. Sodium based lamps that could be held at head height. Mess tins, the mechanics for a dozen or
so camp beds.
Dharma was in rude voice. Requests were made to residents close to the communal hallways. They
were to pull out sofas, couches, loungers and anything. Seating, bedding, whatever they could pool.
The counselling yeoperson handed out the sleeping bags, the blankets of wiry wool. Amused, but
unsuprised by the vocal ferocity of the woman she worked for. Clearly, the counsellor had not wasted
her time on the terraces.
As Avril looked away, Arihana leant against the wall. She sighed, and put her head into her hands a
moment. She was tired, tired of the dark. It's frightening force and what the sheer disturbance it was
causing. She was tired. Tired of fumbling around. If only there was light. For then, they may have hope.
=^= Corridors of BoB =^=
Arihana, Suraj and Boston had just finished dinner at Pigs and were now wandering on a lower floor.
Boston was trying to read the note he'd made.
It was frighteningly easy. To have one arm half way around Bostons' waist, and a hand tucked into
cuver of the back pocket of his trousers. Suraj wandered on ahead. Arihana smiled, but was wary
somewhat. She had no idea what to say, if they were collared.
"Commander Mattingly said the ticket bundles were in a storeroom down here," Boston said. "I
thought it'd be easy to find them. Guess I got the direction wrong. Are you familiar with this area?"
"One corridor is like the next," replied Arihana looking around. "But we can always ask the computer."
"Wait, I think this is it," Boston said, moving over toward a door and peering at the plate on it. His light
was shining dimly. "Suraj, if I lift you up can you read that while I hold the light?"
Surak obliged, holding his hands up to be lifted. "Storeroom," he read.
"Yep, that's it. Let's get in and get the tickets," Boston said, that odd feeling flickering around the edges
of his thoughts."
He punched in the numbers he was given and the door open. Inside the storeroom held shelves of
boxes and interesting items, some of which were scattered around the floor. He stepped inside, looked
around and said, "Come on in. We're looking for a yellow box."
"Kay," Arihana rooted around, doing her best not to inhale the dust. As did Suraj, he shone a light
around the various boxes and unitary.
As he moved, he heard crunching. "What's that?" he asked "Someone down here with a snack?"
"Think it's dead," Suraj scuttled over, and put his hands on his hips.
"Probably just a few rodents," replied his mother.
Boston put the light on the floor and it caught the whiteness of the scattered bones. They looked fresh.
Boston shook his head slightly in the dark. Couldn't be. This place was a storeroom for items that rarely
got used.
"Tiny like rats," Boston agreed.
"Mummy used to smack them in our garden," Suraj scuffed the bones with the inside of his foot. "She
got a baseball bat."
"She did? She does?" Boston asked. "Yikes!"
"Don't worry, aint gonna use it on you," Arihana told Boston. "That would not be good."
"Well, it certainly wouldn't be good for me," he agreed.
"Tickets?" Suraj found a box that had fallen down the side of a boxed labelled Bourneville.
Boston went over listening to the crunch under his feet. "How many rats did this place have?" he asked
himself as he bent down to look at the box.
"That'd be it - 'Bourneville'. Just what the commander said." He reached down and picked up the box.
"Let's get back up and open it then."
"Okey doke, good plan," Suraj tapped the box.
They moved outside into the corridor again and that's when Boston felt it. His eyes moved up and
down the corridor, but he didn't see anything.
"Arihana," he said. "Do you feel it?"
Since you're about three feet away...oh, you mean the..."She waited to see what she was supposed to
be spooked by.
"Something's out here with us," he said. "At least, I think something's out here with us and I don't like
it. Let's just act normal, well as normal as we can, and get to the lift fast. Can you take the box while I
take Suraj? It's not very heavy. It's probably just my imagination, but humor me, okay?"
"Sure, give it here," Arihana took the box, and tucked it under her arm. "I'm doing a lot of humouring,
Boston. I know for a fact that I'm not that funny. Or not screw loose funny as opposed to ha ha funny."
He handed her the box and said, "Suraj, let's play a game. How about a piggy-back ride?"
"Yeah, go on then," Suraj stepped forwards, ever the willing cargo.
He hoisted Suraj up onto his back and trotted off down the hall making sure he stayed with Arihana.
"So what do you two want for breakfast tomorrow?" he asked. "Pancakes? I used to work in a
restaurant and picked up a few tips on cooking. It was my day job while I sang in forgotten bars and
clubs."
"Never mind a rockstar," Arihana commented, "I'm dating Gordon Ramsey. Lovely."
He kept having that feeling .... "Do you like music Suraj?" he asked.
Suraj nodded, "Most sorts, yeah," he replied.
"I never asked your mother if she did," Boston said feeling silly. "I hope you both like it a little loud."
"Oh, she does," Arihana said, following. "I can deal with a bit of loudness."
"Then you're dating the right guy," Boston agareed.
"You'll have to get a set list sorted, what songs and stuff," said Arihana as they wove around the
corridors. "Can imagin it will be failry well packed out."
"Should be no problem," Boston said. "I'll just adjust one of my older concerts and add a few new
songs. I just can't decide on my costume."
"Even I got a costume," grinned Suraj. "I'm coming as The Milky Bar kid."
"What's that look like?" Boston asked.
"It's scary," said Arihana. "He looks awfully grown up."
"Ah," he said. "I was thinking of Henry VIII. I keep changing my mind."
"We shall have to see then," smiled Arihana.
"Here's the lift," he said. Not adding "praise the Lord" but thinking it.
"C'mon, then lads," Arihana bundled Suraj in.
"In we go," Boston said, thankful when the doors closed. "Now we'll get some ice cream and relax.
Concert is over for the day."
"Good thinking, Batman," Suraj exclaimed, ready to unlease the eventual sugar rush.
=^= Security =^=
Baxter Mattingly issued orders in a crisp business-like manner that sent security crews out and about
at a high rate of speed.
"And those of you with families, get them to a communal area first," he said, "then report in for duty.
Vega, let me know if anything turns up. I'm getting Yus and the tamars to a safe area."
Baxter hurried off to get his pregnant wife and Nameless and MacDougal to the nearest communal
area. They soon arrived with a variety of items to ensure her comfort, as well as tamar food. The baby
was due any day now and Baxter was getting worried that she/he'd be born in the same manner they'd
been married - disaster!
Meanwhile in other parts of BoB equally frantic action was taking place.
Jyan Chera had just finished frosting a cake, when a security officer knocked on his door with a heavy
hand. The man waited impatiently while Jyan gathered up his neccessities of life and then put the cake
in a carrier case. He could share it with the other refugees. It was his one good and generous thought
of the entire episode.
"All right," he grumbled. "Let's go. You're acting as if I'm under arrest."
Hank Belmont had been in his new office when the announcement was made. In his usual manner, he
hurried out to make sure his mother and her new family were safe and helped a number of other
people in the process. He completely forgot to get his own things, although somehow he ended up
with a toothbrush.
K'Ral, practical Klingon that he was, armed himself with all his weaponry, gathered minimal survival
items and as much lighting as he could manage to find. He was glad that his fiancee' wasn't on the base
just now. He would have worried. A worried Klingon was dangerous. He stamped out, daring the
darkness to come near him. All he found was Keiko Oliverez coming to make sure he was safe. The two
went on to the communal area together, along with the rest of her party.
Boston Zaire and his bodyguards did the best in their move. The bodyguards gathered up some rather
elaborate necessities for the star who seemed to have his mind elsewhere.
"I knew there was something out there," he said. "I just knew it. I hope she's all right."
"Check," one of the bodyguards said.
"I can't do that," he said. "She'd know I was checking on her, for Pete's sake."
In no time at all, the trio had established themselves in a corner of the communal area and were
distributing items to those who hadn't brought the right things. Boston kept his eyes open for Suraj
and his mother.
The owner of the new Vulcan restaurant closed the store and being practical without flaw, the brother
had packed all items available for their comfort and safety. His sister was out somewhere with the
doctor. He could only assume she'd arrive safely. It was logical that the doctor would not leave her
somewhere. He had two of everything.T'Sar could only guess what they were up to. He did not share
her fascination for the human doctor.
And what L'Mer was doing is another story ...
=/\= SB BoB Zaire residence =/\=
Suraj was off and out. Something do with a school production of Julius Caesar that mean rehearsals
after school. That left Arihana at a loose end. She had navigated towards the posher end of the habitat
ring. Arriving at the door, she rapped it in a musical fashion and waited. Arihana was no longer on duty,
so fared better in not being in uniform this time around. The evening was her own.
The door slid open to reveal a Boston in tight jeans and a workshirt that looked like he'd just come in
from his farm chorse.
"Well, well, well," he said, eyeing her up and down casually.
"Hello, you," she smiled to say once the doors had been met.
"Where's my favorite kid?" he asked looking down and around.
"Kid has an appointment with ancient Rome," replied Arihana. "Just me, or would you rather it
wasn't?"there was an eyebrow arched as she draped her arms around his neck.
"You'll do just fine," Boston said stepping back and letting her inside. "Suraj is great, but it's also great
to have you alone. My bodyguards are off tonight, taking in a meal at the Vulcan restaurant. What's
up?"
"Boston, I actually have half a plan," she started, "If you don't object to me, say, hijacking your
evening."
"I was just composing," he said, "and I could use a break. I'm all yours. Hijack away."
"Music to my ears, "she smiled. "Now, you've met me the officer and a counsellor. You've met me the
mummy. I daresay, you'd like to meet me, the posh bird."
"Posh you say?" he asked curiously.
"You have half an hour, I'l be back, by which time," Arihana smiled with that little bit more
irksomeness. "I would rather like you, to be suited, booted, shaved and smelling lovely."
"I can clean up nicely," Boston joked. "What are you really up to?"
"As I said, I got half a plan, you got half a hour," she winked, before peeling away.
Boston watched her hurry off and realized he'd better get a move on it too. He shaved, showered,
shaved again, just in case. Since she was talking posh, he went right to the finest: tailormade black
tuxedo, silk tie, crisp white shirt and shiny black shoes. His socks matched his tie. He smiled at the
mirror and knew he'd break a hundred groupie hearts if he was on stage. However, he only wanted to
please one person tonight.
She must have sprinted, Taken the short cut, through the periphery and three lefts down the bottom
where she resided. There were three paper shopping bags that sat on her cofee table. One containing
a pair of rather sleek and delightfully killer heels that were not made for walking.
Arihana had given Boston half an hour, that gave her fifteen minutes. The first large box was opened,
to a flurry of pink crepe paper that flounced and rustled. Out of which came a long green chiffon and
raw silk dress with the narrowest of spaghetti thin straps, that swirled with water colour greens and
puces. There was a glittering of golden silken threads ands about three and a half grands worths of
swarovski chrystals.
That was easy enough. There was even a technique of getting into it. She'd worry about getting out
later.
The second bag was black. Out of which came a midnight blue velveteen box. Freshly manicured
fingers prised open the box. A pair of emerald droplet earring, festooned with square cut diamonds.
They would make her ears bleed in the morning. Then there was the piece de resistance. A replica of
the Queen Mary's choker as worn by the late Princess of Wales, circa Nineteen eighty something.
That sorted.
Then there was the shoes. A pencil heel that made her four inches taller, gold and lined with a plush
green beize. She carried those under her arms as she walked down towards Boston. She didn't plant to
wear them til later.
Boston looked at the clock. Any time now.
Arihana rapped on the door, excitedly.
"Who's there?" he called.
"Hello, you decent?" She asked, coming in anyway. "Hold there, a minute. "She dropped the shoes,
using Boston as a scaffold, and slid her feet in. "Come on then."
"Wait a minute," he said. "This is my cue to say how beautiful you look, and Arihana, you are gorgeous.
You make my mouth water like it does when I smell fresh baked bread or a million pounds. Where are
we off to?"
"We're going to Hollidays. The casino with suites for those with more money than sense."
"Have we got more money than sense?" he asked.
"No one said I had any sense, hun," replied Arihana.
Boston offered his arm. She'd need it in those shoes, but oh how they showed off her legs.
"I've never seen ankles that cute before," he said softly. "But you are right, I personally have more
money than sense. Let's spend it."
They arrived at Hollidays in no time at all. During the walk, Boston only had eyes for her. A naked
woman could have run past yelling "fire" and he'd never have noticed.
"Can we have a bottle of Merlot, please," Arihana smiled as they stood at the bar.
"Vintage, madam?" asked the starched looking chap behind the bar, handing her a equally stiff wine
list.
Opening it, Arhiana put her thumb across the prices. "The seventy two, and forget the Merlot. We'll
have the Burgundy."
"Of course, madam. I shall bring it over," smiled the waiter, looking at a healthy pay day.
Arihana smiled in return, knowing full well that the burgundy cost as much as family car. A very new
family car. "Chips..." she said through gritted teeth.
Boston looked at her. "I'm buying, right?" he asked.
Arihana shook her head, "No, I did. My son don't need his inheritance anytime soon. Feminism didn't
completely pass me by," she replied stoically.
He let Arihana take the trial sip of the wine and then leaned back, enjoying his own glass.
"You have excellent taste, Counsellor," he said. "Have you kidnapped many men before?"
"That would be telling, hun," Arihana savoured the deep berry of the burgundy
=/\= SB BoB Holidays casino =/\=
Arihana wore a fixed expression, eyeing her opponent as though she was eying a chocolate sundae.
She had said little to Boston for the last half an hour. She smiled, through the waft of white smoke that
wafted from the tip of the half a cuban that she had pursed at her lips. Arihana was actually a none
smoker, and had clearly lost her senses at first glance. Or not entirely, as she may have wanted the
opposition to believe.
An orange ember flickered from the cuban as it was delicately removed and squished into an ashtray.
Just as delicately, Arihana took the cards from her one hand and laid them flat on the table. Slowly, so
that the flush could appreciated. Once upon a time, Dhillon had taught her something worth knowing.
"That house in Macau?" Arihana asked. "Room for a pool?"
Slowly, she rose from her seat, and placed her hands around the fluted glass of burgundy. Arihana
swirled it around her palate and gums as though it was mouth wash, before letting it slide down her
gullet. "I'd like the deeds by tommorow tea time," she spoke it softely, since this was outside the house
stake. Then she glided away.
"How did you do that?" Boston asked. "I'm impressed, lady. Very impressed. Now what do we do?
Massage by a Japanese duo, a night in an expensive suite?"
"Back to yours, Boston?" Arihana snipped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "I did try and
and get the Royale, but I do have some sense. That and there's a list. Turns out I'm not shiny enough."
He laughed. "You put on quite an evening," he said. "I feel pampered and entertained and something
else ..." He moved toward her to kiss anything he could reach.
"Kiss me later," grimaced Arihana. "Let the champers settle, it's that, or a mouthful of cuban." She
added, linking her arm around his.
"I'll wait," he said. "I'm not one for smoke-breath. It's bad for your health or so they tell me."
Actually it reminded him of all those dumps he'd performed in - the ones where you couldn't breathe
and the ones where they looked the other way from the non-smoking laws.
They wandered back through the darkish halls toward his quarters.
"You've seen me home," he said. "I want to thank you for a fun evening."
"ooh, sounds like it could be interesting," Arihana couldn't help but grin.
He presented his cheek for a kiss. "Would you like to come in? My people will be asleep?"
"Ah, well, I dunno," she paused to twirl a lock of hair.
"You better come in," he said dropping his school boy act. He grabbed her waist and moved into the
suite with her. This time he didn't care about smoke on the breath. His lips found her and decided to
stay awhile.
"As nice as that was," Arihana pulled a face, as the burgandy and cuban mixed.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Like a toothbrush."
"Good plan," she nodded. "If only for your sake. Eugh, not nice," Arihana waited, before deciding that
she needed a drink of water or something.
"I offer water," he said. He got a large glass and handed her it and the toothbrush, which he'd gotten
from a nearby closet drawer.
"Thanking you kindly, bathroom?" she asked, waving the toothbrush.
He motioned to the left.
"Two seconds then," Arihana departed momentarily. Or rather the three minutes prescribed by the
dental foundation.
Boston took off his jacket and sat down. It had been a fantastic date. Arihana was attracting his
attention like an off-key guitar.
She had never brushed that hard in her life, and frantically at that too. What exactly was she in a rush
to attend to? Or was that a stupid question. She returned back to Boston having deposited the
toothbrush.
"okay, now you can kiss me, and to your heart's content," Arihana sighed, before looping her hands
behind her back. "Thank me in whatever way you see fit, my dear."
He pulled her onto the couch and on top of him. His lips found hers and his hands found everything
else. It was a while before he said, "Bedroom?"
"How about the library?" Arihana was feeling somewhat precarious.
"Suraj will be coming home when?" he asked.
"About three hours ago, Avril picked him up," Arihana replied sliding away, to pull him up by the hand.
"I do thank you for the evening," Boston said huskily. "I can't remember when I've had such a good
time on a date."
"Oh, it's about to get better," she said, moving quickly, as the shoes were now well kicked off. "Where
was that library, boston?" she pulled his arm to have him in front.
"Here," he joked, but then pointed. "Two doors down. Charming place. Big leather sofa, lots of books, a
large desk. Follow me."
He took her hand and led the way to the library.
"This, Boston, is for all the stupid Librarians who declared SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY!" she shrilled,
prssing her hands to his shoulders as the doors opened. As they arrived inthe conclave of books,
Arihana entered a command over ride into the entry panel, she didn't want to be disturbed.
"Where do you want to settle?" he asked, kissing her neck.
"Try Geography, sweetheart," Arihana clasped her hands around his waist, her fingers were slowly
untucking the shirt. "May be the only way we can get the earth to move."
"Oh, I think the earth will move even if we're in the classics," he added.
=/\= SB BoB Zaire Abode =/\=
"Shush, silence in the library," Arihana whispered to poke a finger into a shoulder, before bursting into
a fit of giggles. She was sat in Bostons' lap, and rubbing her head as an atlas of the world had bounced
off its shelf and clipped her.
Boston was immediately concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked, adding his hand to her head and feeling
for bumps.
"It's fine, I don't think I actually felt it," she replied, smiling still, before meeting her lips to him. "I do
like being reckless. Rather fun. Been a long time coming, thank you."
Boston grinned. "I do love a good book," he said. "I just never realized what uses one could put them
to."
"I don't think I will ever look at a library in the same way again," Arihana sighed slowly, to move
forwards and plant the side of her head onto Bostons' chest. She could hear his heart beat, it was
certainly not arrested.
"They're all antiques, of course," he said. "Although I did hear that some enterprising firm is going back
to printing books on paper again. They're becoming the rage. Care to try for a direct hit from the
dictionary?"
"Later," she looked up to smile. Arihana was enjoying this more than she had anticipated.
He ran a hand along her arm, tenderly. "You make me forget all the bad things that have ever
happened to me," he said. "I hope I have something of the same affect on you."
"Something like that," Arihana was being honest. There were a lot of dark memories being nailed into a
coffin in the recesses of her mind.
"I've decided to stay here for a bit," he said. "After my holiday, I'm supposed to be composing some
new songs for next year's tour. I've decided to do that here, instead of heading somewhere else."
"Oh, right." Arihana shuffled a moment, moving out of the lap that she didn't want to be in for the
moment. Something had got to her, and her mood had dive bombed.
"You have everything to do with that decision," he said. "Also, I like Disney movies."
"Yes, true as that may be, Boston," she said, sitting next to him and playing with her dress. "This is not
all about Disney movies."
Boston looked at her more closely and said, "This darkness thing .... you'll let me know won't you if ...
well ... I know you're a capable officer and you have a bat, but I'd like to do the caveman thing and
protect you. You'd humor me sometime, right? If things got bad?"
Arihana gave a mufffled scoff. "I'll see. But going back to the tour thing."
"You don't like the fact that I'm thinking of staying here longer than I originally planned," he stated as
fact. "I noticed the cold shoulder that developed when I said that."
She turned to face him, and put his face in her hands. "I'd much rather you went. I know it sounds
awful, especially as we sit here nestled in the classics, having just...Boston. Don't stay for me. Some
poor fool already did that, and it didn't end well."
"I'm not that fool," Boston said. "I have to travel. It's part of my job. What I can do is write here or
anywhere, but I do have a tour in a few weeks. Are you trying to get rid of me?"
Arihana chuckled. "No, this is not a dumping speech. No, it's not," she declared, wrapping her hands
around his arm. "This is a...live your life, let me live mine, and I'll still be here when you're done,
speech."
"You better be," he said. "I'd hate to think of my going off and coming back to find you in some heartthrob marine's arms or some muscular security officer's sex palace. Are you sure you want me to go?"
"Remember, how I said I'm not going to make demands of you," Arihana was half pouting. "I lied. I'm
fickle. This is my demand. Do not become beholden to me, or attached. You are your own man. Not
mine, nor anyone elses. You cannot live your life because of Disney movies, Boston."
"I like how Disney movies turn out," Boston said. "The couple lives happily ever after. Look, Arihana,"
he continued, "I'm enjoying myself. I'm having a good time and I haven't had that in a long, long time. I
just wanted to extend it a little further. I know I have to leave. You can't blame me for putting it off a
few days more. And I won't feel guilty about it. I like being with you. I know you know I have to go on
concert tours. You know I know you're assigned to duty here. That means we'll be apart more than
we're together as things stand. We've got a lot of things to learn about each other and it's going to be
hard to do that apart. So sue me," he added with a smile.
Arihana stood up, tugging Boston to also stand. "Look, you're all a bit sparkly," she commented,
dusting of the glitter that had transferred in their tryst. "Now, listen," she started, taking his hands into
hers. "Meet your band, have your concert. See out the end of your holiday. Then go write, do your
tour. It's your job, Archangel."
"Yes Ma'am," he said. "But .."
"I'm not going to argue," she said, rising onto her tip toes. "If I mean anything," Arihana whispered.
"You'll do this for yourself. Never mind me. I can wait."
"That's what they all say and then you get the dear John letter," Boston said. "It's a history thing and
we're in the classics." He leaned closer and kissed her. "You do mean something and I'll take your
advice," he added. "Just as long as you remember I'm not going to be taking any of those groupies
home at night. You got it?"
"We'll see," she couldn't help but scoff. "I daresay you'll be sorely tempted."
"It'll look like it," he said. "Wait until you see the publicity one of my concert tours gets."
"Ye-es, that," she was going to pull a face, but stopped. "I'm not going to apologise for turning green."
"And the gossip news," he added. "That'll fly like a Klingon attack force."
Arihana simply rolled her eyes, and peeled away.
"Maybe sometime you'll be able to tell me why you pull back sometimes," he added, more seriously.
"When you're ready ..."
"Yes, when I'm ready," Arihana said clearing her throat. "I should go, perhaps check out the communal
areas."
"Be careful," he said.
"Good night, Boston," She wandered over towards the door, and released the code.
"Good night, Ariahana and tell Suraj to sleep tight," he added, but he waited and watched until he
couldn't see her any longer.
=/\= SB BoB Hollidays
Casinos were like a giant tube of sweeties. You had to try everything, and anything, at least once. It
would have been easy to use Bsoton as lucky mascot. But Arihana was deciding against the whole
romantic favours thing as she rolled dice in her hands at the table.
"Now, le'ts see where lady luck is tonight," she said, passing the dice around in her palms before
scattering them out, and waiting with baited breath.
"What's your bet?" Boston asked.
"Am starting small, my lovely," replied Arihana, scooping her modest stake plus the small extra
towards her. "Got all the time in the world for high rollers. Good things, Boston, come to those who
wait."
"I believe that myself," he said with a wink.
"I'll have the ten black, and seven red, please," Arihana pushed some chips before her, she looked
carefully at the table host. She really didn't want the house to win, and this wasn't Vegas.
"Uh," Boston said as the numbers came up short.
"Ah, well, easy come, easy go," she shrugged. "Seven red came into though," there was a careful nod
again to the host. "Nine black, six red."
"Do you have a system?" he asked.
"There are some stupid odds,and I'm rubbish with numbers," Arihana told Boston. "I can however
count to ten, and do the maths that way. It's not good logic, but what's fun when you can never fail."
"You did it," Boston said happily. "I'll have to take you to more casinos. Win some, lose some."
This time, both the black and the red came romping home. "I do like though, when one succeeds," she
grinned like a cheshire cat, before kissing Bostons' cheek. Arihana flicked a hand full of chips, and since
she had no purse or pockets, secreted them into any pockets that Boston may have had.
-= Security Office =Alicia sat with Officer Stevens as they waited. She felt like evertything was spinning as she moved
through the reports she was getting.. Everyone for the most part was getting rounded up safely. She
had three man teams roaming the areas and getting all the stragglers out of bed. She was not in the
best of moods as well with the absence of light and comfort.
She had been talking with the officer when she realized that someone, or something, was next to her.
She looked and only saw darkness. Thinking that everything was just getting to her she got up and
smiled. "Let's go down and check on the brig. We haven't gotten reports from there yet."
"Sure thing ma'am." He said, grabbing his phaser from the desk.
They walked down into the moderate darkness. Officer Stevens and Lt Vega quickly felt the need to get
down to the brig. Just to see what was going on. As they were walking they heard a young girl
screaming.. Both quickly drew their phasers and ran.. The screaming was coming from the dark
corridor and she was extremely worried. As they ran towards the screaming the girl ran into them. She
was quickly grabbed and placed into the arms of Officer Stevens and Vega looked down the hall.
Then she heard laughing. She waited and saw two little boys running towards her. "And halt.. What in
the world do you think you are doing!"
They quickly stopped and stammered over their words. She'd dealt with them before. Two little
trouble makers that usually knew when it was time to call it quits. Today was that day. "Off to the brig
you go."
"Lieutenant, you think that's a good option?"
"It's on the way. Why not?" She said, and grabbed both of them. "Off we go now." She said, wondering
if there was anything saying she couldn't lock them up.
"But we..." They started to protest.
"But nothing.. Scaring pretty little girls is not the way we do things when the captain gives an order to
be somewhere." She said, as they approached the inside of the brig. The three security officers smiled
at her, and then wondered why she had three children with her.
"Put these two in for a while, until we get some lights back on." She said. After they were placed in she
talked to the Brig Chief. "Let em out in about an hour, have someone escort them to the staging area."
"Sure thing ma'am."
"Thanks." she said as she departed and left the brig. It was sure to be another long dark day."
-= Security Office =Alicia sat with Officer Stevens as they waited. She felt like evertything was spinning as she moved
through the reports she was getting.. Everyone for the most part was getting rounded up safely. She
had three man teams roaming the areas and getting all the stragglers out of bed. She was not in the
best of moods as well with the absence of light and comfort.
She had been talking with the officer when she realized that someone, or something, was next to her.
She looked and only saw darkness. Thinking that everything was just getting to her she got up and
smiled. "Let's go down and check on the brig. We haven't gotten reports from there yet."
"Sure thing ma'am." He said, grabbing his phaser from the desk.
They walked down into the moderate darkness. Officer Stevens and Lt Vega quickly felt the need to get
down to the brig. Just to see what was going on. As they were walking they heard a young girl
screaming.. Both quickly drew their phasers and ran.. The screaming was coming from the dark
corridor and she was extremely worried. As they ran towards the screaming the girl ran into them. She
was quickly grabbed and placed into the arms of Officer Stevens and Vega looked down the hall.
Then she heard laughing. She waited and saw two little boys running towards her. "And halt.. What in
the world do you think you are doing!"
They quickly stopped and stammered over their words. She'd dealt with them before. Two little
trouble makers that usually knew when it was time to call it quits. Today was that day. "Off to the brig
you go."
"Lieutenant, you think that's a good option?"
"It's on the way. Why not?" She said, and grabbed both of them. "Off we go now." She said, wondering
if there was anything saying she couldn't lock them up.
"But we..." They started to protest.
"But nothing.. Scaring pretty little girls is not the way we do things when the captain gives an order to
be somewhere." She said, as they approached the inside of the brig. The three security officers smiled
at her, and then wondered why she had three children with her.
"Put these two in for a while, until we get some lights back on." She said. After they were placed in she
talked to the Brig Chief. "Let em out in about an hour, have someone escort them to the staging area."
"Sure thing ma'am."
"Thanks." she said as she departed and left the brig. It was sure to be another long dark day."
30 Years Ago...Stardate 238317 - USS Nimitz
"SHIELDS!" Captain Renalds hollered to anyone that could get to the burning OPS station or Tactical as
the ship's inertial dampeners failed while the warship collapsed down into normal space after a failed
attempt to utilize a new form of transwarp drive.
"Shields offline sir, main power's offline as well and no one in engineering is responding!" Came a
barely controlled reply, followed by some coughing, from somewhere to the left of the central chair; it
was hard to see from who though by all the smoke, but it was probably ensign Delaney.
The ship suddenly lurched in an uncontrolled slowly accelerating spin as it hadn't regained attitude
control since dropping to normal space. With the inertial dampener system failing the feel of gravity
was growing exponentially, but worse it meant that the ship had become caught in something's
gravitational field.
Whether it was a star, planet, moon, or rogue asteroid the outcome was all dire.
As if things weren't bad enough...
It was supposed to be a true and tested system; it was supposed to have worked flawlessly, or so the
warp physics R&D people had stated during the refit. It was supposed to be the true next generation
leap in warp theory finally realized, but like so many prior failed promises it too failed.
The USS Nimitz was a Prometheus class warship and one of the most powerful combat vessels to grace
the ranks of the fleet, but for all her vaunted power she was a dead hulk of partially twisted deranium
ceramtech composite flying through space with no power of her own to call. Of the 231 crew only a
small fraction survived sub-space distortion wave that had erupted from the modified warp engines.
Armor plating and other various components once sturdy and without a doubt the finest crafted by
starfleet engineers had been altered in a second on the molecular level, which caused those same vital
components to collapse under the various strains.
What it did to the crew was unmentionable, but lucky for them they didn't live long enough to
experience it.
Sometimes they say that surviving is the hard part...
And the people that speak that expression are right...
Cause only a survivor can know...
Across the ship, where power was still present, and where the communications system still functioned,
the order to abandon ship came from the captain, but he couldn't know that it was a death sentence to
the majority of those that ran for the escape modules.
It was already too late as the ship plummeted further into the gravitational well of the rogue moon.
From an observer's point of view there was a sudden flash of light in the sky followed by what seemed
like a silver bird slowly falling as it spun shedding its silver feathers. Flaming trails blossomed around
the magnificent bird as it's feathers burned like falling stars until the silver bird vanished under the
horizon, leaving a burning scar across the evening sky.
No one would ever know how much of it was luck or the sturdy construction of the vessel, or even its
basic shape; perhaps it was a combination of all those, for it is said by many space faring species that
those that soar the great oceans of space carry their own special brand of luck. Somehow the ship
came down, hard indeed, many that had survived the initial sub-space distortion perished in the frozen
reaches of the ice and snow, but a few survived, though many were separated by great distances in the
frozen tundra as the vessel broke apart. Even the smallest distance between parts that housed
survivors was hundreds of meters apart or even kilometers, and in the blinding cold of the ice it might
as well have been light years.
Pyyr'l, a Lt all those long years ago, not that the rank had held any particular meaning to her, had been
a survivor too, and like before there would be no happy memories to carry forward. Only pain and
much, too much, sorrow.
She awoke in the twisted remains of what had once been main medical on deck seven, just past frame
13D, but now it filled with snow and broken bodies of people she would later write were her friends.
Amber, the CMO, the one who had revived her and become infected with her nanotech, was held in
her small arms, which would have been a bizarre and laughable sight on any other occasion
considering how much taller the doctor was when compared to the ancient Va'loriate.
Around them shards of crystal from the protective chrysalis were strewn about that she had
instinctively formed around her and the doctor when the sub-space distortion occurred. It was a last
ditch effort to preserve a Va'loriate's life and this time had been no different than the last when the
USS Farragut had originally found her, but the combination of trying to protect another and the stress
of the crash had pushed even that beyond its limits and the councilor was far too weak and drained to
grow another.
Pyyr'l knew she could handle the exposure to the arctic temperatures for a while, but any survivors
would find themselves in hypothermia soon if they couldn't find shelter. She did her best salvaging
supplies that hadn't been damaged by either the crash or the distortion wave. She had used a modified
medical laser to super heat a piece of the ship's bulkhead to give the others warmth, but it's power
was short lived. By the next morning it was clear that there wasn't any immediate aid coming, it any
was at all, so leaving Amber, a woman who had become like a child to her, and the others, the
councilor had trekked through snow and ice.
She would go out every day and return with something, one day salvage from a damaged replicator
torn from a piece of a shuttle that had been tossed free. Another day she managed to recover several
EVA suits from a locker that she had found. Still another day she had found a power cell, which
provided them nothing but heat.
All in all twenty three days passed.
By day thirteen she had laid all the others to rest, sixteen souls in all, that is except for Amber. They say
that the worse thing for a telepath or empathic capable individual to experience is another's death.
Pyyr'l knew the answer; she knew it all too well.
She laid Amber to rest on day Twenty and another part of her soul withered away and died as well.
She had left their communicators on their bodies, standard operating procedure for body recovery, but
no one came. Time passed and the days grew into weeks, then months, then years. Every day she
would trek out to map her surroundings and hope against fate that others would have endured, but it
wasn't so. Guilt set in soon afterwards, survivors guilt some might say, and they were right. If she had
still possessed her telepathic abilities she could have connected to ever mind of every survivor after
the crash and who knows, maybe together they could have all survived. If...
So many ifs...
When the heart is broken and the soul is so utterly crushed what is it that drives a person, human or
otherwise, to continue fighting?
What's the point when you know that you will experience this again? When you know that everything
you will ever find to hold onto and cherish will one day become dust because you will never die?
No one could answer that question for her, if ever, and she wept time and time again.
Many times CEO of the Nimmitz had tried to get her to open up, tried to get her to show him how she
did the impossible time and time again, but she had refused saying that the children, her word for
them, weren't ready for such knowledge. For all her advanced technology, the one time she could have
used it to their benefit, perhaps even have saved them, she couldn't. She had failed because in the end
when stripped of her power and damaged in both mind and body, Pyyr'l was mortal.
And more so, afraid...forsaken...forgotten.
The Present...Stardate 240806.16 - Dilithium Freighter SS Martel
Ensign Pyyr'l awoke with a start from her revelry as she bathed under the concentrated light of solar
radiation vital to maintain her health. She had resting, some might say sleeping, but it wasn't the same
with her species. A change in the freighter's warp field had disturbed her and wrestled her from her
dreaming.
Her eyes were barely open as she sat up and looked to a space slightly to her right as a light blue semitransparent holographic screen materialized in front of her at eye level. She looked at the date and
sighed, just under six weeks till she arrived, then promptly pulled the single silk sheet over her form
and rested her head on the crystal that served as her pillow.
Moments later her tiara glowed softly as it absorbed the solar radiation and her body once again
settled into a restful state for another few days or whenever.
=^= communal area =^=
Boston Zaire, settled down into his corner on a mattress, leaned back against a pillow and tried to read
the book in his hand. It was a classic about boys on a raft in the river. From time to time, he glanced
up, trying to see through the moving people if Arihana had wandered in.
He knew what all of this was about - the darkness. He felt vindicated that he'd been right. There was
something there. He wouldn't have been a very good drug lord if he hadn't had some instincts.
Speaking of drug lord, if this got serious with the good consellor, he'd have to tell her. He wondered
what that would amount to, considering dealing with him as a rock star was bad enough.
Then his looking was rewarded. "Over here," he waved. "Is Suraj in here somewhere?"
"The kids are in school," replied Arihana, jostling her baseball bat over her shoulder. "They're actually
having a mini Olympics type thing, in this great big indoor astro pitch," she gesticulated wildly with her
hands. "Happens every time, when we have a crisis, kids do some sorta UN thing. That and rehearsels
for Julius Caesar."
Boston closed his book and said, "It sounds like fun. Everyone seems to consider this a picnic kinda
thing. BoB must have gone through some really bad times to think this is fun. I thought I'd just do some
reading."
"What you got, Huck Finn, or Tom Sawyer?" Asked Arihana tilting her head to look at the book. She
was now on duty proper, the dress had been ditched and uniform was back in the fray of things.
"Huck Finn," Boston said.
"Tried Huck Finn years ago, Mark Twain is an acquired taste," she commented. "How are you?" she
asked looking around. "Warm enough, got enough wooly blankets. I'm sorry the quality is rubbish,"
Arihana shrugged. "But there is a bit of a flap on, I couldn't get the egyptian cotton."
"Well," Boston said, his eye twinkling, "you know how I feel about Egyptian cotton. It's a must. I'll
probably break out in hives with anything less. I shall endeavor to endure."
"I had half figured, that I'd come over here, Boston," grinned Arihana, "and you'd be standing here with
a ukelele serenading the yokels."
Boston looked around. "No one's noticed me yet," he said. "I thought I'd stay quiet until some young
teen screamed my name. Then I thought I'd do some singing, perhaps see if anyone would like to try a
talent show."
"What ever floats your boat, hun," she nodded, patting a shoulder. "As long as I don't have to pay you
an entertainment stipend."
"Oh, I never work for free," Boston said. "I'd need some kind of payment from you, but it wouldn't
have to be monetary ..."
"Payment in kind, my left foot," Arihana gave Boston an elbow. "Whatcha take me for? Not that kind of
girl, not during the week anyway," she added with a grin.
He winked at her. "Your uniform is sexy," he whispered.
"hmm, lovely," Arihana smiled, but shook her head. "It's staying where it is, so don't even think about
it."
"I might burst into song," he said.
"Really, off you go then," she edged away slowly, as she was probably meant to be doing something
proper.
And then he did. Boston, out of his own Archangel uniform, started singing a popular song written and
produced by his biggest competition. The song had a quick, fast beat, but was in itself romantic. He
didn't pay much attention to what was going on in the large room until he heard a scream from
somewhere in the back. The entire place had gone quiet. He finished and looked a little sheepish as the
applause died down.
"I didn't mean to attract an entire room," he said.
"No, course not," drolled the counsellor. "I believe you, thousands...."Arihana looked around. "So much
for your cover.I'm going before you get mobbed, and make my job difficult."
"Chicken," he said.
"Behave Boston," Arihana said rather seriously. "You cause a riot, and Baxter, he'll have you for
disturbing the peace. Then there is Her in Charge. She'll have my guts for letting you loose and sending
girls into hormonal frenzy."
"Call it a concert preview," he said. "I'll behave though." He gave her a beguiling smile.
"I'd kiss you, but I'm on the clock," she rolled up her sleeves as she was going to set up a soup kitchen.
"Duty calls and call," he said, a little disappointed, but they were being watched now.
"Well, duty is one thing, but I really don't want the jungle drums in action. Not yet," Arihana shrugged.
"Kiss of death, i'm telling you. Few people know about you and me, the better."
"But what about lonely little me?" he asked.
Arihana rolled her eyes. "Oh, get over yourself, Zaire. Crying out loud. Anythng for a quiet life, and you
are on holiday, hun."
"Right, I forgot," he added. "Shall I not sing or shall I start a sing-along?"
"By all means, sing and serenade," said the counsellor. "I'll pop by later."
"Let me know if I can help," he said.
"I will do, certainly," Arihana said smiling. "Tatty bye."
As she walked away, he started singing the words, "There goes my baby .." although the rest of it didn't
fit the situation. He had a rather wicked grin on his face.
Arihana turned around, pulling a childish face with her tongue poking out. Sometimes it was good to
be less up tight.Kept her sane.
=/\= KnightMare - Several Hours out of BoB =/\=
Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored...
Quide sat at the helm, flying a steady course, his eyes glazing over from the tediousness of extended
transport duty - and he still had days of it left. He had been right about the marines in that they had no
desire to socialize, and his system was painfully deprived of the nourishing holy nectar that was
alcohol. All he had was his music, which kept him from activating the self destruct, but didn't do much
else. If only one of the Nomads would come up to complain about the sound, he'd gladly waive his
earlier vow to throw them out the airlock, but they wouldn't - his taste in music was just too good.
So, he tried to keep his mind occupied. After the first hour when the initial excitement of an extended
flight had worn off, he couldn't help but think of a certain someone he knew that did this sort of
monotonous flying for a living. Jinti hadn't seemed to mind though, in fact she appeared to genuinely
enjoy her job, while still reveling in the thrill of a quick and dirty dogfight. Maybe there was a way of
looking at this that he wasn't aware of. He'd have to pay even closer attention to her when he got the
chance. The idea wasn't at all unpleasant.
After running through the dinner scenario several dozen times and planning out every move and
everything he'd say to give the absolute best impression, then chucking it all, his mind wandered to the
other woman who had called him right before he left. Kisla Illa - Sloth to her fellow pilots, but Grits to
him.
=/\= SB Fortitude - Nine Years Ago =/\=
The Happenstance - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q85rPq1u9sc&feature=related
Bright eyed and grinning, young Ensign Quide electric slid into The Happenstance, the busiest bar on
the base, wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that informed the reader that 'It's all fun
and games until the flying monkeys attack.' He had just reported in to both his new captain, and his
flight commander, after just arriving on this, his first posting ever a few hours previous. He had a few
hours to kill before his first shift started, and he thought he'd continue the day right by making a
couple of friends. After all, no one was more friendly than a friendly drunk. Of course, he only knew
that through observation, since he never touched the stuff himself.
Sitting himself down at the bar, he ordered a tall glass of root beer, much to the amusement of both
patrons and bar staff, and spun around on his stool to take in the crowd. There seemed to be a couple
of rowdy drunks at the far end of the bar, but everyone else seemed to be having a great time,
especially a purple skinned woman in the center of the dance floor. She had an odd way of dancing the motions she went through fit the pace of the rock song being played well enough, but she was
making them so slowly that it didn't even remotely fit the beat.
He turned back to the bar and looked over at the guy sitting next to him. "Ey, y'stationed 'ere?"
The man, a rosy-cheeked and cheerful looking lush shook his head in an exaggerated motion, sending
his dirty blond ponytail flailing back and forth, nearly whipping Quide in the face. "Jus a merchint," the
man informed him, his breath probably flammable at this point. "Jus stup her now'n thin."
"Ah, I see," Quide said, his face wrinkling up under the pungent response. "So what can y'tell me about
this place?"
"Gud busniss. Gud beer," the man said before promptly letting his face fall to the bar and having
himself a little snooze."
"Thanks for all y'elp," Quide said with a chuckle and a head shake. Drunks would never cease to amuse
him. Who would do that to themselves?
Spinning around to face the rest of the bar again, his eyes immediately fell once again on the purpleskinned woman who was now simply standing the middle of the dance floor, engaged in a heated
conversation with the couple of rowdy drunks he had noticed earlier - well, they were in a heated
conversation, but she seemed more tired than anything. Everyone else was giving them I wide berth,
but he wasn't one to skirt trouble like that. Setting down his root beer, he jumped off the stool and
headed straight out onto the floor.
"Ello there gents," he said as he walked up to them. "Security Officer Lieutenant Quide, at y'service, is
there a problem 'ere?"
He had hoped the presence of a security officer might defuse any aggression, and banked on a
lieutenant causing more intimidation than an ensign. Both of those might have been safe assumptions,
had there been anyone remotely resembling a security lieutenant in the immediate vicinity. As it was,
both men turned their angry attentions on Quide, and the woman gave him the definitive 'Who the
hell are you?' look.
"Get lost kid, before your jokes get you into trouble," one of the men, who both looked much larger up
close, said in a voice shaped by hard alcohol and cigarettes, emanating from a face that seemed to be
shaped with a baseball bat. It wasn't an observation Quide chose to share.
"Come on 'ere," Quide said chipperly, gesturing around him. "Everyone is 'aving fun except for y'lot.
Why don't I buy y'all a drink and we can get back to enjoying ourselves. 'Ow does root beer sound."
"Awful," the purple skinned woman said evenly, her eyes seeming to lose interest in the question of
the newly arrived kid and turning to warily watch the pair of goons.
"Youse hoid her," the other man said as he grabbed the woman roughly by the arm and yanked her
forward as he turned to walk away, an act she looked none too pleased about. "Scram."
Jumping forward, Quide punched the man square in the jaw, causing him to release the woman and
stumble back, more out of surprise than the actual force of the blow. A white flash quickly flushed over
the ensign's vision as he was struck from the side by the other man and floored instantly.
The purple skinned woman sighed and jumped into action - figuratively speaking. Her hand shot out relative to her normally slow pace, anyway, as it was actually a rather casual motion otherwise - her
fingers roughly jabbing into the neck of the man nearest Quide, causing him to fall to the ground,
gasping for breath. Then she turned on the other man, who had since collected himself, and poked one
shoulder, then the other. The man erupted into panicked cries as he realized he could no longer move
his arms. They were silenced when the woman did something that seemed extremely uncharacteristic
and simply drew back and socked him square in the nose, knocking him out cold.
Then the woman followed both of the men in falling to the ground, her breath heavy and her arm
hanging limp at her side. Quide, having since recovered from the blow, and the surprise of the
outcome of the skirmish, got up and rushed to her. "What's wrong? I didn't see them 'it ya."
The woman simply looked at him, seeming to be on the verge of falling asleep more than anything else.
"Call medics," she said giving a weak gesture toward the fallen men.
"Right," Quide said with a firm nod. "And for y'as well,"
She made a motion that could have possibly been a shake of her head, but it was hard to tell. "My
quarters."
For the first time, Quide noticed that thoughts popped into his head every time the woman spoke, as if
sleeping ideas were woken up by her words. He realized somehow that what she wanted as him to
take her to her quarters. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't help think that he was doing well to
get invited to a woman's quarters on the first day of his first assignment.
"Don't worry, I won't try anything," he said jokingly as he started to turn to head to the nearest comm
console.
"Know better," she mumbled, a single finger gesturing again to the fallen men.
"I'll say I do," Quide agreed with a firm nod.
=/\= KnightMare - A few minutes away from its last location, back in the present =/\=
Looking back on it, it had been an awkward meeting for what would later become a close friendship.
He wouldn't have changed it, though, even though her little altercation with those goons had caused
her to miss several days of work as the Deputy Chief Flight Commander. And since, as the saying goes,
[stuff] rolls down hill, as her responsibilities were dolled out to the next in command, and their duties
were given to the ones below them, Quide, being the newest member of the Flight Deck, got stuck
with both his, and his immediate superior's work loads.
The one thing he did regret, though, is that Illa had never been able to teach him whatever form of
martial arts she used that day, causing him to get punched out many a time since.
=/\= USS Caledonia - Sickbay =/\=
Chess swung into sickbay with Zerin and Jinti following behind her like Avenging Interns. "Doctor
Conley.." she called out. "Are you available for a quick conference?"
Bree stopped pacing and looked up from the padd he had been focused on so intently since getting
back from the planet. His shoulders dropped as he sighed, "It's difficult to avoid a conference that
appears on your doorstep. Yes."
Using a biobed as a proxy conference table, Chess beckoned them around. "I'm getting a lot of
pressure from Admiral Bishops about this matter, so I need some news for him and fast. If you can give
me verbal reports at this stage it would be useful - at least I'll be able to keep him of my back for a few
days."
With a wave of the padd Bree said, "Verbal is fine. I should have the written one completed soon too,
assuming nobody else dies and messes up my timetable."
"The most difficult thing to get round is he complete and utter lack of motive," Chess mused.
"Normally, we could identify a motive which would point to the age-old principle of Qui Bono? - Who
benefits? But in this case, there just isn't any discernable motive I can see."
"Yeah.." Jinti was chewing on an unlit cheroot, her lighter in her hand that raised and then lowered
quickly every time Bree looked in her direction. "Cuz all the guys whut are there, they *wanna* be
there real bad, an' even if'n they didn't wanna be there, they could jist up an' leave any time they
wanted."
"That's right," Chess nodded. "And the planet has been privately owned for the best part of a century
so there's no ownership disputes. It's got no minerals of valuable ore deposits that anyone would
want. It's light-years away from any other civilisation, not on any main trade or travel routes, and being
ninety-five per cent water no use for general colonisation. If it *is* sabotage it's going to be hard to
find a reason for it."
"Maybe it's not a reasonable reason." suggested Bree with a frown, "If there's a Brotherhood of Po
who's to say there isn't another Brotherhood of Mo that disagrees theologically with living in a big
bubble?"
"Mm, I take your point," Chess mused. "Throughout history, one set of personal or spiritual beliefs
always seems to attract and opposite and - for some reason - aggressive reaction. And yet, this
Brotherhood neither preach, or recruit, or seek to influence anyone else in the galaxy. They simply
avoid contact, inconveniencing no-one. It's a stretch, but I agree we can't rule anything out at this
stage."
Jinti waved her cheroot, "Mebbe some other folks jist plain like spoilin' things fer the Po guys."
"It's possible. Some research is in order, I fancy. So, then, reports.." Chess looked between them.
"What have you discovered so far? And please feel free to give me any suggestions, thoughts or
speculations no matter how wild or unlikely you think they might be. Right now, I'm open to any and all
chains of enquiry."
Bree wrinkled his nose, "Based on the autopsy and test results I have determined that it was definitely
the introduction of foreign DNA that caused the death of Brother Fisar. What happened to him could
quite easily happen to every Monk there as well, depending on how long they've taken to the Bubble
lifestyle."
"What sort of reaction?" Chess looked keenly at him. "Medically, I mean?"
"That I'm not completely sure on." He folded his arms across his chest unhappily. "I wasn't there when
he died so I can't say for certain, but I'm going either for huge allergic reaction or an auto-immune
disease like Lupus triggered by the new DNA."
"Lupus?" Now Chess looked puzzled, having a sudden vision of Brother Fisar turning into a werewolf.
She knew that couldn't be right, though. "What's the difference between an allergy and Lupus?"
"An allergic reaction could be dealt with by adrenaline for the shock and then a bucketful of antihistamines. The body is just irritated by the foreign DNA and doesn't take too kindly to it unless we
adjust things. However if it was Lupus then they would need immunosuppression for some time to
stop their own immune system trying to take down every organ it comes across."
"And... did Brother Fisar show symptoms of that?" Chess was making her own notes. "Can you prove it,
if so?"
Bree scowled, "There wasn't a great deal of evidence of long term organ damage in Brother Fisar but
then the shock of the new DNA was so severe he did break his own jaw. There might not have been
time for obvious damage."
"Inconclusive, then," Chess sighed. "I think it would be good if you followed that line of theory, Doctor.
If it means more extensive tests then go for it." She turned to Zerin, "And how about the technical side
of things? How did that go?"
"I spent some time with Brother Hoix," Zerin explained. She held up an oil painting of a skyline. It
would've looked appropriate on a black velvet background, but Hoix used plain old ordinary canvases.
Jinti tilted her head sideways, "I guess it looks like whut it's supposed ta look like. It's cute, but how's
that help us?"
"He foisted--I mean, he gave this to me," Zerin said. "He's a nice, artistic sort of guy, but he's really,
really vague on security matters."
"I see," Chess nodded. "I suppose a certain amount of complacency must creep into their operations
down there. What else?"
"We took a tour of the outer perimeter. And of course, Brother Hoix pointed everything out. He was
obviously trying to show how orderly everything was. Of course, then we came upon an overturned
bush and soil that had been disturbed."
"So *something* must have got in," Chess looked pensive. "That would seem to almost completely rule
out sabotage from the inside. But who - or what - could have caused that disturbance?"
"We can rule out giant gophers, that's for sure. Like I said, Hoix is nice but vague. He really, really
couldn't be sure if they'd patrolled the whole perimeter of the whole biosphere and analyzed every
single inch to make sure there was no disturbance."
"Cool," Jinti grinned. "Ya got a clue there, Commander."
"Indeed," Chess thought for a second, "Unless there was inside help, of course. Who's job was it to
check?"
"Well, I'm waiting for Hoix to give me the names of whoever's been patrolling the area. We really
should question them to see if they found anything weird. Like overturned vegetation."
It would be a break from the soporific Hoix, that was for sure.
"Alright, Commander, that will be your next task," Chess tapped her Padd firmly. "See *when* they
weren't on duty, what they skimped on, and also see if this was a regular sloppiness or just a one-off.
And whilst you're at it - take soil samples from the ground there and examine it closely, give it the full
spectrum works. That might help identify what or who was rusting about there."
To Bree she said, "You'll need to perform further tests on the samples you took from the late Brother
Fisar. If you can find out *exactly* what caused the reaction that killed him, we might be a step nearer
to working out *who*. Go back for more samples if needs be. They won't deny us, I'm sure."
"I'z gonna git back out on patrol," Jinti chipped in. "One thing we noticed when we wuz out at noon,
they weren't all at Contemplation. Mebbe that don't mean anythin', mebbe it means sumthin' - I
dunno."
"They certainly *are* all supposed to attend," Chess looked thoughtful. "Yes, see if there are vacancies
again at midnight. I don't suppose you noticed how many places were empty?"
"Reckon it wuz two, I couldn't tell 'zacly, 'cos we had ta fly over quite quick so's we didn't disturb 'em
too much."
"Fair enough," Chess finished making her notes. "See what happens this evening - and if the same thing
occurs I'll question Brother Dulcian about it. Let's get moving, people. Dismissed."
She led the way out of Sickbay, heading back to her office. At least she'd have *something* for Admiral
Bishops to chew on now."
~*~*~*years away in the future, somewhere leafy ~*~*~*~*~
'It's my life, and it's now or never, it's my life!'
Arihana looked up. Her desk was shaking. The glass nestled in between padds and tomes vibrated with
the bass. The stylus was dropped down, with a slight irritation. Scraping her chair backwards, Arihana
got up. She stropped her way across the hearth and out of the door of her study. Her door was swung
open with forcefulness.
She waited at the foot of the stairs as the sound Bon Jovi abated, and the owner of the perilous sound
system cascaded down the stairs.
"Go back," Arihana told the young woman. A young woman dressed for a night out, in clothes that
made her look much older than her sixteen years and three months. "And change."
"No." Came the terse reply from the dainty mouth that engulfed with cherry lipgloss.
"Well, you see, this non-negotiable," her mother said leaning against the ballast at the end of the
stairs. "I can see your knickers, and where they were made. Hop it."
"Do I look like a frog?" came the pouty reply, as a lock of fuzzy chocolate hair was twirled.
Arihana sighed. "listen. I can spend day after day, telling the dastardly romulans that I will shoot them
out the sky, if they so much as sneeze at me. Teenage girls," Arihana shook her head. "Do it, or loose
the netball trip."
"Ha, you are so so unfair," huffed the teen. "You ruining my life, this is such an unjustice."
"Oh, tell it to the Navy, boverred?!" called her mother as the teenager stropped up the stairs.
"You don't do this to Suraj, he gets away with blue murder," came another shrill retort as the young
woman stopped and turned back around. "What Suraj wants, Suraj gets."
"Fer the love of jose," sighed her mother. "This is not a contest, what's he gotta do with this, he moved
out when he could. Just got get changed!" Fumed Arihana. "I'm not picking you up from the cop shop
again. And if you so much as *look* at absinthe this time, lady. Feck it, I aint paying for your stomach
to be pumped neither."
That did it. The young girl blanched, and her bottom lip quivered. So much so, it made her brown eyes
blue.
****
There was the sound of retching, and groaning, punctuated by whimpering.
"I'm sorry, I promise I won't do this again. Oh, it hurts," the stroppy voice was now child like again.
Pained and anquished. Bitterly apologestic.
"Oh, sweetie, what am I going to do with you?"The reassuring tones came from her mother, who was
sat behind her, holding her hair back from the vomit.
"Give me rules for a start," came the reply.
"You're hiliariously funny," tutted her mother. "You can do what you like, as long you learn from it, and
it don't bleeding kill you!" chuckled Arihana. "If I tell you not to do something, what do you do?"
"Do it," replied the slowly sobering up teen.
"I rest my case, darling, I can't win." Shrugged Arihana. "What have you learned, my lovely?" she asked,
plaiting the long tresses.
"Not to mix vodka, tequila and whiskey," sobbed the girl.
"Eugh," grimaced Arihana. "But yes, don't. No accounting for taste. You should have started on the
vodka, paced with the tequila, and then saved the whiskey for desert, honestly," she cuffeed her childs'
ear. "Like a dinner service."
"Oh, no, not food.."the words followed another round of retching.
Arihana chuckled quietly. Suraj had been easy, this was a mission and a half. Little boys she could deal
with. Little girls. God, they took it out of her.
****
Gurgles. Cheery gurgles wafted out of the basket. With every one, a new faerie came into being. Two
eyes, as shiny as buttons were wide awake. A gummy smile, completely innocent and unassuming as to
two legs, and two arms waved around in the rompersuit.
Two hands came into the basked, and scooped up the growing, thriving form. There was a grizzle as
baby got used to the motion.
"MWAH! My baby, my little girly, mine oh mine, and all mine. Hello, you missed mummy? Oh, sweetie,
you'se a bit whiffy."
There was something about baby skin. How it was so delicate, soft and smooth. The babe kicked wildy
as the rompersuit was departed.
"Whiffy, very whiffy, three guesses whatcha done," Arihana pulled a face. "Oh, okay, you'd don't like
that face, never mind, ooh, poo-ee, smelly baby."
What ensued was a tussle between a nappy, an active child and a harrassed parent.
"Shall we feed you now, would you like that?"Arihana tucked her daughter, now dressed and smelling
lovely, into her arm as she located a feed. "Think, roast chicken, with lots of trimmings, yes, lots and
lots," she laughed, pressed the teat of the bottle into the gums.
It didn't take long to down the feed. Arihana heard a squeaky pop afterwards, with baby clasped at her
hip and being winded. "Full then? There's a good girly, come on, kip, you and me both," she said
placing the now dosey child down.
****
They had been driving around the block for about three quarters of a hour.
"Sweetie, I don't know what your problem is?"huffed Arihana winding the window down as it pelted
down in July. "He's lovely, he's got his own hair, his own teeth. A degree, and a car that would make
james bond green. What's the matte wi' you woman?" she enquired.
"I don't think I can, you know, marry him?" said her daughter, nervously twirling her bouquet.
"Have you bleedin' told him? Oi, shepherd, around the block again," Arihana commanded of their
driver. "Did you not think this before I started writing cheques for florists and things."
"He is," nodded the bride. "Lovely, and nice, and what any girl wants."
Arihana rolled her eyes. "Oh, no, not you as well. Shepherd. Airport."
She pulled up outside the air port, and clambered out of the car. Pulling her daughter the bride behind
her. "Shepherd, her bags are in the back, grab them, and call that nice as pie would be son in law of
mine"
There was a clatter of heels, as Arihana and her daughter in full wedding get up ran into departures.
"What you doing?"asked the bride.
"No one said you had to get married," replied her mother. "here's a suggestion. Do a bunk."
"What?" her daughter looked at her.
"Have you never seen mama mia. Take you bloke, and run. Where was it, risa?" Asked Arihana.
"Yep, but I don't understand...."
"Wait, hang on..."Arihana was surveying a queue. "The little shi...wait there...."
"Ooooh, oh, lemme go...."
"Look what I found," Arihana had an ear in her hands, and she was twisting it. "Donought had the same
idea, didn't you..."
"No, yes..."grumbled the groom. He had been so close, but for a flash of nerves.
Arihana took her daughter's hand, and that of the man she had located.
"As your mother," Arihana looked at her daughter," and regent sovereign of both of you," she almost
spat the words. "I order you both to get on the next pod out of here, and sort yourselves out. Do a
bunk, and do things backwards for a change. God, child, who's daughter are you?" she enquired of her
daughter.
"But what, the big wedding,"the groom looked confused.
"Naff off, the pair of you," Arihana turned the both towards check in. "Find out if nice a pie is what you
both can live without. Go on, you're in your stupid get up, will get you an upgrade."
Arihana waved them both off. Doing things backwards. Always nice to make a change.
=/\=GhDar Prime - Kaliset Clan home=/\=
The rain was absolutely pounding outside now. Being a world of perpetual tropics with thick rain
forests making up a large portion of the land area, the Gorn Home world had one hell of a rainy
season, and this one was no different. The sound of the rain hitting against the domed stone structure
echoed throughout the clan home and it was enough to drive a Gorn mad from the sound.
Especially if that Gorn had been spending her time in space, where rain was not usually a problem.
"Much more of this rain and we will all drown," Yas said to her siblings as they made their way into the
clan home and got towels to dry themselves with. It was Cerisa's last night before making her return to
BoB and also before the Sirok's commencement ceremony to get underway. Come tomorrow, the
house would, once again, be empty. Cerisa would have liked to see the Sirok get going along with
everyone else, but her social status forbid her attending any such military function.
"It is only 26 karin out there, absolutly frigid!" their mother said as well. They had spent the better part
of the day in the neighboring hamlet and doing some last-minute shopping before they all shoved off.
Now, night was falling. Cerisa had opted to handle the meal for the evening. She'd never prepared food
for her siblings, so it was an interesting change of pace. She just hoped they would like Klingon food.
"Where is Cyril?" Cerisa asked. She hadn't seen her more laid-back brother yet today, wondering if he'd
returned to Sobek already or not.
"He went back to his yards," Krusse said. "Said he needed to pick something up and he would be by
later."
"Joy," Ruusak said snidely. He never had anything good to say about Cyril, perhaps because Cyril always
managed to outdo Ruusak in engineering without even trying.
"Ceri!" Yas called from the communications terminal. "There is a message for you."
"Go on," Krusse said, "We will put the rest of this away." Cerisa stepped over to the comm terminal,
followed by the eyes of her mother, and youngest brother. Krusse noticed them staring and the worry
that filled their faces. "What is it?" he asked them.
"Nothing," Ruusak snapped.
"Ruusak, " his mother chided. "do not speak to your brother in such a tone. The elder brother just
shrugged and resumed putting away the various nicknacks they had picked up. He knew full well how
to deal with his youngest brother. After all he was the clan leader and also the Commanding Officer of
the ship Ruusak served on.
"What is it about?" Yas asked Cerisa as she looked through the message. An odd look crossed the
youngest Gorn's face.
"It is a message from BoB," she said to her older sister. "They ask why I have not given any
communication." With a bit of a sinking feeling, Cerisa opened up the deleted items directory of the
message terminal. It was empty, but that didn't mean anything. She ran a quick un-delete command
and the directory filled with deleted messages. Both messages from the outgoing list and the incoming
list. They were HER messages....Ones she had sent to BoB and ones recieved that she never got to
read. A low growl raised in Cerisa's throat. She knew what had been happening. Someone had been
deleting her messages...She turned to eye her mother and brother, the growl just getting deeper.
"What is the matter, Cerisa?" Krusse asked.
"Which one of you have been doing this?" She asked, pointing an accusing finger at both Ruusak and
her mother. "Do either of you realize just how much trouble this causes? If there is an emergency
recall order in there I am in it up to my neck!"
"I do not understand what has you so worked up, sister," Ruusak said sarcastically. "You were here to
relax. We merely made sure you could."
"You do not understand, "Cerisa replied, "because you are a dickhead!" The extremely human
euphemism just made the other Gorn look between each other in confusion. They had never heard a
term like that before.
"You have been around humans too long," their mother said. "Picking up their language now I see. You
probably heard that one from...what was his name?
The..."asshole"?" she asked while looking at Krusse.
"Devan Dharma," Krusse responded.
"Do not dare speak poorly of Commander Dharma!" Cerisa growled. "And is it any wonder I prefer
human company?" Cerisa said. "At least the humans do not delete or read my mail." She growled at
them.
"Those were some...racy pictures you sent to that Klingon of yours," their mother said with a sneer.
"Next time wear at least SOMETHING. You could see just about ALL of your scales, daughter!" Cerisa's
eyes just went wide and pink flushed her cheeks in complete embarrassment. Yas was in the middle of
a drink at the moment...the drink was now spewed all over the front of her blouse.
"How dare you!!!" Cerisa snarled and tried to lunge at the two of them. Krusse was there to catch her,
despite her struggling, hissing, and clawing. She was certainly mad enough to tear them apart. "I will
kill you both and sell your corpses to the Ferengi as a fried confection!!"
"Calm down!" Krusse bellowed and sighed. He was getting so tired of having to keep the peace. "Go
deal with your messages, sister."
"But...." Cerisa started.
"Now, sister," Krusse commanded. With a growls, Cerisa nodded and gathered her messages into a
PADD, then disappeared down a corridor to her own room. She had never been quite THAT humiliated
before.
"Tramp," their mother said with exasperation.
"Quiet," Krusse said. "I am getting sick of being the only sane one here. I will deal with Cerisa later.
Right now, mother...Ruusak, we are going to have a little talk." the tone he spoke with made it clear
that there was no debating it. "Where are those pictures now?"
All eyes moved to Ruusak, much to Krusse's annoyance. This was going to be trouble.
"I took care of them." Ruusak said flatly. "I destroyed the originals." There was a loud bang from the
back room where Cerisa was going through her messages.
"I better see what that was," Yas said and made her way out of the fray as quickly as she could. She
needed to make sure their youngest sister would not tear the place down in her fury.
Krusse nodded, then crossed his arms over his chest, letting out his own growl now at the two who
were stewing all sorts of trouble for their youngest sister.
=^= BoB - Infirmary =^=
The doctor was ready with a few nurse to take care of any situation as they heard of the incident in the
engineering section. As the body beam back he saw the skeleton leg and realise what he had in front of
him "100 cc of adrenaline Vivianne"
"Sir we found him like that and we..."
The doctor cut them off "Not interesting for now, fix the blood issue first, Miek give me something to
work with I can't see shit" he took a breath and push assistant that was reluctant to move "treat the
tissue, the bone nothing to us..Mike god dam I need to see to stop the bleeding"
"I'm on it doctor, he's loosing blood to fast to control" Mike was starting to sweat.
"Doctor life signs are getting weaker"
"Mike!!!!"
"I'm doing my best Frank" trying to clean the wound.
The doctor was working in so much blood that he was guessing by moment what was what. Wasn't
pretty wasn't even trying to make it all pretty, bleeding was the main issue. "Shit, I can see anything,
Vivianne 300 cc of thysoidyx"
"But sir that may block major arteries"
"Exactly, do it" The doctor didn't even look at the nurse, she knew that he took some risk before, his
intention was to save the patient.
"Injected" she answered and walk away.
"Come on," slowly the bleeding was stopping
"Prepare to reanimated the hearth" François was conscious that an heart attack was imminent
because of the dose injected"
"Standing by" answer Vivianne.
"Finish, give him 250 c.c. of valium, 200 c.c of Grotyxm and attach Vmarex to his solution."
The nurses almost ran to get everything as fast as possible. Mike was now trying to dry off a
completely soak uniform and the doctor just saw back on the biobed beside the patient.
"That was freaking to close" said the doctor, he was on a adrenaline rush
"He was lucky" answered Mike now trying to control his shake.
"You ok?"
"Going into light shock, I've been up for 36 hours "
"Go to sleep, I'll cover you" answered the doctor.
"You both go to sleep, doctor you've been up for 48, I'll cover I'm only in my twelve"
Both man look at each other full of blood "we hit the shower then will be in room 8 taking naps, wake
me up in four hours, we need to finish this before he wake up."
"yes sir" she answered pushing them away toward the medical staff room.
Vivianne move toward the nurse that was bullied into injecting the serum "You did great there"
"I almost didn't, he was rude"
"Hon, he was doing his job, the ruder he's the better chance the patient as to survive." she smile
"Why that rudeness" she ask upset by Vivianne answer.
"Each time he loses one, he losing a battle against death, the doctor his the biggest sore loser their is
when it come to that little competition"
"Little? Where speaking a battle with death"
"Little because eventually the doctor will lose, nobody live forever"
The nurse look at Vivianne and smirk "He as a nice ass"
"You should see him in shorts"
They giggle and went to their patients.
=/\= Patrol Flight over Deva Loka Peninsula - Midnight =/\=
The two Caledonia shuttles banked sharply and flew in neat tandem over the dome. Down below in the
darkness they could see the Brothers settling onto their circle of seats in the main area, to commence
their night-time contemplations.
"Can ya count the seats?" Jinti muttered into her comm.
"Yup, same as before, two empty," Richards confirmed.
"Gonna call that back in then," Jinti replied. "An' we'll keep an eye out fer 'em when we fly over the
rest of the island, jist in case they'z outside the dome doin' mischief."
"Okay but.. I can't imagine why they'd be outside," Richards' voice was puzzled. "They know the
physical dangers of encountering any DNA their immune systems can't handle now. It doesn't make
sense."
"Bud, *nuthin' about this set-up makes sense," Jinti chuckled as they peeled away from their fly-over.
"Lets try the coast first, yeah?"
"Yeah. And tomorrow night, we're going skinny-dipping."
"Pffft. *You* can go skinny-dippin', I'z a respectable gal, I am. I ain't skinny-dippin'. No way."
"Suit yourself, chief, you don't know what you're missing."
The friendly banter kept up for the next ten minutes as they made careful patrol of the coastline
around the tiny peninsula. At the northernmost point, Jinti gave a little call of alert. "Did ya see that?"
"See what, Chief?"
"Uh, I dunno exactly. It wuz like a flash of silver..."
"A reflection? Someone signalling?" Richards came alongside her and peered down likewise.
"Nawwww.. not 'zacly," Jinti concentrated hard. "More like the moonlight reflectin' of sumthin', but
not like mirror-bright. An' it wuz jist there a second and gone."
"Where precisely? Maybe we can get in lower.."
Jinti had to think about that. "It wuz so quick.. mebbe I wuz imaginin' it after all." She took the 'Titty
lower still, so it hovered above the rocky outcrop at the base of the cliff. "If'n I saw whut I thought I
saw, then it wuz right here."
"In the sea?"
"Close enuff, yeah."
"Possibly a fish, then."
"Pretty darn large fish if'n so," Jinti scoffed.
"I don't see why not," Richards gave an unseen shrug. "This plant is over ninety-five per cent water
world. I'm sure there must be an abundance of marine life down there, probably hundreds of
thousands of different types of aquatic life."
"THERE!" Jinti's yell cut across the conversation.
"I saw it - I think.. yes! there it is again!" Richards shouted. "It's going out to sea."
"Follow that fish," Jinti hollered.
The two shuttles switched on their searchlights and came down as close to the waves as they dared.
"Gone," Jinti groaned after a few fruitless moments.
Richards was making small circular sweeps but after another five minutes even he had to give up.
"Reckon whatever it was must have been scared off. Possibly a seal, or sea lion, or whatever this
planet's variation of that is."
"Shiny, shiny.." Jinti muttered.
"Scaled like a fish, or smooth-fur skinned like a seal? I reckon both can catch the moonlight," Richards
followed her as she pulled back up to a higher orbit, taking them back off the narrow coastline.
"Anything or nothing?"
"Eh, I dunno, bud. I'll put it in the report all the same." Jinti turned the shuttle inland, over the outer
rim of the valley. Hows about we take a good look through the trees here, an' then grab a cup of
coffee.?"
"Sounds like a plan, Chief," Richards beamed, as the shuttles swooped into their next search pattern.
30 Years Ago... Stardate 238304.13 - USS Nimitz
I see the waves of sand
Big free
Another land
Dreams within dreams
You are alive
They gave me their wings
I spread them wide
I'll move on
to another place
from my memories
unmade
I'll hold on
and my heart will find you there
love will shine free
Forever
Sun flames
And moons glow
Timeless the tides will flow
What will I face what will be mine
Fortune and fate
The other side
'My Death...'
Amber looked up as the door slid apart. There was Commander Taylor covered in bluish blood, carrying
their ship's Counselor, Pyyr'l, in his blood stained and spattered arms. "Get the surgical ward ready,
Emma!" she screamed over her shoulder as she began scanning Pyyr'l and Taylor. The commander
looked like he'd been on the losing end of some serious action.
"Right away Doctor!" Emma called back as she hurried. T'Vahr was also moving forward in a rush
learned from years of emergency prep, though not a drop of emotion or concern crossed his cold
Vulcan exterior.
"She's lost a lot of blood. How are our reserves of cobalt based blood?" Amber asked over her shoulder
to the Vulcan medical officer.
"Our reserves are not at sufficient levels to meet the amount required," T'vahr responded from behind
a console, accessing the medical inventory database. "I am checking the personnel files for Bolian and
Andorian crewmembers that may be compatible."
~Taltos to Akhzouri, if you are still on the ship I really need your help in the Haley section of Sickbay.~
she declared into her comm badge.
Standing in the ruins of the counselors quarters Dr Akhzouri frowned slightly as the CMO's voice came
through his comm badge.
He was still in the Counselor's quarters with several members of the ship's security force. The weapon
the CEO had used on the Mirror Pyyr'l seemed to have done the job.
Hopefully.
~Understood, I'm on my way.~ he finally responded.. He tapped his comm badge once to close the
channel and shook his head as he mumbled a silent curse. All this death and destruction; what the hell
was the point???
"We'll take it from here, Commander. Thank you for bringing her. Nurse Rosa will check you over while
we save Pyyr'l," Amber said as she and T'Vahr rushed Pyyr'l to surgery.
The Counselor was almost totally soaked in the dark blue fluid that was her blood and small bubbled of
the ichor could be seen forming around her lips as well as her ravaged chest, though the sound of any
breathing was only a bare rasping sound.
Amber muttered under her breath, as she looked over at the others. "If the other Pyyr'l is still in our
timeline, I think she should be the one to help us save our Pyyr'l," she hated admitting it but she was at
her wits end. They were going to lose Pyyr'l.
As the doctor's attendant cut away the Counselor's already ruined clothing she began a methodical
scan. Amber first noticed that the crystal tiara was damaged and cracked from blunt trauma of some
kind, odd she thought that it was still on at all after the apparent beating that the Counselor had taken
before her assailant had decided to end it.
But when she tried to remove it the tiara wouldn't budge; it appeared to be fused to her skull. Amber
ran a quick scan, but it was hard to determine if it was artificial or part of her biology, but one thing
was for sure, it wasn't coming off. Interestingly enough the tiara seemed to be generating or
resonating a low yield EM field of its own.. She would have to look into that later, if there was a later.
Further scans, based on the limited info they had on their Counselor's biology, which wasn't much, was
that the two smaller hearts of her cardiovascular system were ravaged to the point where they
couldn't be repaired. The Counselor's current cardio-pulmonary system was working off the damaged
larger central heart.
Both lungs were pierced with the left lung shredded by some sadistic individual, but the other lung
might be salvageable Amber noted in her tricorder. Strangely there was another organ attempting to
process air into the patient's biochemistry, except that the air pathways were not centrally aligned to
patient's sinus, but instead to small micro ducts on her back along her spine. She had no idea what to
make of the small pieces of crystal that were embedded in various parts of the body either.
Amber had no idea or time to ponder on this just right then as numerous other internal injuries. Along
with that their reserves of cobalt based blood were very low.
Amber frowned and looked up at Emma. "Call down Ens. Jacob Smith. Ask him if he is willing to donate
some of his blood, to help save Pyyr'l? With his mixed parentage of Andorian and Human it might
help." She paused and then added. "I think the Assistant Chief of Sciences might be able to help as
well. Apic is his last name."
Emma nodded and moved away to call their Chief Diplomatic officer and the ACSO, to the Haley
section of Sickbay.
A few minutes later...
"You might want to cross-reference with both crystalline life forms and Borg nano-probes. Lt. Pyyr'l's
biology is very strange, almost like an ecosystem in itself, with a very indistinct border between inside
and outside." Dr Akhzouri said, then was silent for a moment as Emma attached a blood lead. "For all
we know all those stones she wears might actually be part of her bio-system."
The Counselor had began to convulse again as the surgeon were lowering the sterile field and
operating assembly over her and her body temperature was dangerously low by any humanoid
standards for a warm blooded mammal.
"Her cobalt hemoglobin is registering dangerously low amounts of oxygen and high amounts of carbon
dioxide and her blood plasma is registering high levels of...this can't be right...liquid silicate?" A nurse
reported from the side where she was monitoring the patient's status for the doctor.
"We can't keep her going much longer," Dr Akhzouri admitted, glancing at the bio-function monitor.
They'd gone through so many traditional methods of treatment that he could barely remember all of
them. Despite the redundancy of her physiology, Pyyr'l's organs were so damaged that it was a true
task to keep her from slipping into total organ failure, cardiac arrest, and shock all at the same time.
With a heaving sigh, he glanced across the Counselor's petite body at Dr. Taltos. "I think we're going to
have to try something a little less orthodox."
"Orthodox or not, we can't give up. What do you have in mind?" Amber asked.
"We can use a detronal scanner and the genitronic replicator to scan and replicate Pyyr'l's organs. But
with the complexity of her DNA, that could take hours and I doubt that she has more than half an hour
left," Dr Akhzouri explained. "I think we should still pursue it, and in the meantime use holographic
organ replacement until the genitronic replicator can produce the real thing. To combat the Viidians,
the Voyager's holographic doctor was able to use the same procedure. Of course that was with one
organ at a time with a humanoid whose physiology we know far more about. But I think it's worth a try
because we're running out of options, Amber."
"With as damaged as her organs are and the little knowledge we have of their workings, I'm not certain
it would work for very long if at all. Still, it is better than nothing. What else do we need to do?" Amber
said with a frown.
"We'll have to keep her in an isotropic restraint while the holographic organs are operating. The
slightest movement, and they'll stop functioning and we'll be back at square one," Dr Akhzouri said,
reaching for the detronal scanner to begin a scan of Pyyr'l's organs.
"Let's see if we can really pull of a miracle here folks." Amber's voice sounded tired but by no mean any
less determined.
Several hours a war of hope waged on...
Nurse Emma was kept busy by the constant train of injured personnel, as well as casualties, but her
face had long since grown numb; mostly. During one of her brief breaks, an Andorian officer
approached her. Softly he asked: "Do you have any idea how things are going?" Emma sighed and
shook her head as the Counselor spewed thick blue blood all over the face mask she was wearing for
O2.
"Not good, whatever that person did to her was pretty effective and cruel. The Counselor has more
redundancy in her bio-system than a Klingon and still she's on the border of full organ failure." She
looked up and smiled wanly. "The blood you both are giving, helps, but somehow it isn't enough."
The complex medical scanners in the surgical ward echoed the Nurse's words as it showed almost all
organ systems in the red, right above that little mark that separated it from the black.
He nodded and gathered his thoughts. During the time he had been here, he had thought about what
he knew about the Counselor. Talil's interest in the Va'loriate had a lot to do with her talk in the first
bit of time after Pyyr'l's arrival.
"It might be a strange idea, but wouldn't the Counselor have prepared something for a case like this?
Like a Va'loriate first aid kit for beginners? After all, however powerful she might be, there might be
times when she would be incapacitated and would have to rely on others for healing."
Emma looked at his face from her, monitoring his vitals. "I heard that the CEO used an iso-magnetic
disintegrator on the other Counselor, blew her quarters to hell and back and was lucky the he didn't
breach the hull; anyways I'm pretty sure there is nothing left in her quarters of use after that..."
The Andorian officer was well aware of the damage an iso-magnetic disintegrator could cause. He hung
his head, as even this small hope was dashed.
Amber shook her head sadly. Everything she and Dr Akhzouri had tried, had come down to nothing.
She reached out and lightly took one of Pyyr'ls hands in her own. "I'm so sorry Pyyr'l." she said softly,
the tears flowing freely down her face.
Dr Akhzouri peered down at the small frame of the Counselor and heaved a sigh a sigh for Pyyr'l, a sigh
for the crew, and a sigh for the demise of an entire race. The loss of a patient was almost like an
occupational hazard, an inevitable for every physician, but somehow those thoughts never seemed
comforting enough.
Dr Akhzouri turned away from the body and began accessing data on Pyyr'l's condition when she was
brought in. There was no sense in watching that last breath ease out and see the spirit in her eyes
finally give in. It was the same with every patient. The important thing, he kept telling himself, was to
move on and see that justice was served. Although now was not the appropriate time, he was already
planning to ask Amber for permission to do the autopsy. Even as the last vestiges of life faded from
Pyyr'l, his mind was reviewing the scene he'd stumbled upon at her quarters. The blood pools, the
blood spatter, the wound patterns; the shear horror she had gone through, but at least now she could
rest, finally rest.
As Amber cried, she saw the blood stained lips of the Counselor move... just a bit, then again. She was
certain the Counselor wasn't conscious; she hadn't regained consciousness during the entire duration
of emergency surgery.
She leaned closer motioning for the others to be quiet, even as the medical alarms and scanners
started to flat line across the board.
One word...something...perhaps a last request? Amber couldn't quiet make it out at first.
"Bor...is..." The Counselor whispered one last time...
Suddenly all the alarms went silent and Pyyr'l went still as all the bio-signs failed.
The Present... Stardate 240806.22 - Dilithium Freighter SS Martel
The ship's navigational hazards alarm caused the petite counselor to lurch out of her own nightmare,
one she dreamed of far too often, with a short scream and many a gasp for air as she fell out of the
bed frantic and crying as she huddled alone on the cold floor at the base of the bunk with her silvermetallic blue hair hanging about her like a shroud.
Like so many times before she broke down and wailed at fate for the pain of her existence...
The streets are empty
inside it's warm.
her hands are shaking
they locked the door
a voice is calling
asking to get in
all she wanted was a toy
all she needed was a gentle heart
to lead her through the dark
when her dreams are running wild
girl and the ghost
fire's not burning
the lights went out
the lights went out
big family dinner
the untold tale
their eyes are sparkling on her frozen face
angel's calling
asking to get in
all she wanted was a toy
all she needed was a gentle heart
to lead her through the dark
when there's nowhere left to fall
girl and the ghost
her eyes are burning
the lights went out
the dreamy is on.
wake up, wake up:
there's an angel in the snow
look up, look up:
it's a frightened dead girl
with so much hate, such bad dreams.
she could have seen
the toy's the key
but no one saw
no one saw
all she wanted was a toy
all she needed was a bleeding heart
to lead her through the dark
girl and the ghost
Despero, solitas, debilis, desolo.
Despero, solitas, debilis, desolo.
when there's nowhere left to fall.
nowhere to hide
the silence is hurting
inside it's cold
sleep or die
nowhere to go
nowhere to hide
her light went out
=/\=GhDar Prime - Kaliset Clan Home=/\=
Everyone was gone now, except for Cerisa and her mother. Her siblings were on their way to the
commencement ceremony for the Sirok, and then they would be on their first official assignment. She
was gathering the last of her things in preparation to transport to her ship and be on her way back to
BoB.
The large lizard smile inwardly. Her ship...Her brother Cyril had just finished the modification on an old
Klingon Bird of Prey to modern civilian standards. Sure, it was small, only being three decks, but it was
hers. They had chipped in, her siblings, and bought it for her. It was more than she had expected and
was more than happy to get it. She would have to park it next to K'Ral's at BoB. She could figure all that
out on the way, though.
"What will you name it?" she had heard her brother, Cyril, ask. It had taken her time to figure that out,
but she had a good name for it. She would simply call it the Kaliset, after her clan. It seemed the most
appropriate.
Quietly, she was packing the last of her bags when she noticed something missing. Her large work
PADD was gone. Frantically, she tore through her bag, seeing if she had packed it by her disruptor
pistol. That PADD held all the information on her projects at BoB and if she lost it there would be no
end of trouble.
"Looking for this?" came the snide voice behind her. Cerisa growled and turned to see Ruusak standing
in the doorway into her room. In his claw, he held her PADD. "All sorts of interesting things on this." he
said, tapping the key to page through it. "Especially this 'Project Foothold'. A Trans-dimensional Warp
Drive?"
"You have no right to go through that Ruusak!" Cerisa snarled at him. "Besides you are supposed to be
at the cerimony!"
"It does not start for another half-hour. Now then, I am an older brother," Ruusak said. "So I have
every right." He eyed her. "It seems you encrypted the files though. Give me the encryption key,
sister."
"Those files are none of your business," she growled at him again, but his movement came faster than
she could anticipate. In less than a second, he had her pinned against the large heat stone with a knee
in the middle of her chest. He was much larger and stronger than she was physically, and in this
position he had her at a distinct advantage.
"You know, Sister," Ruusak said viciously. "You were born weak...a runt," he growled at her. "By right I
should have killed you long ago, but Krusse would never allow such a thing." A snide little sneer
crossed his reptilian face. "He is not here now, though. Give me the encryption key and I will let you
walk out of here."
"You are insane Ruusak!" Cerisa hissed at him as she reached to her pack. "You have done nothing but
make everyone miserable with your issues." She bit at him with her words, her forked tongue slipping
from between her lips in her agitation. "You lie, steal, anything else you can to get ahead at anyone's
expense!" He hadn't noticed her reaching, thankfully.
"Of course," Ruusak said as he rolled his eyes. "Still upset that I took your plans from you and passed
them as my own," He shook his head and sighed. "It was so easy to do, Sister, and it moved me
ahead...someone that actually has a place in the Gorn Navy." He tapped the PADD. "This, though,
sounds like it could make me quite wealthy." As he talked, Cerisa found and wrapped her claw around
the grip of her disruptor pistol. Now she had him.
"You disgust me, Ruusak." She snarled as she brought the pistol to bear and squeezed the trigger. A
bolt of yellow-green energy hit the larger Gorn square in the chest. The blast sent him reeling as he fell
back against a wall and slid down to the floor. There he remained, motionless.
With no end of annoyance, Cerisa got back to her feet and smoothed out her clothing, then picked up
her PADD and packed it and her pistol away. Once those were secure, she kneeled beside her prone
brother.
"Do not worry, Ruusak," she said quietly to him. "You are not dead. Merely stunned." She chuckled.
Gorn pistols set to stun were considered unnecessarily brutal by Federation standards. They merely
called total paralysis while nerves went haywire. The sensation was akin to a limb that had fallen
asleep and the millions of needles poking as it came back to life. In this case, though, the sensation was
from head to toe and those hit could barely utter a sound.
"I have to thank you, Ruusak," she continued. "You gave me exactly what I needed for vindication." a
smile of her own passed across her scaled lips. "Next time, be wary of what you say around an open
comm line. No telling what might be recording on the other end." She motioned a claw to the Starfleet
comm badge pinned to her shirt. The badge that was currently tied to her ship's computer and
recorded all keystrokes and conversations.
With a bit of effort, she hefted his limp form up and stuffed him into her closet, then closed the door
on him. Inwardly, she chided herself at the amusement she had at the trouble he would get in to for
missing formation, but it was well deserved. She gathered her packs and stepped out into the main
living area. One more obstacle between her and her trip back to the Starbase. Her mother....
"Have you seen your brother Ruusak?" her mother asked. "I thought he was here."
"Oh he is around," Cerisa said with a little bit of a chuckle.
"Have you said goodbye to him?" The older Gorn asked her, while crossing her arms over her chest.
"I did, Mother," Cerisa said. "I ever gave him a kiss goodbye." This raised her mother's suspicions, but
she held it in. The old reptile had no idea her precious Ruusak was sitting stunned in a closet
contemplating his stupidity. "I must be on my way now, Mother."
"Your place is HERE, daughter!" Her mother snarled at her. "With your family! You are the only one I
have left!" Cerisa just stared at her. That was what all this was about? Her mother was just lonely? Still,
she had duties to attend to and had to get back.
"Mother," Cerisa said. "There is no reason to be lonely. If you wish to have children in the house, you
are not so aged that you cannot have more. I have to go now." Cerisa turned and made her way
towards the doorway.
"Fine," her mother said with a growl. "If you leave, do not ever come back." Her mother had balled her
claws into fists and was staring down her youngest daughter. "This is still MY house and I can overrule
your brother on this. If you walk out, I never want to see you again. You will be no daughter of mine."
Cerisa stopped dead and turned to look at her mother in just a bit of shock. The expression on the
older Gorn's face was one of pure anger. Cerisa weighed this carefully, then looked at her mother and
nodded slowly.
"Goodbye Mother," Cerisa said quietly, then turned and walked out without looking back. Once she
was in the courtyard, she looked up at the sun overhead. This world didn't feel like her world anymore.
She was the alien here and she wanted to go home. For her, home was that dilapidated Starbase near
the Typhon Expanse.
With a heavy sigh and a bit of sadness, she tapped her comm badge twice to call on her ship's
computer to transport her aboard. She had a long trip ahead of her and plenty of time to consider all of
it.
=Back at the perimeter=
Zerin considered herself lucky to have ditched Hoix just as he was talking about yet another one of his
hobbies: making cement.
Making cement. As a hobby. Oh man.
Now, she had two other brothers: Fulbert and Klykert. They both looked really guilty and embarrassed.
"We really did patrol. Really really really," Klykert insisted.
"I'm not disputing any of that." *Not yet.*
They came upon the upside down bush. Zerin pointed at it.
"I TOLD you not to dawdle when you were taking a leak!" Brother Fulbert yelled.
"I wasn't dawdling," Klykert protested.
"You should cut down on the beer before night patrol, Brother!"
"I had ONE beer!"
"It makes you pee six seconds after patrol begins!"
"It helps me focus!"
"YO!" Zerin waved her arms. "What does the beer have to do with patrolling? Or the upside down
bush?"
Fulbert and Klykert looked at each other. Then they looked at Zerin.
"I fell asleep," Klykert admitted, a guilty look on his face.
"You PASSED OUT DRUNK," Fulbert insisted.
"Okay okay, I can keep a secret," Zerin assured them. "Just...did you see anything odd? Fulbert, I mean.
Klykert was obviously unconscious."
"We get a certain amount of time for the shift. And I was patrolling by myself," Fulbert explained. "And
I had to do it by myself."
"Because Klykert was passed out drunk. Why didn't you get a replacement?"
"Because Klykert has a DRINKING PROBLEM! And he was on probation already."
"I don't have a drinking problem," Klykert insisted. "I got a reprimand. I'm not on probation."
"KLYKERT! FULBERT! I don't want to HEAR THIS!" Zerin yelled. "Just continue with the story. Fulbert's
patrolling and what happened next?"
"I got really tired from patrolling, doing everything by myself and all," Fulbert said, glowering at
Klykert. "And maybe, being tired, while Klykert was passed out intoxicated, I wasn't as thorough as I
could've been, since nothing has ever happened here before. Obviously, if there had been two, SOBER
Brothers on duty, we might have noticed something, but still..."
"Don't you even TRY to guilt me!" Klykert looked like he wanted to punch Fulbert.
The best course of action was to skip the inevitable shouting match. Zerin quietly gathered some soil
samples while the two red-faced, irate Brothers of Po inched toward each other, screaming and
pointing and threatening each other with bodily harm.
She found herself back in the lab. The good part was, she was away from Fulbert and Klykert. The bad
part was, she was back with Hoix. At least he wasn't discussing cement. He was, instead, analyzing soil
samples.
Zerin was no scientific analyst, but she figured that since Hoix was really scowling hard, there was
something wrong with the soil.
"This is fish DNA," Hoix whimpered.
"This place isn't near any large bodies of water," Zerin said.
"No."
"And there have never been, to your knowledge, any fish in the history of this planet that sprouted legs
and learned to walk and dig."
"No."
"Ooooooo-kay." Zerin tapped her combadge. She needed an excuse to get away from this dullard. "Fell
to Myers. There is piscene DNA in this upturned soil. Hoix is going to upload the reports to the ship's
computers."
=/\= Sickbay - USS Caledonia =/\=
"Can you actually make any of that out?" Bree rubbed at his eyes roughly with one hand as he pushed
the top if his microscope away from him.Alongside the 'scope on the make shift work bench he'd
constructed at the far end of the sickbay lay several slides and even more empty mugs.
Carol carefully approached the microscope, narrowing her eyes first at Bree and then further as he
sighted down the barrel of the 'scope. "You're asking for a second opinion? Who are you and what
have you done with the real Doctor Conley?" She knew that he was scowling at her without even
looking up from the slide.
"I'm not asking you for an important opinion. I just need a fresh set of eyes and your's will have to do.
Luckily crows feet don't actually affect the quality of a persons sight. No matter how bad they are." As
he grumbled Bree had the sense to get up and out of Carol's reach. He pretended to work a crick out of
his neck.
"It's blurry. I can't make out any of the finer detail." Carol stiffened at the microscope but refused to
rise to Bree's jibe. "It's not the lens."
"I know it's not the lens. It's my lens, I configured it." Bree's nostrils flared, "It must be the sample
then."
Carol sat back, "What's the sample from? One of the experiments you set up before we arrived here?"
There was still a rack of test tubes set up along the back of the sickbay. One of them on the end
bubbled occasionally for reasons Bree had never explained.
"It's from Brother Fisar." replied Bree evenly as he began clearing some of the mess he'd made away.
There was a hint of surprise of Carol's voice, "They let you remove a sample from the surface? I
thought they were meant to be quite...insular."
"It wasn't a question of allowing me to take the sample really. I took my tools down to the surface for
the autopsy and then I brought them back up." The corners of his mouth twisted into a tight smile,
"Sometimes tissue gets caught to some of the more jagged instruments."
Carol felt it was her turn to scowl at Bree. She folded her arms angrily. "That's pretty low."
Bree shrugged his shoulders dismissively, "Permission and rights and all that rubbish are a moot point
now. The sample I managed to nab is useless. We're going to have to go down and analyses a better
sample there. Pack up the 'scope."
"Wait.." Carol stopped packing away the equipment, "If you can go down and do you tests and
whatever why did you need to sneak a sample up here?"
"Because," huffed Bree, "Whilst I may have frankly antiquated equipment and useless staff to contend
with up here I at least don't have to worry about Brother Kosnax peering over my shoulder and
offering me his thoughts on the after life."
"An autopsy seems like a fitting place for those kind of thoughts."
"The one with the sharp implements in his hand should get to decide that." muttered Bree. "Hurry up
with the equipment."
Carol slipped the last few slides into the microscope container and placed it next to the standard
medical kit. "Are you going to be able to carry all that down?"
"I don't have to. You'll be carrying it all down." Bree snorted, "You're going to get to visit the
Brotherhood of Po for yourself." He lead the way out of Sickbay slowly, giving Carol time to gather up
the bags of equipment that she'd just put down.
"I assume..." Carol started to lose her breath as she tried to drag all of the bags along behind her, "That
I'll be doing more than just your heavy lifting?"
"Yes. You'll be distracting Brother Kosnax for me while I take a closer look at the samples down there.
I've got a whole battery of tests I want to run without him sticking his pious nose in."
"Glad to hear all my medical training and years of experience are going to be put to good use."
muttered Carol bitterly.
=/\= SB BoB - CO's Office =/\=
"ARE YOU MY MUMMY?" the Mulder-like doll squeaked, causing the Mulder-like human to curse
under her breath.
The Military Moppets doll had sat on her desk for several weeks now, and every time she thought
about disposing of it, something took her attention elsewhere. Surely that salesman - what was his
name? - Albert Gristle, must be long gone by now. Courtesies had been done, dolls accepted, and now
they were just a bit of a nuisance.
Before she could pick it up though she finished reading François' latest report on the injured engineer
with the chewed leg. This had gone far enough - it was time to close the station.
"Mulder to Main Ops. Seal all docking ports, send any docked ships on their way and close the station
until further notice."
^"Will do, captain."^ Crewman Lupha's voice sounded like she almost expected it. ^"Any other
message?"^
"Yes. Send out long-range forecasts to all ships, telling there's.. something contagious on the station.
That should keep even the most ghoulish sightseers away."
^Consider it done.^
"And put shields up. I don't know what we've got inside the station, but I sure as hell don't want any
*more* of it getting inside."
That would take care of the immediate problem as far as incomers were concerned, but now what to
do about - whatever was inside. She nibbled absent-mindedly at a Jaffa cake and sat back in
contemplation. The station seemed so quiet now, with the promenade turned into a giant refugee
shelter. Something in the dark. It couldn't be a one-ff. Somewhere in the galaxy, someone must have
suffered something similar, some time.
The little phrase that had popped into her head a few days ago re-surfaced, still as tantalisingly vague...
"Almost every species in the universe has an irrational fear of the dark, but they're wrong, because it's
not irrational. It's..." It's what?
"Computer, search databanks of all known species for references to... fear of the dark. Shadows.
Dangers of the darkness. Display."
[Working]
BoB's main computer wheezed for a few moments, and then Mulder's commconsole screen flared
brightly with incoming information. "Whoa.. slowly.. Hell, how many species out there have this old
legend?" She started to read, and then gave a small cry of triumph. There is was, complete.
[Almost every species in the universe has an irrational fear of the dark, but they're wrong, because it's
not irrational. It's Vashta Nerada.]
"That's it," she murmured to herself. "Vashta Nerada. It's a line from an old kid's sci-fi show. Can't
remember what the story was about, but the phrase always stuck in my head." She read on [Exaggerated term for the more simplified 'Bogeyman - a shade of the darkness used to frighten small
children.]
Alright, so that was the Earth legend. She read more and discovered hat the Argeillians had a term for
it too - Wa'alka, which meant 'foul darkness that sucks souls'. Mind you, the Argellians had a bit of a
thing about the darkness anyway, what with that unfortunate Jack the Ripper business last century.
There was more. The Andorians also had a word for it - Tel'Sta, which mean 'tiny black stars that kill'.
"Computer, add in all references in children's literature" She figured that all legends had to start
somewhere, and most fears had some origins in children's stories.
The Vulcan mythology was a bit of a wash since Vulcans would really admit to being scared of anything.
Likewise the Klingons. Oddly enough, the Cardassians had a tiny footnote in their references to a cloud
of dark death they called 'Leeowna' which was guaranteed to send a person mad with it's incessant
buzzing.
Some time later, Mulder rubbed her eyes and sat back. There had been nearly thirty references in all,
across the known galaxy, from all civilisations both ancient and modern. Most were vague, but all had
a common theme. If so many cultures had this same basis, then maybe it was because there *was* a
basis. A reality that no-one had ever quantified.
So.. think, think, think. Assume they're right and something is in the darkness. Sentient?
Undetermined. Dangerous? Undeniably. How had it got in? What caused it? Where did it come from?
A cold shiver ran down her spine as she read another note from the earth legend. [It's what's in the
dark. It's what's always in the dark.]
She was no scientist, and she needed scientific input now. If something *was* in the dark then it must
be inert until something triggered it. What? The only thing that had happened of real note had been
that last furious mega-powerful bolt of lightening. Could that be the key? That was when the lights
went out, certainly.
Deciding to make her way to the science labs - by the quickest possible route, she picked up the doll on
her way. She would dispose of it at the same time.
As her hand reached down, the doll's random vocal sensor activated again "ARE YOU MY MUMMY?"
Mulder was so startled out of her reverie that she took a step backwards and inadvertently kicked the
power cord that connected to the emergency spotlight in the office.
Blackness descended and she froze. The starlight peering in through the viewport was barely enough
to give her an outline of the furniture, and even that became blotted out.
It was getting darker....
Now she could hear the buzzing, like a million angry mosquitoes. "Stop it!" she shouted in sudden
atavistic terror. "Whatever you are, get off my station!"
In an instinctive reaction, she through the doll with all her might into the corner of darkness.
There was a pause as time hung breathless.
Then a sudden swerve as the darkness seemed to descend onto the corner where the doll had fallen.
Mulder dived for the power cord and threw herself towards the outlet to plug it back in, and the light
temporarily blinded her as it flared full on.
The buzzing stopped and as she blinked the sunspots away from her eyes she could see the room in it's
reassuring low light again. And more.. over in the corner lay the remains of her doll.
Where the DNA activated skin and hair had previously moulded, now there was nothing except the
metal plating and plastic remnants. As if something had sucked every trace of human cosmetic DNA off
the outer covering.
She picked it up with a grimace. It almost looked like a Borg figurine now.
But, it gave her a brief insight and she spoke, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the small office.
"Computer, send copies of my research to the consoles of all officers and crew. Let them see what sort
of mythology we're up against."
Assured that it was done, Mulder then tapped her commbadge. "Captain to all crew. Those of you that
had Military Moppets dolls foisted on you - carry them with you at all times. If you get stuck in the
darkness, use them as a decoy. I can assure you the darkness will attack them, and maybe give you a
valuable moment's reprieve. Until then - stay out of the shadows."
Now she would get herself off to the science labs. Holding the dolls away from her, hoping to retain
some forensic evidence of whatever attacked it, maybe the science crew could come up with some
solution.
=/\= SB BoB Kids Club =/\=
A long sheet of paper filled the corridor. Around which were nestled the stations juniors of varying
ages, shapes and sizes.
"Gimme that glue."
"I want that paint."
"Felt, please."
"Sequins, and flashy things, please."
"Merrrrm, she took my brush."
"Suraj. Play nice."
"Can I have the blue paint please. Suraj, is that a flower or a person."
Arihana stepped back, her hands were bright blue. Avril stood beside her, clutching a pair of scissors.
"Oh, this is carnage," commented the counsellor. "I'm not a babysitter. Of all the brught ideas, Avril,
this one had to be the one messiest."
"It's not bad," shruggged Avril. "The kids are occupied. The parents are all together."
"I know," nodded Arihana. "Guess it's as useful. Dominic, put that glue down. E'lan Fe'griss, do not not
put that paint on his trouser. Shay'zam. Enough glitter. Where are those spuds?"
A tray of varied foodstuffs appeared as well as the prefered potatoes.
"Lentils," tutted Arihana. "Pinches, not fist fuls. Easy there, Monty, I said pinch. Mung beans, pinch."
"Want the green ones."
"Yillow wuns."
"Beanss-powts."
There was that horrible slapping sound as the long roll of lining paper was attacked.
"Orange and yellow makes orange."
"Red blue purple?"
"Merrrmmmm the water all muddy."
Arihana tutted, she'd been doing alot of that, as she reached into to liberate the water and refresh it.
"Pass me that tin foil."
"Gimme that tissue paper, the pink one."
"Don't wan' that one, gimme that one. I want the yellow one."
Arihana watched as she placed the water down again. She was handed a tubes of poster paints. "Gang
way, children, unless you want funky hair." She said squeezing the contents.
"kids, take this marbles," Avril distributed handfulls. "And ball bearings, but we need those back. Choke
and you're history, be carefull."
"Now this is carnage," winced the counsellor.
"We'll let it dry," said the yeoperson.
"Yep," nodded Dharma. "I am *so* tempted to ask people to come play. We could have gideons hands,
Avi Richters feet, the doctor too, and baxter. Ah, well, too much fun," she shrugged. "But enough for
us."
~*~* Old Rajah's Place. Rajahstan, India, Earth ~*~*~*
PFFFFFFTTTTTTT. KKKKKERRRRRPLUNK. WEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
The right reverand Sujal Dharma breathlessly landed through the doors of the front court of the old
palace. It had been one, years ago. It had braved the British Raj, a couple of world wars, and the odd
Ferengi who got drunk. Now it was an isolated church estate in the North of India with a congregation
of seventy.
At the moment though, it was facing an onslaught. A convoy of six armoured cars had woven it's way
through the sandy dustball, through the village and was headed up the square of Farishtay village and
towards the Church Haveli. Sujal fiddled frantically, trying to bold the door, and smack the lock into
place.
There had been threats. That they would come claim the loot. Beneath the palace there was meant to
be a strong room. Had belonged to the last Rajah, and was meant to be an aladdins cave of goodies.
Goodies that had forced many rumours abound. Rumours that Sujal dismissed, he didn't care much
that. He just happened to have queried a couple of diocesan clerics, and got posted out here.
The sun was often out, he had as much proof Black label plonk he could get from the locals as he
wanted. All this rubies and silver malarkey, to him it was something out of Indiana Jones.
"You know if you're listening," he called out to stoney silence of the knave. "I could do with something
a bit nifty and goes bang." Sujal wiped his brow. He had run from the sqaure with its closed verandahs
as folks had scrambled into their abodes with the first dust of mercernaries.
"Rev, that you?" called a voice. Followed by a frantic pace that belonged to Doris Mayweather. The
'housekeeper'. She too was a strange one. A wrinkly prune of a woman, who had come out here to find
herself. She had no children, her husband was mystery. She was toting something.
All around them, the walls shook. Dust cascaded as the convoy launched an attack.
PPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEING!
Sujal ducked. "Bloody hell, Doris, what in the name of?" he asked, standng up.
"I found it in the vestry," she said, laughing almost. "It's like something out of Dad's Army," she said,
waving the long rifle. "Turns out we're the home guard."
"Give here." Sujal grasped his hands out. "And then get your handbag, love, and run. The donkey out
the back, should get you to about somewhere safe."
"But what about you?" She asked, inhaling sharply. "You can't stand here alone, this is not say The OK
Corral." Doris felt an almost maternal fear for the young priest. She had been bemused at first,
meeting him in New Delhi drinking darjeeling at the Transport depot. He had been such an alien being,
sat there in a football shirt, jeans and flip flops. Then he had told her about his vocation. She had
nearly fallen off her seat.
"No, it's not," said the reverend. "This is nothing but a bunch of marble slabs, a bit of cow dung for
mortar, and a coulple of broken chairs," he shrugged. "There aint no treaure," he scoffed. "But I aint
goin' wi'out a fight, Doris. I worked damn hard for that seventy who fill the seats."
"You're crazy, son, you really are," Doris said, throwing her hands into the air. "Am going." She tossed
him the box of rounds that had been resting in the pocket of her pinny.
"No, I'm a Dharma, sweetie, t'ra my lovely!" Suaj grinned, blew her a kiss, and legged it towards the
stairs behind the altar that lead to the roof.
Doris paniced in her room, throwing stuff into a sheet, knotting the corners. Donkey. She had to get to
that donkey.
Sujal scrambled up the stairs and onto the roof. A flat roof around a domed structure. There were
some turrets close by and he lodged himself into one. The armoured vehicles had the palace
surrounded. In his head, he remembered being at his aunts' house in Birmingham. In the garden,
playing target practice using pigeons and other flying rodents with Arihana and her dad. 'Sujal son,
focus it, can shoot what you want, kid,' Jevan had said. 'But remember what Atticus said. Shoot what
you want, son, but it's a sin to shoot a bluejay.'
"It was Birmingham, not the deep south," Sujal told himself in the present, as he took aim at a stokcy
figure about to break the door down. "Then again, I'm supposed to be a pacifist."
"Chat per, char per hai, kumbuct sala!" The litanty of abuse was in perfect hindi, as two fist draggers
spotted him.
"Maro Sale koh!" came the order to kill him.
"Oh, sweet mother of," Sujal swung to the side, as a bullet pinged off the brickwork. "Take this and
whistle!" Suraj yelled, loading quickly and firing.
This was going to be difficult. There was one of him, and about thirty of them.
Away in the distance. A pained braying broke the dense air. A limp and bloodied form was slumped
across the saddle. Her knotted possessions fell with a thud.
Then there was Sujal and his last stand. He held them for as many rounds as he could.
The rifle had ended up on a stream about seventeen kilometres away. A useless metallic thing. Sujal
limped across the red arid ochre of dust and towards the main road. A huge hover juggernaut hurtled
towards him, and he hopped out the way. There was a puddle of blood that formed from the deep
phaser shot that had smashed his right leg.
He held out his thumb and he prayed. Prayed that someone would stop.
=/\= SB BoB Science labs =/\=
As the instructions from the captain came through, the three Boffs, Tom, Dick and Harry, were
assembled around their work stations. Deep in discussion as they read the latest data at their
terminals.
"It's like particle existence, but without the sentient organic mass," commented Dick, using his wheeled
seat to move across the lab.
"It dark matter," chuckled Harry. "Literally. Stuff exists.
"But has to be charged, and polarised," said Dick. There was a flurry of movement from the three as
the moved around the lab. One check data, one checked a photochromic analysis. The third was
checking out polarisation.
Mulder peered cautiously around the door, very aware of her last visit when Cadet Andrews had been
making exploding paint. "Is it safe to come in?"
"howdy, ello, Yes, Ma'am," came the three tiered chorus from the Boffs.
"Good," she walked over. "How goes it?"
"Pull up a stool, ma'am," Replied Tom, realising that they had official company.
"Here," she placed the darkness-dissolved remains of the doll on the table. "I think you'll need to
analyze this."
"Woah, evil dolly," tutted Harry. "Like bride of chucky. Horrible creature thing."
"It's not much to look at, true, but it saved my life," Mulder gave a wry smile. "It might hold a few
clues. Tell me where you're at right now with analysis?"
"We've looked at everything," started Dick "We're playing with the particle existence theory. Where by
the atmosphere, air, is particles."
Mulder nodded, "Going on the theory that everything is, by definition, only a collection of atoms. Some
densely packed, some more random and free floating. So what's in the darkness?"
"Just harmless particles, normal make up, as you'd expect," commented Harry.
"And yet...?" Mulder sensed there was a codification coming.
"Thing is though, there is an anomalous reading," Toms' tone was almost fatalistic.
"Going on the research I've done," Mulder nodded towards the screen where she could see her ideas
displayed, "Then yes, I'd agree there must be something anomalous now."
"Have a butchers at this, Ma'am," Dick tilted in his brogue, tapping at an atmospheric analysis.
Mulder peered down the microscope. "I have no idea what I'm looking at," she admitted cheerfully.
"You'll have to explain."
"Whatcha see," said the Irishman, "Is this. A before shot of the stations' internal atmo. Neutron based
air particles, compositing of the various element. Oxygen, nitro, normal stuff.
"It's changes, an after shot. Look. It's all polarised," clarified Dick.
"I see. So what made it change?" Mulder looked between all of them.
"It changed," started Henry. "Because there was process of polarisation. An external charged, that
charged the neutral balance."
"And that would be because...?"
"The storm, Ma'am," replied Tom, ever the union mouthpiece of the three. "Particle fusion, the
electronic strike, charge and mutated the particles. Moved from neutrality, to a mutated, almost
sentient, carbon based, organic mass."
"That's what I thought," Mulder was relieved to have her personal theory vindicated, although it
opened up a whole new world of fear.
"Going on all the research I've done, and your conclusions, then the best way I can explain it is as
follows," she started pacing and speaking aloud. "There are inert particles everywhere - in the
darkness, always in the darkness. Maybe the lack of light is their natural territory. Maybe they're
completely neutral in bright light. But when there's enough of them, and when *something* polarises
them, they gain a form of quasi-sentience."
She continued, "And that something came from the Typhon Expanse. It's a cauldron of anomalies and
unquantified energy in there. That last lightening bolt must have turned the usually inert particles into
a kind of Dirty Bomb of sentience. They feed off human DNA - as witnessed by the attacks of humans
and the DNA-enhanced dolls."
"Also, going by the wealth of literature and mythology and legend over the galaxy, it's not a unique
phenomena. I guess that usually, the sentience dissipates quite quickly after a freak vitalisation. The
particles are something akin to cosmic mayflies with a limited life-span. But in this case the energy
surge was so powerful and so muddied that it gave them a strength they don't normally have."
She made to leave. "Thank you for your expert analysis, gentlemen. I'd better get on down to
engineering now. What we need.. is something to reverse the energy surge. Reverse polarity, if you
like. Before they start to develop a bigger appetite than we can cope with."
She left at a brisk run. Time was ticking.
=/\= SB BoB - Main Engineering =/\=
"...and that's the situation," Mulder finished her précis to PO Legend. "Basically, we've got a whole
shed-load of natural atomic particles gone haywire after the Typhon Expanse shot enough dirty energy
into the air filtration systems to not only activate them, but give them a taste for DNA."
"Which, according to all the mythology stories you've turned up, isn't unique, but is usually so much of
a fluke that it's never been properly categorised before."
"There you have it," Mulder tapped her hands impatiently on the console. "So that leaves the question
of what to do about it. Reverse polarity?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes..." PO Legend scratched his head. "We'll need to work out the exact
composition of the incoming energy flow, and then find a way to send a burst of negative energy
throughout all the affected conduits - and indeed, throughout the atmosphere itself.
"But it can be done?"
Legend nodded cautiously. "It's not beyond the realms of possibility. I mean, yes - in theory it should
be simple. But the tricky part is going to be analysing the exact composition of what came in before we
can antidote it, if you see what I mean?"
"Yes. I do. So you'd better get cracking before it gets even more powerful. I'd guess that the 'feeding' is
actually adding to it's strength and frankly I don't want to see what happens when it reaches optimum
power."
"Nor me," Legend shuddered. "Right.. we'll - "
He was cut off by a shout from one of the engineering crew. "Heyup, we've got a problem. There's a
report of the auxiliary power supplies that feeds the emergency lights going out on Decks seventeen
through twenty-one."
"And another.." a worried voice called out. "Main warehousing. There wasn't much there anyway, but
the power for spotlights and lamps has gone."
"Ah crap. That's more sentience that they have ever been theorised as having before," Mulder
whispered.
Legend looked interested, despite the terror. "But could that mean the birth of a whole new
sentience? Should we - "
"No." Mulder cut him off. "Forget all that 'new life and new civilisation' crap. Whatever's becoming
sentient isn't natural and it isn't normal, and it's trying to eat my crew like a human barbeque spare rib,
only without the sticky sauce. We neutralise it, and neutralise it fast!"
"Aye, captain," the reality hit home as Legend nodded. "I'll get everyone on it - and we'll work as fast as
we can."
"Do it," Mulder replied gravely, as there came another report of the lights going out even more than
they'd gone out before. "Maybe it's time to evacuate," she said bitterly.
"I don't think so, Captain," Legend looked *more* than worried now. "That last outage took out the
launch relays. We couldn't launch life-pods even if we wanted to."
"So we stand and fight." Turning away, she hit her commbadge to make a station-wide address.
"Attention all hands, this is the Captain. We have identified the cause of the danger as a freak
activation of sub-atomic particles, caused by the electrical storm. There are reaching heights of
sentience that are more deadly than anything recorded in the mythology of darkness fears before.
Engineering is working on reversing the effect, but until then you must take all precautions. The
darkness particles are now attacking subsidiary power outlets, so be aware that you must NOT get
stuck in the shadows, or it will prove fatal. Keep in the light - move if you have to, stay together and
improvise what lighting you can. Keep your nerve - we'll survive this."
She closed the comm. Now they were fighting darkness itself. And time was running out.
=^= Infirmary =^=
You could as swear that the patients were closer to each other then they were before the captain
message. Actually it even made him have goose bumps, that was also a English expression was it not,
why a goose ? Why not a duck or a rat...strange those English expression. Well actually *avoir des
sueurs froides* wasn't better, cold sweat, what did it change for the love of god...
As he was in his deep meditation on different slang from different language the room suddenly
became black. Some patient started to scream other stop almost breathing, chaos was now their first
enemy. He could hear the nurses trying to calmed the patients and the technicians trying desperately
to find a light source. He took a deep breath, L'mer had inspire him to control his emotion. Let be
honest he was not super human and stress, fear, insecurity was still very present. Logic was still
functioning, deep impulse of doing something if that meant anything was push aside to logical step. No
fire was present, no candles, no glow stick, and no backup light.
That when that light bulb of his came up over his head, He smile to bad everybody couldn't have some
ideas the station would be all light. He realise he was still a moron at times but hey, he was a man after
all. He could see all the female staff in his mind agreeing with him. He rush, hitting everything in his
passage and bumping his head multiple time to his research lab.
Again, the darkness made him hard to get to his latest project, something even Bree with his coffee
making ability would be proud of. He step out and a large bang could be heard as he busted a panel in
the main infirmary. shocking himself about a million time too many he finally touch the wire to the end
of his modern but old light bulb. Yup, he smile as the magnesium in his water tank came bright so
bright that everyone thought for a second to be walking to god.
Magnesium under current burns and the water slow the process do combustion so thus creating a long
lasting freaking strong light bulb. He turn back to the female in his head that was now applauding the
doctor "Take that ladies" A nurse turn trying to figure out what the hell he meant. He smile back
realising he spoke at loud. He look around to see the darkness moving away but in a corner , small
corner the darkness seem to fight, seem to have the will to resist. The doctor slowly avoided patients
and was walking to it.
He push people aside, from the middle of the room he could see a girl. a child with blond hair sitting
beside her mom and the shadows. For once he could see an aura, he could see black. As nurses try to
stop him, he threw the PADD, push the technician in need of assistance. They all look at him like he
was mad, he might be but the shadow was almost moving in the girls direction.
He was only a few feet now, the girls smile at him and he smile back trying not to alarm anyone. The
mom then realise the doctor was in fact moving toward them and that he wasn't coming for small talk.
She look around and notice the present shadow and started to scream. Like all natural parent she pull
on her daughter that reacted by crying. The shadow almost leap toward them both when he jump, he
jump in between. Scream, crying, lost of control. Was he dead, he couldn't hear a thing, couldn't see a
thing. That suck, if death was that awful, especially he thought at least a few cute angel could, you
know show him the divinity of love or something like that.
With that he started to think, He had a good life didn't he? He had chance to experience fun, love,
hate, he had a son...a family. He had accomplish what he wanted, he had alot to do but hey life a bitch
sometimes. You win some then you lose some. Loosing still piss him off, come on, he lost against a
shadow, not like twenty mad furious klingon arm with knife and Battle axe, or that batlegh or
something. He never were able to say that word, batlhe..He thought once dead he would come to him,
you know like who as the biggest, the captain or the counsellor, his brother had talk to him for some
insight for the bet. He had a free grab at the counsellor but it was still hard tell, you know these days
their padding that make them bigger, rounder, more left..more right. Shit that was so unfair...A man
had the right to know...did he? I mean he never disguise his male hood.
He was dead and still thinking about it, he must be in hell, boring and no women. that when he felt a
burning sensation in his lung and darkness became light.
"You piece of shit" mike was directly on top him.
That when he really came in hell with his right shoulder hurting as hell , he turn to see he shoulder, the
bone.
"You want to die or something" trying to put out the flare he had shoot.
"No, hell is boring, black mean no women " Everyone look at him like he was insane, he simply smile.
"You almost died there bud"
"Ah, the girl or me, easy choice"
"Not the most logical"
"She