Star Trek: Season 9

[Meds]

JOINT POST BY JEN & HAWKEYEMEDS

D'Callan gave a yawn and put the PADD into his pack. It had been an eventful day.  He'd completed his investigation, had a bite to eat with an interesting Ferengi and was about to head back to the Arabella to hand his report to the captain, when his com badge chirped.

"Lieutenant Commander D'Callan... Report to Brig Level 2"

D'Callan looked confused a moment then he remembered seeing a brawl in the bar on the opposite side of the communal area. "Oh no, not now..." he sighed and tapped his badge, "Alright...I'm on my way."

Ensign Bowers straightened as the Brig warden pointed in his direction.  Peering round the corner was an angry looking Joseph D'Callan. Talon watched as the Arabella's Chief Of Security held something out to the Bajoran.  The Ensign banged his head slowly against the cell wall as the force field was deactivated. The pain in his head would be nothing compared to going back to the Arabella with D'Callan.

"Stand Up, Ensign!"

Bowers stood to attention, even though the rush of blood to his head caused his migraine to intensify.

Joseph stepped into the cell and clasped his hands behind his back, "Do you know what I've been doing during my shore leave?" He whispered harshly.

Bowers shook his head and looked down.

"LOOK AT ME! "

The Chief Of Security glared into the Ensign's face until his bloodshot eyes met his own.

"I've been investigating your damn incident. I've spent my entire shoreleave looking after you, and now I'm called here to bail you out again!? "

Bowers eyes darted away for a second before turning a scowl back at his superior.

Talon flinched as Joseph put his hand on his shoulder. He was expecting a blow.

"What am I going to do with you Mr. Bowers? Look..sit down."

He pressed on Talon's shoulder and the Ensign sat on the bed. Joseph stared down at him for a second before deciding to sit next to him.

"I told you to make an appointment with Counselor Margon after the fight you started with Ensign Porter in the turbolift. You haven't seen him have you? You need to get this worked out or your going to be discharged. I can't have unstable officers in my department. I won't put up with it, and neither will the captain."

"I'm not dependable. You might as well discharge me, sir."

Joseph looked about the cell and sighed, "Everyone has moments, son. You are not the first Starfleet officer to be in this position."

Talon shook his head. "It's all my fault she died sir... and the entire ship will eventually know it. I can't face them...and I can't face her.

Joseph cocked his head to one side and stood up, "They will find out the truth soon enough, but you have to face that truth yourself. Now come on. It's time we went home. I want you to make that appointment with Counselor Margon...that's an order."

Talon slowly nodded.

"Come on, Son. Time to go."

[Rico]

"That's so amazing!"  Lieutenant Zremm said as his hand rested gently on Marie Barton's rather good sized belly.  He felt another good kick under his blue hand as he smiled wide at the woman laying next to him.

"He, or she seems to be a restless one sometimes.  This has been going on for a little while now.  Maybe all the excitement today got them worked up."  The young blonde engineer said as she took her hand and placed it over Zremm's, guiding him across her very pregnant body.

"I know we stayed longer than you wanted at the ceremony but I know we both felt it was important.  You sure the Doc says everything is ok with you and the baby?"  Zremm said, trying to keep his emotions in check and pulling on Vulcan techniques he had studies for many years, but always found difficult to master to any real degree.  He wished at times for his friend Sevryll's ability and control.

"Yes, now stop being a mother-Andorian and just enjoy the life we made together.  Wth everything this ship and crew has gone through lately, this life means so much - to everyone I think."  Marie said as she brushed her lips against Zremm's.

"I know, call me paranoid if you want.  But this child will be unique in more ways than one and we still don't know all the ramifications of a half-Andorian, half-human being."  He told her, again trying to sound more calming than he felt.

"Stop analyzing and just enjoy it, Ch'Fras.  Did you talk to the Captain about our shore leave on Ogus II?"  She asked the man she cared for more than anything in the universe.

"Yes, it's all set.  We leave tomorrow.  One week all to ourselves in the forests of Ogus II.  I hear it's very beautiful and peaceful." 

"Sounds perfect.  I still have a couple months to go so there should be no issues with the pregnancy.  All the other women in engineering with children told me to enjoy this time.  Because after the baby comes they say we won't rest again until they go off to Starfleet or wherever they decide to study."  She said as she curled up next to the lanky Andorian.

"Oh, I'm sure Starfleet's finest can handle a little baby!  Especially after everything that's happened.  I think if we can handle the Borg, we can handle anything!"  Zremm said confidently as he wrapped his arms around Marie, making her feel warm, safe and secure. 

[Feathers]

At the command console at the back of the Starbase shuttlebay control room, Galdar cleared his station and looked thoughtfully at the blank screen. Below and in front of him, through the wide panoramic windows overlooking the bay, numerous Starfleet shuttlecraft and runabouts sat at rest on the deck with a couple of maintenance personnel moving between them. A Tellarite shuttle sat in the middle of the small ships looking odd and out of place. Things had been quiet for the last half hour with little traffic being processed through the bay and most of the assigned repairs completed.

"Computer. Display crew roster, U.S.S Arabella" he commanded.

Silently, the screen filled with names that began to roll upward as the list grew beyond the constraints of the display. Galdar had the computer do most things silently when working on his own, being easily distracted by the bleeps and chirps many other species seemed to prefer. He was sure it breached some sort of regulation, but wasn't going to stress overmuch at the thought.

As the names moved, Galdar read quickly, noting the spread of ranks and department dispositions. It was a fairly balanced crew on the whole but he couldn't help but note the holes. Holes left by the recent encounter with Borg, he assumed. Holes that needed filling. He hadn't learned an awful lot from his mealtime conversation with the human lieutenant commander, but he'd learned that much.

The pressure doors from the bay gantry swished open and the last two crewmen of the shift entered.

"All done Sir." Matthews nodded at the broad windows. "The type eight can go back into rotation and we've sorted the manifold problem on the nine."

Galdar looked up.

"Is it ready for a test flight?"

"Aye Sir. She's ready to go whenever you like."

"OK, thanks." Human politeness on Ferengi lips wasn't unheard of, but was still uncommon enough that Galdar himself was sometimes caught out by his own speech.

He nodded to the door and smiled, Matthews and Devaux grinned in turn and headed out to change.

Returning to the screen, Galdar identified a name, calling up further details. He shook his head and summoned another, then another. The name of D'Callan scrolled past and he lifted his hand for a moment before letting it fall to the desk again.

A warning appeared at the periphery of the display that pulled Galdar back from the Arabella and his thoughts. Not unusual during shift, the opening of the secure storage bay doors was very unusual when the shuttlebay itself was empty and those particular doors were sealed. Walking to the canted window, Galdar looked down to the floor below but could see nothing. This wasn't wholly surprising, since secure storage was situated directly beneath the control room.

Returning to his station, he paused before locking down the console and heading for the pressure doors and the gantry. He felt a little foolish pausing at the weapons locker to retrieve a hand phaser but as the only officer in the bay, the extra security seemed sensible. Shuttlebay 4 was a 'Starfleet Access Only Area' of the station but since they'd tractored that Tellarite shuttle in earlier in the day, he wasn't taking chances.

His footsteps on the gantry echoed round the space with multiple distortions caused by different return paths. He'd often wondered if he could arrange the ships in such a way as to equally space the returned sounds but had never bothered to try the maths. Life may be dull, but he hadn't reached that stage of boredom yet!

At the bottom of the steps he paused and examined the secure storage bay doors. They were clearly open though he couldn't detect any movement. In the middle of unholstering the phaser, he jumped when his combadge chirped.

"Hey Galdar, what's up?"

Looking up he saw his relief, Lieutenant Andrews, in the control room. The look on his face at the sight of the armed Ferengi said a lot. Galdar tapped his badge.

"Nothing much, I hope, Nick. The secure locker door's opened down here so I'm checking it over."

He saw Andrews nod and began to walk toward the open door, bolder now that someone else was in the bay. No-one was immediately visible, but caution was still required. Pausing, he turned slowly, scanning the bay and listening carefully. There weren't many places to hide without being seen from control, but it was possible. After a good 30 seconds of silence, however, he let out a breath and relaxed. He'd have bet latinum on his ability to hear anyone alive in the immediate area.

Galdar stowed the phaser at his hip and turned to reseal the security doors. He keyed the familiar sequence quickly then headed back to the ladder and the control booth. He could see Andrews looking at him questioningly as he headed for the doors.

"Nothing there, Sir." he said when he got into the room and returned the phaser to its place. "I don't know what happened, but I've sealed it up again and I'll log it before I go."

Andrews nodded and looked thoughtful "Not had that problem in here before, but I'll get a crew in to give it a look over."

Sitting at the controls once again, Galdar unlocked the station and initiated the handover procedure, logging the resealed storage locker door as he did so. Andrews stood beside him until he finished at which point the changed places and the lieutenant took control of the bay.

Formalities complete, Galdar raised his hand in farewell and headed for the door and his quarters. He had another holo-session booked in an hours time and now had a very good idea of what he wanted to do with it.

[Jen]

Ryla's pounding heart slowed gradually, as did her breathing. It was only a dream...

After a moment of staring at the ceiling, she rolled her head to the left to read the chonometer. Due to the late night she spent in the lounge, the young doctor had slept for most of the day.  She turned her eyes back to the ceiling and lay there in the silence trying to forget the recurring nightmare. The dream always involved N'Vall and it ended the same way each time she dreamt it.

She finally willed herself out of bed and slowly moved to the sonic shower. Ryla had much to do before her first punching lesson began...like figuring out what to wear.  She hadn't thought to ask K'Tan, when he agreed to teach her the night before. The sound of the shower could be heard from the central living space, as she prepared herself for what was left of the day. An hour later, she donned a bath robe and entered the area where her personal computer resided. She plopped herself into the chair and accessed the database in search of the proper martial arts uniform.  Most of them were rather boring and, as she had mentioned the night before, she didn't like boring. A thousand files later, the Trill narrowed the search to three different styles. After two more hours of serious contemplation, she replicated the three uniforms and tried each one on. By then, it was time to go.

As she strode down the corridor a number of crewmen passed her wearing civilian clothing. They were headed to the Starbase and to the planet's surface to enjoy their shore leave. She had yet to do the same—it just didn't' feel safe. Perhaps I will feel differently after my lesson, she thought.

[wraith1701]

joint post by Jen & wraith1701




K'Tan stood in the center of the holodeck, wearing loose-fitting black pants and a simple, charcol gray pullover cinched at the waist by a black cloth belt. A series of bright-yellow gridlines stretched out above and below him, carving the rooms' blackness into a series of forshortened squares.  Even after all his years of service, K'Tan was still impressed by the uniformity of Starfleet technology.  Be they on a Starship, or on a Starbase, all Federation holodecks appeared the same while in 'standby' mode.  He just hoped that his training programs had been transfered from the Arabella without any glitches.

He glanced at his chronometer-- 16:55... 5 minutes until his appointment with Ryla.

"Computer; activate training program K'Tan-06. Level 1."

The black and yellow gridded emptiness was instantly replaced by a dimly-lit metallic cavern. Torches mounted on a ring of iron pillars surrounding him cast his features in stark relief, and reflected dimly from the metallic ceiling arching overhead. Beyond the ring of light cast by the torches, the cavern's details gradually faded, and were eventually swallowed by shadow.

From the surrounding darkness, bestial howls of rage and hunger ripped apart the silence. As the wails and roars grew closer, K'Tan's fists clenched.

A smile of anticipation crossed his face, then slowly melted into a scowl.

"This won't do. Might be a bit much for a beginner."

As the sounds of danger drew nearer, K'Tan sighed in resignation.

"Computer: End program. Initiate training program K'Tan-08, level 1."

The bleak chamber vanished, and was immediately replaced by a warmly lit training dojo. Bamboo slat blinds hung over the windows, softening the rays of the setting sun. Hanging on the walls were a series of archaic bladed weapons; Klingon bat'leths, katana and broadswords from earth, and Vulcan lirpa.

K'Tan crossed to the squat, earthenware incense censer standing in the center of the room, leaving faint footprints in the floor's padded matting. He closed his eyes, and deeply inhaled the soothing mix of Klingon and Asian incense burning on the censer's coals.

Behind him, one of the dojo's plain walls morphed into the familiar lines of a holodeck arch; His eyes slowly opened as he heard the doorway hush open.

"Welcome, Ryla. You're right on time."

Being on time was a rarity for the doctor.  As K'Tan turned to face her, she asked "Should I bow or something?"

She stood in the doorway, outfitted in a standard Aikido uniform, which consisted of black skirt and a white quilted jacket. Ryla noticed the smile that came over K'Tan's face and wondered if she had chosen the wrong uniform. The Trill glanced down at her attire and then back to her instructor, "Oh... I wasn't sure what to wear. I narrowed it down to three uniform styles: kuk sool-hapkido, Suss Mahn, and Aikido. They all had very interesting features, but I decided to go with this one for the first lesson because I liked the flowy skirt. Should I have worn a Mok'bara gi instead?"

"What you are wearing is fine," K'Tan replied. "The important thing is that your uniform not encumber your movement." K'Tan tilted his head quizzically, one hand slowly stroking his chin.

"It is actually an interesting choice of attire. Since you are a Doctor, Akido might be the most appropriate martial art for you to study."

Ryla gave him a skeptical look. "Since I'm a Doctor? What do you mean?"

K'Tan smiled, happy to be on familiar ground. "Many warriors consider Akido to be one of the most ethical martial arts. Instead of being focused on inflicting damage, Akido aims at blending with an incoming attack, and if given the opportunity, to put an end to it without unnecessarily injuring the attacker. In a way, it almost seems compatible with part of your Hippocratic Oath-- 'First, do no harm'."

K'Tan smoothly sank to the floor to sit cross-legged on the matting, and gestured for Ryla to do the same. "Before we go any further, I need to know what you'd like me to teach you. Does Akido sound like the right fit? Are you wanting to learn how to inflict the most damage on an attacker, or are you more concerned with avoiding or redirecting an attack?"

Ryla slipped off her shoes as she entered the dojo and lowered herself upon the mat across from the Chief Tactical Officer. She considered K'Tan's question as her eye studied the beautiful scene that her instructor created. The warm glow of the afternoon sun, the sweet scent of falling cherry blossoms and the distant trumpet of Swans, were a very nice touch...an artist's touch. She smiled inwardly at the simplicity and beauty of his handy work, before turning her gaze back to K'Tan.

Ryla sighed," I only put this on because I thought it looked nice." She felt silly admitting that fact but it was the truth, plain and simple. As long as she was being honest, she decided to be upfront in everything. The slight smile dissolved into a face that featured a furrowing brow. She looked away as she gestured to her midsection, "I have this spot inside me that aches. I think it's anger, but it's hard to pin a label on it. I'm not use to this feeling being trapped inside. I thought hitting something might help spend that energy. Aside from that...I don't want to be at anyone or anything's mercy ever again." She drew a sharp breath and exhaled slowly, releasing the welling anxiety through the heat of her breath.

She moved her gaze from the mat to meet his eyes, "Because you were raised a Klingon, I assumed that you would be skilled in Mok'bara. But, if you believe that I am better suited to Akido, I will trust your judgment and your experience."

K'Tan smiled. "The art one studies says a lot about what lies in their soul, and I don't know you well enough to make that call for you." He gazed at the doctor.

"But I would like to," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

With those words, Ryla's expression softened and a small smile framed by dimples appeared.

K'Tan stood up. "I would be honored to teach you the Mok'bara. It is an elegant art, and is as much a meditation tool as a means of self-defense. Its practice can soothe a tumultuous spirit, and it has the added advantage of laying the groundwork for the successful use of Klingon edged weapons, like the bat'leth. It will take time, and patience, but if you are willing, I promise to help you discover your ability to protect yourself, either armed or unarmed."

Ryla cocked her head to one side as she glanced up at him.   "Protecting myself would be a good thing."

Again, she thought of Commander Sevryll's son. If she had had the ability to defend him that day, N'Vall would not have been taken by the Borg. Ryla got to her feet and smoothed her jacket. "Please teach me what you know of Mok'bara, K'Tan."

I should not have been so informal, she thought.  It was the first time she called him anything other than "commander'. But he called me "Ryla"...didn't he?

She bowed at the waist and smiled.

"When do the punching lessons begin?"

[moyer777]

Margon was in a tight spot.  He knew that there were a couple of ways to handle his situation, but couldn't decide which officer to contact.  Either the chief of security or the captain would be able to help, but he had to do this in secret.  Both had been busy, and he sensed uneasiness from Captain Quinn.  He had no idea if his communications had become compromised.  The unknown Orion was outside of his quarters working on the panel next to his quarters, so anything was possible.  How could he think that Brex was alive? 

Counselor Margon did have one more option.  J'Dan Marley could probably help him.

Margon patted Mr. Mouse on the head and sighed.  He would go to the Afterburner and find J'Dan.  Perhaps they could find somewhere private to talk.  In the meantime he had to act like nothing was wrong.  His father and family were at risk for something he had no answers for.  What was this list?

[Geekyfanboy]

Took crawled through jefferies tube 56 heading to junction T1R85.  There was a faulty relay station that needed repair. This was his last duty shift for a week. His shore leave would begin as soon as this relay was fixed. It was 0900 and he expected to be done by lunchtime as he had plans to meet up with Nathan. It was boring work but several hours later the relay was humming and working properly.

He made his way back to Engineering. Since the ship was in dry dock under going major repairs Engineering was packed. He found Lt. Plummer who was overseeing repairs and reported in. Nic handed her the padd "Sir. I have completed my duties, and wish to begin my shore leave."  Elizabeth took the padd and gave him a smile, which exposed her sharp pointed teeth. "Get out of here... " Took nodded, turned and headed for the doors. "And better enjoy your shore leave..." She yelled over the noise. Nic gave her thumbs up as he exited Engineering.

Moments later he entered Quinn's quarters to find a checkered blanket sitting in the middle of the living quarters. Nathan was just setting down a picnic basket and looked up with a smile. "Oh you're early, I wanted to have a picnic lunch but the holodecks are down so I figure why not have it in my quarters."  Nic laughed, walked over to Quinn and gave him a hug. "It's perfect," he said as he sat down next to the basket. Nathan joined him and began pulling containers out. Nic rubbed his hands together with delight, "What are we having???"

[KC]

Cyra sat on her bed with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Although she usually meditated on the floor or in a serene setting in a holodeck, she couldn't bear to leave her quarters after her long and dreamless sleep. Especially after spending the majority of her time chatting, drinking, and singing at the promotion ceremony the night before.

I can't concentrate anyway, so there's no point of doing this next to a holographic waterfall, she thought. No, she wasn't supposed to think about anything right now—the point of meditating was to let all of her frustrating thoughts go. She inhaled deeply and tried to go through her exercises again.

"Inhale, exhale... mentally watch your body breathing in and out," Cyra said aloud. She pressed her palms together and brought her hands to her chest. She focused her energy on her center, the core of her being. She continued to breathe in and out. But relaxation and peace of mind were taking a holiday, and Cyra could only think about her conversation with Ryla and Mackie, particularly Mackie's questions about her Orion pheromones.

She had a great time with the two women, but she couldn't help but think on her feelings of uneasiness and relief when the subject had come up. The uneasiness came when the question itself was asked. She had no idea if she had the powerful pheromones that most Orion women had, and she never bothered to ask or find out. She wanted to continue to believe that it was indeed. Yet the relief that followed when Mackie mentioned that she might not have those pheromones was the best news that she had heard in a long while. She had remained as calm as she could for the remainder of that night, but she couldn't help but imagine fireworks and cheering, hanging banners high on the walls of her mind that read, "Congratulations! You're only Orion in appearance!"

And then for a brief moment, the memory of the green-skinned woman who had the nerve to call herself Cyra's "true mother" slipped in. Her name was Maali, and she was nothing and everything to Cyra all at once. If it hadn't been for the fact that Cyra was pleased with her thoughts about her lack of Orion characteristics, the very thought of Maali would have left Cyra sick to her stomach. .

Cyra smiled in spite of herself. I may be green, but every day in every way, I'm proving myself to be daddy's little girl. And with that, Cyra stood up and prepared for her shift in the Afterburner.

[X]

"Computer, lights." Aeric said upon entering his new office with a PADD in one hand and a mug of water in the other.

The soft white glow lit the large but spartan office of the acting XO. In the time that he had been in the position he had not seen fit to go overboard in the decorations. In one corner of the office he had placed a flowering vulcan kasa cactus that produced a sweet and edible fruit. On the shelves of his bookcase rested various books of fiction and fact from numerous Federation worlds. Also on that bookshelf, he had placed several holo-photos of his girls. The most recent of his attempts at photography sat on the corner of his desk. It was an image of Elizabeth, Rory, and M'Rynn at the picnic that he had taken them on. Smiles danced on their faces in the holo, the after effect of a game of tag between them.

Taking a sip of his water, Aeric placed it on his desk and mentally prepared his day. It would be filled with interviews and reports, but he was prepared. He had gone over the records and actions of all department heads and their assistants. He had calculated and recalculated the needs of the crew and the ship. He also had a wife that was waiting on him. It was going to be quite a busy day.

[X]

Joint post by Iceman and Just X

Aeric sat at his new desk and quietly reviewed the crew placements of the Arabella. He had only briefly held the position, but was quickly becoming adept to the nuances of it. With the repairs going on, it would be some time before they could get back to the stars and he wanted to have a full understanding of his duties before that.

In his mind, being the first officer wasn't much different from the duties that he held at the Vulcan Shipyards. There was far less paperwork, but there was no shortage of tasks to accomplish. It was the story of his life. No matter the advances or the goals that were achieved, there was always something new to push him in directions that he had not considered taking.

Part of his duties included meeting with the various department heads and also with the general crew. To understand the needs of the ship, a competent XO also needed to understand the needs of the crew. When he was the CAG of the Tiberius, he had almost as many people under his command as he did in his new role. Now he just needed to find the way to motivate the crew of the Arabella to the constant excellence of the Tiberius.

It was a role that Sevryll had performed well and he knew that he could never truly replace her. He could only attempt to look after the position until she returned. For him to do his best in the position, he needed to, at least for the moment, make the position his own. The first step was to see what his crew needed to be the best at their positions. His first review would be with Dr. Peterson and Aeric was more than ready to see what ideas the good doctor could bring to the table.

"Enter," Aeric said when the door chimed.

Dr. Peterson entered the XO's office with a PADD in hand. He had several things he wished to discuss with Aeric. He nodded to the commander and took a seat in the chair across from him. "Good Afternoon Commander."

"Good afternoon Doctor," Aeric replied and with the formalities out of the way, he started the meeting. "How are things going in medical these days? I'm trying to see how we can better this ship and shine as a crew."

"Things are slowly getting back to normal. The staff all did an exemplary job during and after the Borg crisis. I will start rotating staff out for shore leave with your permission of course."

"While we are here, with your permission, I would like to take the opportunity to upgrade some of Sickbays diagnostic equipment including the biobeds and EMH software. These minor retrofits should help improve the efficiency of sickbay greatly."

Aeric nodded slowly. "That's fine Doctor. I'll add that to the list I'm presenting the captain at the conclusion of my meetings."

Glancing to his PADD, Aeric continued. "How is your crew holding up after the Borg attack? How is Dr. Drett doing these days?"

Casey paused to reflect for a moment. "As you might well assume, the last mission was very taxing on my staff. Other then some post traumatic stress issues, which Counselor Margon is dealing with, they seem to be holding up well. I think that shore leave will go a long way on helping improving their mood. As far as Ryla is concerned, I hesitate to put her back on active duty yet. We really do not know at this time what effect not having a symbiont will have on her."

"She is seeing Counselor Margon, but I expect an update from him soon.  I think at the moment it would be prudent to give her some time to adjust to her new situation, before we burden her with sickbay duty. We would not want to give her more then she can handle, given the experience that she has just come through." Peterson concluded.

Aeric slowly ran a hand through his hair before speaking. "I understand where you are coming from doctor, but Ryla isn't dead. I appreciate the delicacy that people are using regarding Ryla, but I don't agree with it. If I had just come back from the dead, I wouldn't want the behavior of those around me to constantly remind me of that fact. I'll schedule a meeting with her and make my own observations and recommendations to the captain. Is there anything that you need for your crew or department that will get it functioning as the ideal medical department? My goal is to make this ship the envy of the fleet."

"Well as a matter of fact, there is. I find it near impossible to delegate difficult tasks to those below me, especially serious cases. Partly because I usually have more experience, but also because I'm something of a perfectionist. Unfortunately, this behavior does not necessarily help those working in medical." Casey started.

"I also have come to realize that if I ever want my own command one day, I must develop these skills. I was hoping that you might have some suggestions for me. My wife has informed me that I can come off at times as being arrogant and that is not the image I wish to portray as the head of medical on this ship. If I can deal with these shortcomings, I know that I can be a much more efficient and better officer."

"Do you think that your department is getting over worked with the current level of direct care that the crew needs?" asked Aeric.

"I expect that everything will work itself out with the staff taking their shore leave. Besides, things have began started to settle down. I know that part this situation has more to do with my past. I've had dealings with the Borg before. They were responsible for the death of my entire family. Since then, I have found it difficult to rely on anyone other then myself, and this last mission has brought up some very unpleasant memories. This may be responsible for me always taking on more then I can handle and failing to trust in my own staff's abilities. Since then, I've been feeling far more stressed and agitated. Last night, I finally realized that I can't do it all. I need to trust my staff."

Peterson slowly lowered his head and stared at the Padd in his hands. His hands slightly trembled as he waited in silence for Aeric to respond. He truly looked like a man who was defeated.

Aeric allowed concern to show on his face, "I see. I believe that I can help with that. It's obvious that you are over working yourself and that needs to stop. I'm going to recommend that you see Counselor Margon to set up a few counseling sessions for you. I'm also going to pull you back from the edge by delegating some of the duties in medical. I want you to assemble a small team that will deal specifically with general practice issues and rehabilitation of the injured crew. I'll speak with the captain about creating a wellness center aboard the Arabella. Sickbay will still handle critical care, but the general day to day health of the crew will be handled by the wellness center. You can assign the shifts, but you will not have any direct control over the wellness center beyond managing the personnel."

"This should give you more time administrating medical and less time attempting to do all the work yourself." Aeric's fingers danced over his PADD as he refined the request. "You will also allocate more duties to your assistant and take the time to recover doctor. Are there any other concerns that you have?"

"Yes, with your permission, I would like to take some shore leave with my wife. It should help alleviate some of the stress that I've been under. Would it be alright if I set up the staff for the wellness center after some shore leave?"

"Consider the shore leave both mandatory and granted." Aeric said and rose to shake the man's hand. "Have a good vacation Casey. As for the wellness center, after I clear it with the captain, I'll assemble a team to run it. It's time to get things delegated in sickbay and that shouldn't impede on the rest that you need."

Doctor Peterson took Aeric's hand and returned the strong handshake. He felt as if a big weight has been lifted off him and looked forward to his vacation and his counseling sessions with his friend Margon.

"Sir, thank you for your help in this matter." Casey said as he walked out of Aeric's office.

Aeric returned to his seat and noted his observations. The meeting did not go exactly as he calculated, but progress had occurred. Of course he had many more meeting to conduct, but this was a good start.

[Feathers]

"Computer. Initiate program Galdar 12a" the Ferengi commanded as he stood at the entrance to Holodeck 2 on Starbase 416. Still wearing his duty uniform, Galdar looked slightly out of place for a leisure period but for what he had planned, he figured he might as well wear his own uniform rather than have the computer simulate a temporary one for him.

It hadn't taken him too long to find what he was looking for once he'd got back to his quarters. Some of the records he'd accessed in the process should not, perhaps, have been available to an Ensign but in the long run, no harm would be done. It had taken a little longer to fabricate the simulation he was now initiating, but the experience should be worth it on two fronts. Firstly he'd get some information to feed into the idea that had begun to form in his head and secondly...secondly, he should get some interesting flying.

Actually, he admitted, the simulation hadn't really been that much work. Most of it was made up of standard fleet training components with the characters nothing more than officer simulations adjusted to fit starfleet personnel records and the dialog held in the logs. That gave him a fair amount of freedom of action within the simulation and, most importantly, allowed him to try it out today.

He grinned. Rule of Acquisition 62 came to mind but he doubted it had ever been applied in quite this way. There was a definite risk in what he had done, unauthorised access to command reports and sensor logs, but the potential profit for his career seemed to outweigh the possible price. It was that selfish streak again, he admitted, frowning now. He'd wanted to try this so much when he read about it so now he was going to.

"Program Ready" the flat female voice of the computer announced as the doors slid apart before him with their customary deep whine.

Galdar rubbed his hands together in suppressed glee, almost tripping in his eagerness to get inside.

[ElfManDan]

A ringing came from the door. Reese opened his eyes. He looked round the room for Fissual, he wasn't there. Reese could hear his deep wailing in the bathroom.

And he calls that singing Reese thought. He dropped his head down on his pillow. The ringing continued. He'd hoped he'd at least be able to sleep in today, it was supposed to be shore leave, he thought.

David rose from his bed and made his way to the door. Pressing the controls it opened. Reese didn't much like the voice command. Did seem right somehow. He grew up in a society were Federation technology wasn't as standard and voice capabilities were much fewer. Federation personal were somewhat often ridiculed by the locals for their insistent chitchatting with the machines. David tended to settle for pressing the buttons even though there was no one here who ridiculed his machine talk. Though he wasn't much for words in the mornings hours anyway.

"Reese!" Michael Delauney yelled as soon as the door slid open, "Get your clothes on we're going."

"What? Going?" Reese muttered "Going where?"

"Down to the planet. We're gonna shoot each other up, but not really, but arcade style."

"Arcades?"

"Yeah, you me, Fissual, possibly other, but not of our group."

"What about Lorna and Rose. You know Lorna would love that sort of thing."

"It's a guys' day, Reese."

"Guys' day?"

"Yeah, just us no girls to nag or annoy."

"Wait, no I get it. You don't want to get beat by Lorna, again."

"No, guys' day, what part of the guys day principle aren't you getting."

"Sounds like fun, just way do we plan these things so late."

"Late we've been talking about this since we arrived, me, Fiss,..." Michael stopped to think, "We told you, didn't we?"

"You know for two guys who love to hear yourselves speak you don't really get the important information out."

"So we didn't. Well, you got a half an hour, then we leave with or pretty much with you, the shoot 'em up ain't very fun with just two people."

Reese was eager to have a little fun. Seemed like the last few weeks had been spent caring and aiding for others in need. He felt a little guilt at times, everyone else seemed to be hurting and he was just beginning his life without demons to hold him back. Time to let loose a little Reese thought as he prepared himself to leave.

[dinghead]

JOINT POST BY HAWKEYEMEDS AND DINGHEAD

D'Callan and Ensign Bowers walked along the corridor of the Arabella and stopped outside the Ensign's quarters.

"In you go Ensign. I'm confining you to your quarters. I'll speak to you later after I have finished debriefing the Captain."

Bowers said nothing as he stepped in. The door swished shut. Joseph sighed then lifted his back pack and flung back it over his shoulder. He was just about to head to the Ready Room when Ensign Baker chirped in over his combadge, "Lieutenant Commander D'Callan to docking bay six, please."


Squeezing his eyes closed, D'Callan shook his head and tapped his badge in response, "On my way Ensign."

Joseph was beginning to become inpatient. It had been a long day and he still had to deliver his report to the Captain. His shore leave was steadily decreasing and he had an insatiable desire to sit in the Afterburner and enjoy one of his own supplies of beer. Entering into the docking bay, he looked round for Baker and found him standing with another Ensign—a new face.


"Ensign Baker, you interrupted my visit to the Captain."

Baker spun around and stood to attention. "Sir. New arrival reporting in."

"Very good Baker... On your way."

D'Callan took the PADD from Baker and turned to the new arrival. Looking up at the 6 foot 3 man D'Callan smiled. "Big fella ain't ya. So..... Ensign...."

"Shane. Darius Shane"

D'Callan continued scanning the PADD. "Add a 'Sir' on the end of that and we'll get on just fine, Ensign" Joseph flicked him an eye.

"Sir."

"Welcome aboard. Come with me, I'll show you to your quarters". The two men strode down the corridor as D'Callan continued to read the new Ensign's personnel file. "Your report makes for an interesting read: 'Arrogant, Sarcastic and combative'." D'Callan turned to look him in the eye. "Good qualities for working along side me...they are not, Ensign. I may be in charge here, but we all look out for each other aboard Arabella. I see things in this report, which I will call you out on. And I am deadly serious about this..."


Ensign Shane looked at D'Callan with a slight frown.

D'Callan glanced back to the PADD"...For your interests, you've included the subject of beer. I have a personal stock of fine, authentic ale. Wetheroak in fact. Not any of that sythahol rubbish: Four point five percent, made from the finest hops. I've had a long day Ensign, and I make it a point to unwind in the Afterburner."

As they reached Shane's new quarters, the Chief Of Security keyed a sequence into the door panel and it swished open.

"I'll be in the bar in about an hour. I expect to see you there, we can go through your duties then." D'Callan gave him a curt nod and headed towards the turbo lift.

Darius nodded at his commander's back. "Yes..." he paused just long enough for the right amount of irony, "Sir."

Entering his quarters, he eyed the space warily. Starships weren't new to him of course, he'd been in Starfleet for almost twenty years, regardless of what the single collar pip said. Ah, the joys of being in an outfit that didn't use a lot of rank.

Dropping his duffel beside the bed, Darius crossed to the small replicator panel and requested water, the only thing he'd ever willingly ask from it.

A bed, a replicator, several square feet of open floor space... and low and behold, a viewport. Quite a step up from a shelf with room below for the bag he carted his life around in. "Welcome to the Ritz, Mr. Shane. Enjoy your stay..."

For only the umpteen thousandth time that day, Darius wondered just what the heck he was DOING playing security officer on the Arabella.

Arabella, now THERE'S an m-class chunk of irony.

'...we're worried about your performance evals,' the officious nit of a personnel officer had said. 'Ever since the...incident... you've been distracted, getting slower, more sloppy.'

Darius could hear the improvised grenade bouncing along the cargo bay floor, the people screaming and then the horrible gust of wind. Nothing is so terrifying in space as a sudden gust of wind.

'What you need,' the paper-pusher had concluded, 'is a break. Not more training, but not a vacation either...'

And so here he was.

Reaching out to the viewport, he found the control that turned it's interior surface opaque. It was supposed to be used to block out bright exterior light. The blackness of space, and Darius Shane's muted reflection was replaced by dull, matte gray. Fine with him, he'd had enough reflection.

With a small snarl, he turned on his heel, slammed the water glass back into the replicator and strode back out. He had the lion's share of that hour before his meeting, but he would need that time to find out all the unofficial things about security on his new posting: where people went, where they didn't, and all the little nooks and crannies in between.

[Jen]

She watched the woman and two children stepped out of the holodeck. Both girls were vulcanoid. She wondered which one was M'Rynn. The infants she carried in her womb, moved at the sound of their melodious laughter.  Sevryll placed her hand on her abdomen and smiled as the holodeck doors closed behind them. She liked this place, and so did the twins she carried. It was warmer than the Tiberius and no one had tried to kill them.  However, as pleasant as the Arabella was, she knew they did not belong among these people.

In the three weeks that she had been aboard, Sevryll split most of her time between Sickbay and the holodeck.  Due to the effects of the fissure, the children were developing faster than ordinary and so the physicians had deemed it necessary to monitor her pregnancy closely. Other than the medical staff, and Captain Quinn, she rarely spoke to any of the people aboard Arabella...though a number had mistakenly addressed her as "commander".

Nathanial checked on her often during her first week aboard his ship. He was attempting to find a place for her to settle—someplace she could blend in. Vulcan was apparently out of the question, for her double had fled her homeworld due to political crisis. She would find no solace there, yet there was another option that held promise. Mintaka III was home to the Mintakan people, a Vulcan-like race near a Bronze Age of evolution. Sevryll did not wish to leave the comforts of her new home, but she knew the time would come when she would wear out her welcome.

[Feathers]

Galdar stepped onto a simulation of the bridge of the U.S.S Arabella retrieving a phaser from a crewman as he passed. Almost unnoticed, a holographic black pip materialised on his collar, next to the gold one he already wore. He descended to the command level and tapped the officer manning the helm on the shoulder, taking his seat as soon as it was vacated.

A shudder shook the bridge as he sat, throwing his predecessor to the deck as he moved to man an auxiliary station behind the bridge railing.

"Mr. Galdar, take us clear of the planet at maximum warp. Without primary weaponry, our options against the Borg are limited" a calm, Vulcan voice commanded.

Galdar's fingers jumped to the controls in front of him and power surged through the impulse engines in response. As the bow of the Arabella lifted clear of its orbital trajectory and it began to pick up speed, Galdar jumped it to full impulse - the quicker to get clear of the planetary gravity well.

The ship was large but responsive, moving quickly away from the planet under the Ensign's control. Galdar threw in a quick half roll to starboard as he detected an energy beam slicing beneath the secondary hull. "Whoever's on tactical has a good sensor setup." he thought.

"Captain, we are having trouble generating a stable warp field, due to the interference from the subspace disturbances." he called after another minute. That much of the official bridge record, Galdar could remember.

"Take us away from the anomalies at full impulse, and tell engineering that we need those weapons!" the Vulcan commander said as she turned to face the tactical station over her right shoulder. "Tactical, keep a close eye on the shields. While they were designed with the Borg in mind, this will be the first true test. We can't afford to let them fail."

Galdar's attention returned to his station as he danced the ship through the incoming fire from the sphere. The bridge crew were quiet and focused through it all, throwing themselves into their tasks. Almost in response, Galdar redoubled his efforts, flinging the ship around to avoid as much of the incoming fire as possible and forgetting, for the moment, the simulated nature of the engagement.

The Vulcan Commander turned to the Andorian at the science station. "An Asteroid belt is located here. The irons, stony-irons, and chordates that make up the rubble, are magnetized. How long would the sphere's sensors be affected by the magnetic field, before they're able to compensate for the disruption? An approximation will suffice, Zremm."

In reality, many of the crew had been in some form of disguise at this point in time but Galdar hadn't bothered to make the simulation that accurate using standard species stereotypes to fill the simulated roles.

"Fifty minutes at most."  Zremm replied as another barage shook the ship and an unmanned console blew out at the port forward auxiliary station, belching smoke and flame.

"Helm, set course for the asteroid belt. Take us in carefully, we can not afford to lose anymore shielding." the Vulcan called to him.

"Aye, Commander" he called in response, finally remembering her name.

Listening to the clipped conversations around him (all accurately logged and repeated from bridge recordings) he was learning a lot about the bridge crew of this ship and the command structure and style used to run her. He was getting the information he was after, but he was also enjoying this immensely. He'd had very few opportunities to fly a starship, real or simulated.

His hands danced over the curved panel before him and the simulation of the Arabella lurched suddenly, 'dropping' five hundred meters down the z-axis. With a snap, he pivoted it toward the closest part of the asteroid belt before accelerating to what his Academy pilot instructor would probably have called an "unsafe velocity".

"Steady, Lieutenant", Sevryll called calmly, her focus split between the asteroids in front, the Borg behind and the status of her ship trapped between the two. "We need those shields intact."

"Aye." Galdar grunted, baring his teeth in concentration as the ship, under his control, barrelled into the asteroid field.