Star Trek: Season 6 - Arabella

[Jen]

Doctor Ryla Drett squeezed through the opening and squirmed her way down the narrow tunnel. The Trill's headlamp illuminated the damp, limestone corridor as well as the back end of her guide Alejandro. She tried not to admire his well-formed posterior by keeping her eyes on the tread on his boots. "Yep", she thought as they crawled on their bellies through the passageway, "those are satisfactorily constructed, ground gripping treads he has there. Quality work. Superior in every way to replicated footwear... Must be handmade. Excellent choice for climbing into and out of Guatemalan caves. Yes sir-ree-Bob... those are nice boots."  Ryla smiled to herself when they came to the opening of a very large chamber, and she was able to examine something other than Alejandro's treads. The low light of their lamps scanned the interior of a monumental chamber that was reputed to be over two hundred meters long. They had entered the Tzul Tacca chamber—and she and her guide had just found a sixth entrance to the Candelaria Caves. "¡Ay Dios Mio!" he whispered excitedly. "You said it," replied Ryla as she gazed up at the stalactites suspended overhead. There was no real need to keep their voices down, but the trill did the same. The awe-inspiring beauty of the chamber demanded a sanctimonious reverence, and the two captivated cavers were all too willing to oblige. 

The environment of the cave system, was quite the contrast from the sterile corridors of the Vulcan Space Station that she left nine months before. As Ryla and Alejandro stepped lightly through the glorious subterranean hall, she couldn't help but think of the Tiberius and it's crew. She wondered where they all were. "Probably off on adventures of their own." She thought.

After the destruction of Tiberius, the crew had assembled at an abandoned station, to be held in quarantine until a cure could be found. The displaced personnel had taken it on the chin while aboard departed ship, but as the weeks stretched on, several grew frustrated and petulant. It was stressful enough being one of few individuals tasked with finding the cure, but adding irritability to illness and stacking that on top of the age old affliction of Cabin Fever, made the medical staff three times as stressed as they would ordinarily be. Captain Quinn was effective in quelling the grumbling, and for the most part it never went beyond simple complaints. Yet Ryla got to know the security personnel very well during that time, as they were frequently called upon to defuse touchy situations. There were always a few sour apples that could ruin your day in a hurry.

One sour apple in particular had taken her hostage. He demanded transport off the station and enough of the inhibitor to make it to his home world. Ensign Shreft proclaimed that the healers on his planet were more capable of curing him... but evidently, he still felt Ryla was skilled enough to keep him alive during the trip. She hadn't gone peaceably—there was quite a fight in the corridor where he cornered her. She may have been a petite, unassuming medical doctor, but she knew how to defend herself. Yet, despite her training, she failed to slow him down—he was crazed and ended up breaking her arm in the scuffle. The medical bay was a short jaunt from there but she made him drag her all the way.

Her friends in security ended the standoff several hours later. Ensign Dunn and Lieutenant's Tain, and K'tan were able to break in to the bay, disarm her captor and free the staff on duty at the time. Needless to say, the altercation slowed their progress in developing a cure, but it also damaged the equipment used in synthesizing the protein discovered in Ensign Starstriker's body. The crisis set them back a week.

Ryla stretched her right arm as the memory of the struggle with Shreft came back to her. Soon after he was apprehend, Counselor Margon diagnosed him as delusional ... a symptom that manifested back on Tiberius, as a result of the Lucas Virus. No one could rebuke him for something he had no control over, for even the first officer had irrational episodes during that time. The difference was that Commander Sevryll sought help early on. After her riotous outburst in the mess hall, she and Margon began meeting on a regular basis. Ensign Shreft was subsequently confined to quarters for the duration of quarantine. He was simply too far gone, to trust among the remaining crew.

Ryla was glad it was all over, and eager to begin her new position at the Starfleet's San Juan de Dios hospital in Guatemala City. Yet she missed the crew of Tiberius and the friendships she had formed there.

[Rico]

The tall, older man sat in a darkened corner booth in the seedy outpost bar.  He took a quick sip of something like beer from a fairly dirty glass in front of him.  He was perspiring slightly and he wasn't certain if it was from the warm air in the establishment or the nervousness he felt as he tapped the small Padd in front of him once more.  A small image appeared on the screen of himself speaking.

"I know it's been months Lydia since I was last able to get a message through to you.  Please understand for a time I wasn't sure I would get myself out of this one.  Maybe you were right when we last spoke and said that I should start to turn things over to younger hands.  But you know as well as I do that this wasn't the type of mission that I could do that with.  Just know that I love you and we will see each other soon.  Give Sam my love too.  With any luck I'll meet you on Vulcan before you know it.  Long life, my love."  And the recording ended.  The man tapped the Padd and keyed in his personal authorization code, tapping into the local comm network.  After, a moment he tapped the 'send' key and the message was on it's way.

During the next half hour the man tried to finish his drink and nibbled at the meager plate of food in front of him.  He had eaten many things in his years of travel but nothing that tasted both so sour and sweet at the same time.  When he decided he had enough he stood up and made his way to the bar.  There seemed to be a little disagreement going on, which he had been watching for a few minutes.

"I told you, warp away buddy.  I'm not interested."  The female Orion woman said to the large male pressed up next to her.  He stood well over 2 meters and was stocky.  He appeared to be a Tellarite, but his features were not as pronounced as most of that species.

"Come on, I know your species.  I've heard you know how to make any man happy."  The large person pressing up even closer to her said, breathing heavily on the Orion woman.

"Not all Orion women are slaves.  I make up my own mind about who I'm with.  And you're not on that list.  Now please leave me alone."  The green woman said as she tried to move away.  The older man reached the bar and tucked his Padd into the long coat he was wearing.

"Excuse me barkeep.  Could you tell me where docking berth 17 is at?  I've got to meet the charter I hired there."  The man said, trying to ignore the Tellarite and Orion woman.

"Sure old man.  Down the corridor, left and down one level.  Can't miss it."  The barkeep said.

"Thank you.  For your troubles."  The man said as he tossed a few credits to the barkeep.  As he moved away, he brushed up slightly against the Tellarite.

"Watch where your going Vulcan!"  The pig-like being said to him loudly.  The man could tell he was drunk and tried to move aside and headed away.  The Orion woman decided to get up and follow.

"Mind if I tag along mister?  Hey!!"  The woman yelled as the Tellarite grabbed her arm.

"We aren't done yet, honey."  He said as he pulled the woman back towards him.  She struggled and tried to break free but the Tellarite was much stronger and held her tight.  The man with the pointed ears turned around and moved up very close to the struggle.

"I think the lady said she wasn't interested.  I would suggest you let her go.  Now!"  The man said.  He was fairly tall himself, but still shorter and not nearly as massive as the large Tellarite.

"This isn't your affair, Vulcan.  Now, leave and go meet your ship."  He said with gruff reply.  Just then, the man started to laugh.  More loudly and longer than he had wanted to do.

"Oh, that felt good friend.  I can see the galaxy hasn't changed much since I've been away.  Now, I'm not used to having to repeat myself but I will ask you one more time, release the woman while your arm still works the way you like."  The laughing man with the pointed ears said with a strong air of command to it.

"You must be mad, Vulcan.  But I don't take orders from you.  Sit down sweetheart while I teach this old Vulcan who is in charge here."  The Tellarite said as he shoved the Orion woman back.  But as he turned back, the man reached out and grabbed the Tellarite's arm and swept it around behind his back while also stomping hard down on his upper hoof.  The man had learned a long time ago that Tellarite's had a very sensitive area there.  He snorted and screamed in pain as he was shoved up against the bar.  There was a quick 'pop' sound and within seconds the Tellarite was crumpled on the ground, howling in pain.

"Now, I only dislocated your arm.  Get some medical attention for that and your upper hoof and you will be fine.  Oh, and for the record.  I'm not a Vulcan."  The man said as he readjusted his coat and reached a hand out to the Orion woman.  She smiled and took his hand, following him out of the bar.

"I've never seen anyone, and no offense mister, move that fast at your age."  The Orion woman said.

"None taken.  And I might not be quite as old as you might think.  But please, call me Sirach."  The man with the pointed ears said with a slight mischievous grin.

[Meds]

The corridor was clean and smelt of fresh jasmine. Joseph walked along looking at the numbers on each door that he passed. He stopped at number 42. Looking down at the key card that Star Fleet had given him he turned it over in his fingers, apprehension came over him. This was to be his new home until someone sent him orders but did he really want to put this plastic yellow key card in the slim slot at the side of the door, he'd never really had a 'home' since he joined Star fleet, his quarters on his ship was where his life had been. Joe turned and began to walk away when a voice came from behind him.

"Hello"

Joseph turned to see a young Star Fleet officer, an ensign in her early twenties.

"Are you Joseph D'Callan?"

Joseph looked behind him for some reason and then looked back at the woman.

"Er yes, I'm sorry but how do you know who I..."

The woman interrupted him "I'm Ensign Caine. I was told to come and make sure you found your quarters okay. I see you have your card with you but you were walking in the wrong direction".
Joe walked towards her still turning the key card in his fingers.

"I gather you play poker sir"

"What makes you think that ensign?"

Caine walked towards him a smile came over her face. "You turn that card over your fingers as if they were poker chips. Typical officer play man ship sir."
She stopped the card in his fingers, their skin touched and she looked at him eyes fixed for just a second until Joseph backed away.

"Thank you Ensign that will be all"

Caine dropped her gaze, a little embarrassed, "sorry sir," she backed away with one step, turned and walked away down the corridor. Joe watched her go until she turned the corner; he dipped his head and walked in.
The first thing Joe saw was the huge window that dominated his quarters; slowly he walked to the glass and put his hands on the cold surface. He looked down and watched a turbo lift descend to the ground. The glass in front of him shimmered slightly and Joe looked up at his own reflection, his one eye began to burn.

[Geekyfanboy]

It was a beautiful day as Quinn walked through the courtyards of Starfleet Academy. He enjoyed walking the campus, this place always felt like home to him since both his parents worked at the academy and he spent most of his childhood roaming the grounds. Just a short distance from campus was his sister's café. It was a local hangout for cadets and where Quinn was meeting Nic for lunch. 

Quinn entered the café, a very beautiful woman with long braided black hair and almond shaped hazel eyes walked over to him.  She leaned in for a kiss, Hey sweetie, your regular table?" Quinn returned the kiss, "Thanks sis, I'm meeting Nic for lunch." Jennifer gave him a quick smile and wink and returned to greeting another customer that just entered. Nathan looked around the room at all the young cadets excited about the upcoming graduation. There were only four days left in the semester.

Nic entered the café and quickly spotted Nathan. He smiled and walked over to the table. He bent down and planted a kiss on Nathan cheek. "I'm sorry I'm late," Nic said as he took the chair opposite of Nathan. Quinn smiled "That's okay I just got here myself." Nic looked across the table. "So what's this big news you were so excited to tell me", Quinn had a sheepish expression on his face, "Well I spoke with Admiral Decker today and he wants to meet with me at 1400 hours to discuss a proposition." Nic sat up straight, "Really, do you think they are going to offer you another command? I mean you've been out of commission for a year now." "I know but I have my job here at Starfleet Academy" Quinn said as he examined his glass of water. "Come on.. stop fooling yourself Nat.. you know you were born to command, it's in your blood." Nic said this a little louder then he had planned as cadets in the adjoining tables stopped eating and gave them a look. All Quinn had to do was give the cadets a quick raise of the eyebrow and they quickly went back to eating their lunch. "Yes I am looking forward to commanding a Starship one day, but when the time is right I'll be given another command."

Jennifer walked over to the table and gave Nic a kiss, "Hey sweetie, are you guys still coming to dinner tomorrow night?" Nic gave Nathan a look, "Yes we planned on it.. Nathan might even have some exciting news." Before Jennifer could ask what news, a blond petite woman came walking in to the café, spotted Nathan and walked over. A surprised looked came across Quinn's face. "Madison, what are you doing here?" "Well hello to you too Natty, my baby sister is graduating this week." She said as she hugged Jennifer a hello. Quinn realized that Nic was eyeing Madison. "Oh I'm sorry, Nic this is Madison... umm we use to date."  Quinn said quickly. "Date!!" Madison said out loud, "We were Academy sweethearts." Nic raised an eyebrow at Nathan. Who quickly looked at Jennifer for help. "It's been a while since we have chatted, why don't you come to the counter and we can catch up" Jennifer said as she grabbed Madison by the arm and began to pull her away from the table. Madison smiled and yelled back "It was nice meeting you Nic... Good luck with holding on to that one." And she laughed. Nathan turned several shades of red. A huge smile spread across Nic's face. "I knew of course you were in relationships before me but I never thought she would be your type" Quinn gave Nic a quizzical look, "Blond, I always thought you liked brunettes." Quinn and Nic both laughed as Jennifer gave Quinn a – You own me big time – kind of look as she nodded polity as Madison continued to talked and talked and talked.

[moyer777]

The sun beemed down in the meadow.  Birds sang and the wind blew through the big lofty trees.  The horse pawed at the ground and bent down to munch on the green grass.  The banner blew back and forth and the smell of a campfire wifted through the air.

"I have found you!  Unhand her you fiend!" shouted the swordsman as he pointed his foil at the Bajoran man. 

"You will never take me alive!" said the Nemesis-  "She is mine, and that is all there is to it!"

The castle looked so regal in the backround as they stood just outside the wooded area to the North.

The tall slender swordsman began to duel with the Bajoran.  The swords clanged together methodically as it appeared difficult for the Bajoran man to keep his sword swinging.  CLANG!  SLICE!  The swordsman belted the man upside his armoured head.  "mmmmuuughhh" came the muffles sounds of pain.  He lifted his sword up and then just stood there.  His arms gave away and the sword came falling to the ground only to stick in standing straight up.

The girl with the silk cone shaped hat that had pink satin draped down her head yelled out "Help me brave sir!"

"Computer" he yelled, "Pause program" 

The princess he was guarding stood still and the breeze quit blowing.  The smoke in the air paused and just hung in front of the men.

"Hey, who stopped the program" shouted Margon as the hollo deck doors opened. "I was monitoring everything and then it just all stopped, just when it was getting corny!"  He smiled.

J'dan looked annoyed.  "The sword is too heavy, geez, my arm is killing me"

"That's because... because... you aren't holding it rrr.. rright." stammered the other swordsman.  He pulled off his helmet  to reveal sweat beaded up on his forhead. 

"Lt. Barkley" said Margon, "can we change the weight on this weapon?" 

"We can change it, but it won't have the same effect, I thought you wanted this to be real, reala, realistic" he managed to get out.

"Yes, I do, but it will be of no use in therapy if I have to have my patients visit the medical doctor after their visits!"
He smiled.

Reg shook his head and called out "Computer- Arch"  the arch appeared next to him as he pulled off his bulky leather glove.  Poking at the keypad he looked at J'dan-  "How's that" 

J'dan pickep up his sword in an Aurthertarian pull. It lunged upward as the weight shifted.  J'dan knocked him self in the chin.  "Ouch!"

Barkley winced.  "Sorry, Sorry!"

Margon rolled his eyes and laughed.  "You guys are a real kick to work with, Deanna said it would be a fun experience for me!" 

Reginald Barkley was a fine officer and a talented holo programer.  The man was so immersed in his work that Margon had marveled at his dedication and creativeness.  It had been a perfect fit for the Counselor.  He would recite a case to Barkley and then talk about what experiences it would take for people to deal with their fears or circumstances and Mr. Barkley would suggest different scenarios to program.  He had a knack for the art of escape.  He could make you believe you were really in the world that would help you. 

J'dan was along for the ride.  He was working part time at the Captains Chair tending bar, but during the day he had volunteered his services to the father of his late friend Brex. 

They had been working on many projects and were happy with the results.  The programs would soon be complete for the counslor's library.  He would use them as prototypes and hopefully with any success he could distribute them to other counselors in Starfleet.  Holo-therapy was surely going to catch on.  With the new enhancements to most of the deep space starships they were sure to help the crew mentally on their missions.  It was the counselor's experience that people made significant improvement when holo therapy was used.  He was bound and determined to prove that to Starfleet command.

"I need to get going boss" J'dan smiled as he took off his breastplate.  I'm almost up for my shift.  You guys work this knight in shining armour thing out, I'll try a stab at it tomorrow" he stopped. "No pun intended, man I've got a headache."

"Sorry, again" said Barkley.

"In the meantime J'dan, you should lift weights or something."  said Margon, he smiled. 

J'dan just looked at him with a smirk.  "Yeah, I'll do that."

[ElfManDan]

David rushed down the hall towards his room. The doors opened when  they sensed his presents outside. David couldn't figure it out, "how did Dylan get in?" he thought. He didn't take notice of the mess that Ghee, his Andorian roommate had made in the communal area. He went passed through the little door that separated clean from mess. Dylan sat smugly on the bed.
"Dylan how did you get in?"
"Ghee let me in the front door, those locks are pretty much unpickable trust me I've tried, but the room doors are easy to get past."
David looked around the room a quick glance checking his things. He quickly noticed his Constitution Class Ship model was moved slightly. Caleb knew very well next to it should have sat his small Shuttle Model that came with the large.
"Dylan where's the shuttle?"
"I don't know nothing about your shuttle."
"Dylan, you put it in your bag." He said snatching the bag away from Dylan before he could stop him. Reaching inside he pulled it out he set it back up.
"How do you always know?"
"You're my little brother, I know you way too well. Doesn't really matter I want to know what you did?"
"Yeah, I need some help, I'm in a little trouble."
"Dylan I can't always rescue you when you get yourself into trouble."
"It's my roommate, he's got this rock collection. When one of them went missing he immediately accused me of stealing it."
"So did you?"
"Yeah course it was me, that's besides the point, I need to get it back to make it look like I didn't take it. Problem is I can't go back to the room cause if he's there I know he'll kill me."
"So you want me to go in your room and sneak it back into his collection?"
"Yes."
"No, I'm not getting involved, I have had it up to here with your trouble."
"What happened David, you used to always do these things for me?"
"That was before, I stopped when...it don't matter anymore. My plan is to live a productive life and you should start trying to do the same."
"David, just help me this one last time." Dylan gave David a look of complete distress trying his best to get sympathy, "Please"
"Fine, I'll do it, but this is the last time got that. Give me the rock."
Dylan pulled the rock out of his bag and handed it to David.
"Now get out of my room."
"Thanks Davs you're the best." He said just after he had left the clean room.
"Yeah, the best." David thought to himself how those words could change when this was all over.

[X]

"James to Chief Cane," Aeric said after he tapped his communications badge. He sat behind the glass topped desk of the office that had been assigned to him during his tenure as Commander of Fleet Yard Operations. It had been nine months since he agreed to accept the post and his office had begun to slowly transform into a home away from home. Holo-pictures of Aria and Beth sat on the desk while other images of them in their home on vulcan were displayed on once bare walls. There were half a dozen PADDs scattered about the surface of his desk. Each was either a report on the activities of the berths or the production reports of the main fabrication facility.

"Cane here," replied the gruff southern accent of one of fleet yard's many onsite engineers. Currently Cane found himself in a full environmental suit as he walked the surface of the unnamed Akira class as several dozen crew members, both on foot and in workbees, applied the final coating of paint. "How can I help you sir?"

"I've just ended my meeting with Admiral Carpenter and they have decided to finally assign the Akira a registry and name." Aeric said as he shuffled through the PADDs to pull up the notes that he had taken during the conversation. "They want us to have the final painting done within the week."

"Sir, we are almost done with the final coat." Cane relayed. "I'm sure that we can have the detail work done long before the deadline."

"Thank you chief." Aeric said as he pressed a few keys on his PADD. "I'm transmitting the new registry and name to you now."

"Wow." Cane said as the new information displayed itself on the visor of his environmental suit. "I think that this is going to make a lot of people happy. How did you manage to get them to reinstate her so quickly?"

"It wasn't my doing. It seems that names carry weight and she created a legacy when she was sacrificed to save so many." Commander James said. While he was one of the people that wanted the name to live on, Aeric could only offer recommendations. He couldn't use his position for what might have appeared to be a personal agenda. "In fact, we have the Vulcan's to thank for this. They thought that it would be fitting that a ship that was sacrificed over Vulcan would be one of the first built in the new fleet yards."

"We'll treat her like the lady she is sir," Jacob Cane said as he began to move towards the airlock of the great ship. "We'll make sure that she's all dressed and has her makeup on before the ball starts."

"Thank you chief." Aeric said as he began to write new orders. With a name and registry approved, he needed to get the information to the support craft construction teams. It would be their task to mark each of the new shuttles destined for the ship with her name. "I've transmitted orders to the Auxiliary Craft teams to begin their final paintings."

"We will have everything under control." Cane said as the airlock cycled and allowed him entry into the ship. "I should have an update for you by the time of the staff briefing."

"Thank you chief. James out."

Aeric closed the channel and rose from his desk. From the port window, he had a spectacular view of the ship in question. He could only admire her lines as she floated in her construction berth. The beautiful red orb that was Vulcan hung behind her and only served to make her seem that much more radiant. Soon she would have a name again and return flying between the planets and across the infinite gulf of stars.

She would be better than she was before. The crew working on her gave her new tools and technologies that did not exist during her first life. The very systems that were a key to causing her last flight had been updated and improved so that it would not happen again. She was outfitted with better shields and sensors than her previous design. She would be a home again and she deserved to be.

Her return would not bring back the lives of those who died on her before, but she would be given the opportunity to save more lives. She would be given the chance to return to the line and defend the weak. She was being given the chance to add her own adventures to the legacy of the ship that had gone before her. Aeric smiled softly as he leaned his head against the cool window and watched her. Construction crews scurried over her pristine hull like tiny ants. The thick black unfilled outline of registry and name slowly carved itself into the rich gray paint of the hull.

Aeric placed his hand on the cool glass and whispered. "My new friend, my you always sail true with the wind forever behind your sails and a safe harbor to call home."

[Omra]

The staff struck her forearm, she grimaced and tried to channel the pain.  Use it to fuel her anger and quicken the change.  But the blows just continued, distracting her from changing into her War Form.  The blows were not crippling, but were centered upon nerve clusters, the flood of pain signals overloaded her brain.  She could not even maintain her balance, she fell to the ground ungracefully.  The blows ceased, they had made their point, no need to continue.  Shyn laid on the ground in agony, humiliated.

When the red haze lifted from her vision, she could see Korridan standing over her.  "What good are emotions like anger, passion, or vengeance," he chastised her, "If they force you into a 'Change' leaving you vulnerable?"  He shook his head, "Had this been a real battle, you would be dead."  He poked her with his staff, "are you listening?"

She growled and swatted his staff away.  He laughed, "was that a 'yes' or just a primitive response?"  She gave him a feral glare.  He leaned closer, "Hmmmm, I see some hint of intelligence in there."  He moved away so she could get up.

"Your first mistake," he began his lecture, "was giving in to your anger."  She struggled to get up, as he preached,"Your second mistake was to just stand there and try to block my blows."  He shook his head, "If you were trying to impress me with your high pain threshold you failed."  She was dusting herself off, trying hard not to look like she was in pain. 

He ignored her attempt to regain composure, "you must always do one of two things," he glared at her, "either avoid the strike, or deflect the energy of the strike away from you."  He stamped his staff on the ground, "Raising Shields and trading blows is for drunken bar brawls, and capitol ships."  Shyn looked properly mollified.

He continued, "Your species is used to dueling for dominance and position within your pack, or pride."  He shook his head, "Blustering, and trying to intimidate, is a waste of time and energy; and being the last one standing after trading blows is just plain stupid macho nonsense."  She gave him an irritated look, but she was listening.  "And why is it stupid?" he watched her warily, "what if it turns out you have more than one opponent?"  She perked up at that.  "If you are seriously damaged after fighting the first opponent," he explained, "how are you going to deal with the rest that come after you?"  Her tail thrashed from side to side as she digested the information.

He waited patiently, he had insulted her species fighting style, but his words held truth she had never considered before.  She grudgingly admitted, "You are right, there is no wisdom in allowing yourself to take damage you can avoid."  She rotated her joints trying to loosen them, "it will impede your ability to fight and defend yourself against any unforeseen foes."  But she would not look at him.

He lightly smiled, "And by redirecting the energy from an opponents attack," he paused for effect, "you can pull them off balance, and put them into a vulnerable position."  Shyn looked up, smiling, her sharp teeth showing, eager to learn.

"Let me show you some techniques," he bowed.  They sparred until the sun began to set, there were no lights in the ancient arena, the Vulcan's had not wished to marr the appearance of the relic. 

That evening Shyn sat in the darkness of her room meditating.  Her muscles and joints ached from their workout, but she was proud of what she had learned that day.  It had been painful letting go of the old ways, but she promise in her future for the first time in a long while. 

[wraith1701]

As he lay on the rock strewn mesa, K'Tan silently cursed the heat.  With a sigh, he slowly lowered his binoculars and used his free arm to wipe away the perspiration pouring down his face.  K'Tan couldn't decide which was worse; the rays of the vulcan sun beating mercilessly down on his back, or the waves of heat relentlessly emanating from the scorched ground on which he lay.  A stray rivulet of sweat found its way into his eye; his vision momentarily blurred from the sting.  Blinking rapidly, he cleared his eyes and once again raised the battered and dusty binoculars to his face.  Reacting to the minute flexing of the muscles of K'Tan's eyes, the binoculars quickly clicked into focus, zooming in on his target lying several kilometers away.  It was a small, primitive, dome-shaped structure; a humble building that appeared to be crudely constructed from native clay.  Both the hazy, wavering heat-shimmer rising from the sun scorched desert plain and the off-tan coloring of the structure conspired to hide it among the similarly colored sand dunes surrounding it. 

Today marked the fifth day of K'Tan's silent vigil; his incommunicado observation of the lone hut had become the focus of his existence ever since his contacts tipped him off that his quarry might be showing up there.  So far, however, his efforts were bearing no fruit; there was as yet no sigh of the elusive Sehlat.  Correction; not Sehlat, Dr. T'Priss.  k'Tan chuckled ruefully as he recalled how elated he and the others had felt once Lucas' conspirator had been tracked down.  Each of the survivors had been relieved that she would be brought to trial for her crimes.  Although it had been almost a year ago, he still remembered his own vicious joy as though it were only a day ago.  And worse, he keenly recalled the crushing despair and frustration he had felt when she had managed to escaped punishment for her crimes. 

So many dead!  Innocent men, women and children cut down by an invisible enemy, never understanding exactly what was happening as their minds and bodies were mercilessly devoured by Lucas and T'Priss' little pet project.  Curse the vulcans and their logic-driven, pacifist ideals!  Had T'Priss been subject to Klingon justice, she would have been killed immediately, not given the chance to escape while her fate was discussed in useless bureaucratic debate.  She had to pay.  Only then would her victims have a chance to rest in peace.

  K'Tan thought back on Lt. Stass, the brave security officer of the late Tiberius that he had only just gotten to know.  She had the heart of a warrior, he thought grimly.  Risking her life to save a little girl and her ailing father, only to succumb to the virus herself days after their arrival on the Vulcan space station.  If only she had held on for a few more days, he lamented.  Once acquired, the cure had been administered to the crew in time to save the little girls' father, but a day too late to help Tara Stass. 

A sudden movement near the distant hut snapped K'Tan back to the here and now.  Dialing up the magnification on his binoculars, he spied a lone ground transport speeding towards the isolated structure.  Twin plumes of dust were kicked up in the vehicle's wake as it came to a stop.  A lone, robed figure emerged and hastily made it's way inside. 

A comfortably familiar feral grin settled on K'Tans' face as he silently checked his gear: the type-II phaser rifle was strapped firmly to his back, it's matte-black finish precluding the risk of any telltale glare or reflection.  His Dak'Tagh was still firmly nestled in a well-oiled sheath on his right thigh.  And the length of fiber-steel binding cable lay in a tightly coiled loop at his waist. 

As the fiery sun continued it's stately march towards the horizon, K'Tan settled in to await nightfall.  This would end tonight.  Alive or dead, Lucas' widow would be brought in to face justice. A small, atavistic voice in K'Tan's mind silently hoped for the later...

[Geekyfanboy]

Quinn walked down the corridors of Starfleet headquarters heading to Admiral Decker's office. He was nervous yet very excited. He didn't want to get his hopes up but he couldn't help but remember the last word the Admiral said in their conversation "Captain". Was that a hint of a possible command? He would find out in a few moments as he rung the bell and heard a familiar voice say "Come".

The door slid open and Admiral Decker stood and approached Quinn with an outstretched hand. Quinn grasped it in both of his hands and shook. "It's good to see you Nathan" Decker said has he gesture for Quinn to sit in the chair opposite his desk.

Quinn smiled "You too Sir," and sat down.  "Would you like anything to drink," Decker asked has he walked over to the replicator. "Water is fine," Quinn said quietly.

Decker brought over a glass of water and handed it to Quinn while he sat down a cup of tea on his desk and returned to his seat. "So" Admiral Decker started "The school year is coming to an end, I know this was just an temporary assignment, but have you decided what you would like to do next."

Quinn sat there for a moment thinking to himself, was this a test, the Admiral knew exactly what Quinn wanted to do next. Did he just want to hear Quinn say it?

Quinn took a sip of water, "Well, I enjoyed my time at the Academy but it's been a year since I lasted commanded a Starship, and I agreed with Starfleet when they asked me to take some time off but I think it's time for me to get back out there....Sir"

A smile broke across Decker's face. "Starfleet couldn't agree more, they have authorized me to offer you another command."

Quinn smiled broadly but had to hold in his excitement, this is what he has been wanting the past few months. Not only was he not sure if they would let him back on a ship but to command a ship as her Captain.

Decker stood and Quinn followed. "We have one very special ship picked out for you already, it's one of the new ships built at the Vulcan Fleet Yard... Congratulations." Decker put out his hand for Quinn to shake, Quinn grasped it firmly and shook. "Thank you Admiral, you don't realize what this means to me." Decker smiled " I believe I do, I wasn't always an Admiral you know." Quinn smiled and gave him a nod before turning and exiting the Admirals office.

[ElfManDan]

David walked down the hall to his brother's room. He wasn't nervous because he had to sneak the rock back into the collection, but having to deal with Dylan's roommate. He was considering just telling him. He had hopes that the kid would be small and not a fighter. David was sure he could hold his own, but getting in a fight also included getting in trouble. That was something he really didn't want to deal with as close as he was to finishing his academy days with a clean record. He approached the door slowly. He knocked, but there was no noise from the other side. "Probably out looking Dylan" David thought. He used the code Dylan had given him and the door opened with ease. He stepped in and a quick glance of the room he went strait to using the directions Dylan had given him. He stood in front of the student's door. He knocked, but the only thing he heard was an echo. He looked at the rock then at the door, it would be easy to pick, but did he real want to have to that. Not just set free his brother from pain or punishment, but do something illegal. He made a quick decision and began pressing away at the door panel and it took only a second and the door opened. He slowly walked into the room. He saw the large collection of rocks. So many colors shines off their smooth surfaces. He wiped off the rock with a small white towel and set it on the floor underneath the table, which displayed the collection. He moved quickly back into the hallway. He walked away from the room down the hall as if nothing had happened and if everything went as planned nothing did happen.

[Jen]

The Trill shook the water out of her short, blond hair then wiped the sides of her face with the palm of her hands, clearing the mud and revealing her spots. During the hike from the cave to the transporter station, the jungle had quickly become a colossal mud puddle. A thunderhead split its purple underbelly and spilled its contents over the rain forest, making their trek back a precarious one. She had slipped more than once on the trail and coated herself with a thick brown layer of jungle muck that camouflaged her spots and stained her clothing. But Ryla Drett never let a little dirt ruin her day, and she wore a smile in spite of it all.

The doctor stepped onto the pad with her guide and activated the transporter. A moment later, a shimmering eddy of particles pooled to form the petite trill, mud in all, in the center of Guatemala City, Guatemala. The passerby's glanced at her curiously as she said good-by to Alejandro and strode toward the building where her apartment and a hot shower awaited her. Ryla wasted no time in scaling the three flights of stairs that led to her floor. She practically ran up them in order to avoid her chatty neighbor. It wasn't that she didn't like him; he was just difficult to get away from, as he always caught her at inconvenient times and had the propensity to yammer on until he was blue in the face. George was a talker, and he never seemed to take a breath in between his lengthy diatribes. Just as Ryla was certain she had escaped his notice, she ran into George at the top of the stairs. The short, stout young man carried a chubby brown Chiuaua under his right arm and wore a concerned look on his equally chubby face.

"There you are! I've been looking for you all day." Ryla forced a smile as the dark haired man shuffled quickly towards her door, to cut her off. "Pepe is sneezing, I think he's allergic to Mrs. Delgado's cat. You know how he loves felines, but the feeling is never mutual. Adagio is a volatile Persian and I think he may have gotten some of his dander on Pepe when he sprang on him from the window this morning. Pepe was frightened initially, but when he realized it was just Adagio he stopped barking and started sniffing." He lifted Pepe and pushed him towards Ryla so the trill could appreciate the dog's affliction. Her smile transitioned to a bewildered grimace. In the canine's bulging brown eyes was the hint of pure humiliation, as George turned the little thing back towards himself to touched noses with him. The dog released a whimper of quiet disgrace as his master began speaking baby talk to him, "that's when I think Pepe may have inhaled the dander...yes he did.... Yesss he diiid."  The dog sneezed, and George shifted the canine back under his arm once more.  "Anyway, he's been sneezing ever since and his eyes are all gookie... I saw a piece on the Federation News Network all about Canine allergies and how they can potentially be life-threatening.  As you know, Pepe is very hypersensitive... the first person I thought of who was qualified enough to cure him was you, Ryla. Certainly you have a antihistamine or something you could administer to him... he suffering."

The OBGYN patted Pepe on the head as she stepped toward her door. "George, I'm a people doctor... not a puppy doctor. Remember?   Pepe should see a veterinary specialist, not some low life who delivers babies." She added with a genuine smile.
"He'll be fine— just take him down to the veterinary clinic. They'll know exactly what to do."  The door to her apartment opened and George started to follow Ryla inside. The trill turned, and blocked him from entering by remaining just inside the doorway, "I'll talk to you later, OK?" Pepe sneezed again—his watering, saucer-sized brown eyes begged for rescue. "He looks like he could use a walk. Why don't you take him to chase the pigeons?" The little dog's ears perked up at the utterance of the word. "You see there? He likes pigeons!" The chiuaua's tail began to wag at the prospect of hounding flocks of birds in the park.

"Maybe you're right..." said the man as he lifted the dog to eye level.

"Good-bye Pepe," replied the Trill as she started to close the door.

"Hey, you're all muddy!" George finally realized, as the Trill closed the door.

"Good-bye George!" she said with a chuckle. As the mud-covered trill made her way to the shower, she paused at her cluttered desk in the small dining room—there was a message waiting for her on the terminal." Ryla stopped long enough to read the message while she removed her messy boots, one at a time and dropped them on the floor along with her socks.

A smile crossed her face,"well... will wonder's never cease?" She exclaimed as she completed the short communiqué and replied with one of her own.

"Long time no see Mackie. A cup of coffee sounds great, but this time you're buying!"

[KingIsaacLinksr]

"Self-destruct in 10 seconds."

"Self-destruct in 5 seconds."
4
3
2
1
Boom.  The Tiberius' hull blew apart with a force uparaleled.  Screaming into space and darkness, the Tiberius had protected the planet below known as Vulcan.

At that same moment, a young Bajoran named Rava Ronan jumped at the sound of banging on his door. Lately, he had enjoyed his position aboard a Galaxy-class starship known as the Trident. As the door opened, he turned and  saw Lieutenant Takahashi in the entry wearing an irritated expression.  "Explain why you have, once again, not shown for work Rava," said Romeo in an angry voice.  His southern accent revealed itself as he chastised Ronan for being absent to work and told him to report to the first officer immediately.

Andorian Commander Desma was in deep thought.  "Such a nice day aboard the Trident.  No problems, no war, no strange happenings.  I hope it stays like this for at least today."  That peace was soon disturbed by the chime of his badge.  "Commander, I'm sending Rava Ronan to you.  He'll explain why.  Takahashi out".  He's obviously upset about something thought the Andorian.  So much for peace.

The Andorian looked down at his padd and input Rava Ronan's name. Soon after,  it displayed the Bajoran's history.  "Nothing odd here, but Romeo quite frequently complains about the young man's flakiness.  I guess it's time to figure out what is going on." he said to himself.

The door chimed, "Enter!" said Desma.  Rava Ronan stepped into Ready Room—looking quite uncomfortable.  "I assume there is a reason for Lt. Takahashi's order to send you here Rava. I don't want to hear the reason.  Rava, I'll be blunt, your record is starting to paint an ugly picture of your future.  You're apparently late to work, absent-minded while at work, or you miss work completely. Laziness will not be tolerated here, Rava."

Rava Ronan wanted to reply to the statements, but stopped himself.  There is obviously something going on, but I think the counselor should figure out what that something is.

"You will report to Zak Kebron and you will be assessed whether you are fit for duty or not.  I do not want to hear anymore about this business Rava" stated Desma.

"Yes Sir!" and Rava turned around and walked out the Ready Room with a first officer shaking his head.

King

[Omra]

Korridan watched the young Phen'rell, she was quick and deadly, but undisciplined.  And easy to tease and distract...  "Haven't you wondered why after 6 months you haven't been posted?"  Asked Korridan.  Shyn grimaced, saying nothing; she knew he was trying to goad her.

They continued to circle each other, the hard baked clay beneath their feet.  Shyn with her claws out, Korridan twirling his staff in lazy figure eights.

"Good test scores don't make you smart," Korridan teased her, "it just means you are good at memorization."  Shyn's eyes started to change color.  "Your race is related to the Eeiauo aren't they?" he smiled.  Shyn growled but refused to answer, she knew that he was aware of the answer to that; he was trying to get her to lose control.  "The Eeiauo have photographic memories," he matter of factly said, "so you didn't even have to be good at memorization, you just had a genetic advantage."

Shyn lashed out, he batted her claw away with his staff.  And counterstruck her along the side of her head with his staff.  "Ooops," he joked, "I hope I didn't make you forget something."  Shyn rubbed her head, "Ouch, there go the piano lessons..."

They laughed and then settled back into fighting stances, circling once more, looking for openings.  "Real knowledge comes from the application of what you have learned," he smirked, "not vomiting up what you have heard or read onto a paper."  He watched her eyes, they were red now, but she did not fury.  She was doing much better.

She feigned a claw strike, drawing his staff out, throwing him off balance.  She pulled on the staff and foot swept him, dropping him to the floor of the arena, he rolled as he hit.  Her claw struck the clay where he had just been, she ducked knowing his staff would soon come, and it whistled over her head.  And then predicting his next movement dove to where he would need to step to keep his balance, it worked, it through him off.  She rolled as she hit the ground, scissoring his legs with her own, taking him down hard.  As she came up for her finishing blow, the end of his staff was waiting for her.  It stopped her in mid strike.

He laughed, "Well done, you never could have done that without a clear head."  She continued to stare at the end of his staff, stuck in front of her face.  "Oh sorry," it moved from her vision, to be replaced by an extended hand.  He helped her up, "Do you see now how a clear mind is better than one clouded by anger?"

She nodded, "Yes Master Splinter..."  He slapped her on her shoulder, "Go hit the shower, and then practice your meditation until I have dinner ready."

As she left the arena her fine hearing could hear him talking to someone, but could hear no answers.  And yet it was a clear and continuous conversation.  She shook her head, "crazy old man..."

[Ricardocameron]

=/\=

Approximately one Terran year after the destruction of the USS Tiberius.....

   The wailing howl shattered his dreams-sleep like a photon torpedo through an unshielded hull.  Startled awake, Ensign Taryn Rayna leaped up, shaking with fear and groped for his service phaser.  Through the fog of sleep, he tried to orient himself to his surroundings-a small cave, a stifling-hot orange haze, rust-colored stone, sandy soil, minimal lichen-like vegetation.  The howl sliced through his consciousness again. Closer, but not dangerously so, if his estimation was correct.  Perhaps half a kellicam, but hard to tell in the desert. Then, the light of realization dawned like the blazing orange sun, peering menacingly over the rim of the nearby ridge.  "Just a Sehlat, I suppose...probably out looking for breakfast," he mumbled to himself, unconvinced.  "Well, it's not going to be me," he thought, "the Sandfire storm's ended anyway, so it's time to cut this little 'Spiritual Retreat' short."

  Shouldering his pack, Ensign Rayna clambered up the ridge, trying to determine the howl's direction.  He had heard that Sehlats usually stayed close to the valley floors, and were mainly nocturnal, but he was taking no chances.   This was not just any desert on Vulcan.  This was the infamous area appropriately named 'The Forge', and many strange tales were born here.  He reached an ancient pathway leading to his shuttle's LZ, a kellicam away.  The path continued on across the Forge to the site of Mount Seleya, the most sacred mountain on Vulcan, where Surak formulated his philosophy of  logic in the 3rd century, and where rituals such as the Kahs-wan and Kolinahr often took place.

  Taryn reached the ridge top and stopped.  He scanned the area below, squinting in the harsh light, even through his sun-visor.  Half-Vulcan though he was, he was born without the "inner-eyelid" nictating membrane most others of Vulcan blood posessed as protection from the harsh environment.  Hearing, and more importantly, seeing nothing more, he turned and began the trek back to his shuttle.  After 3 1/2 months of quarantine looking down on Vulcan from a space station, He was glad to be walking his ancestral homelands once again.

   The howl again unnerved him, but the scream stopped him short.  "THAT'S no Sehlat!", he thought.  Looking around below, he spotted a Sehlat chasing a young Vulcan boy into a small rock-strewn grotto--a dead-end-- which the boy found out, but all too late.  apparently, the Sehlat had cornered his breakfast.  Rayna dashed down the slope, slipping and sliding and desperately waving his arms and shouting.

  He saw the boy attempt to climb a boulder one-armed, as he clutched a small bundle in the other.  He slipped and fell to the ground, gave up and began to throw stones at the Sehlat instead.  The Sehlat paced around for a moment, then charged.  Ensign Rayna reached the valley floor and sprinted the short distance to the grotto's entrance.  He fired as soon as he was within range. The animal disintegrated to reveal the boy lying on the ground, his copper-green blood steadily staining the rocky ground below him.  Rayna ripped off his tunic and tried to staunch the blood flow.  The boy clutched tightly to the bundle with both hands, whispering something Vulcanian.  Taryn knelt to him, knowing he could do nothing for the boy now, other than provide comfort for him.  Fighting back tears he spoke softly to him and gently touched his hand.  A wave of sound and pain, images and emotions  flooded his mind---"Could he be part Betazed?" thought Rayna---as the images of family, friends, the Sehlat and it's lair and cub, rituals, and finally the boys mother swept over him.  As the boy died, with his last strength, he pressed the bundle to Taryn's hands and breathed the word "Katra".  His face hot, Ensign Rayna blinked back waves of tears as he said farewell to the boy.  The bundle moved in his hands! 

He nearly dropped it in his astonishment.  It was a newborn Sehlat cub.  No, it was more...perhaps, it now held the boy's Katra.  And, if the dead Sehlat was indeed it's mother, it would need to be cared for.   Heading back to the shuttle after performing the boy's burial rites as best he could,  Rayna pondered the child's reasons for taking the cub, and why a child seemingly so young would be undertaking the Kahs-wan.
Bewildered, Taryn set a course for the Shikahr Academy.  He felt the need to confer with his father, who was on temporary teaching duty there, and seek some answers  to these dilemmas.  He still had to decide whether to return to Mars Station, Utopia Planitia(the 'Nowhere Plain')Fleet Yards and accept Starfleet's newest offer of re-assignment as a Medical Assistant to the construction crew there.  His father was pushing him to resign his Starfleet commision, accept the Bracchus Physical Sciences Scholarship, and remain on Vulcan to study viruses like those that had disabled the Tiberius.  Quarantine and an extended shore leave were now at an end, but he still found it hard to decide......
Starfleet or The Vulcan Science Academy would have to wait just a little bit longer.

=/\=