Star Trek: Season 9

[Jen]

Joint Post by Just X and Jen

Aeric paced slowly across the carpeted floor of his office as he waited for Ryla to arrive. Between family and meetings, he had managed to completely ruin any sort of time that he could have spent with his wife. It was a course of action that culminated into something that he had not expected. Long-lived species had a very strong enemy when trying to stay wed...that enemy was time. Oona's people realized that long ago and now Aeric had realized it. She was still his wife, but things were different between them now. It was something between a second chance and a fresh start. He was happy for both, but he knew that he wasn't the only one going through the emotions attached to having another chance at things.







Ryla pinned the combadge to the bodice of her dress and exited her quarters. K'Tan's meeting was obviously over if Lieutenant Commander James was now requesting a meeting with her. She stepped into the lift, called for the proper deck and tapped her badge, "Lieutenant Dre..."   Ryla paused. She didn't like using the symboint's name. 'Ryla Emarrin' was her given name, but K'Tan didn't know her by that. She frowned at the realization and gazed up at the ceiling, "Lieutenant Drett to Lieutenant Commander K'Tan."

"K'Tan here."

"I think I'm going to be a little late. Lieutenant Commander James has requested an impromptu meeting with me. If you still want to grab a bite to eat, I'll meet you on the promenade in front of the merchant quarter at 2100 hours."

"Of course. Do you like Klingon food?"

"Um...I've never had the opportunity to try it. I'm not usually squeamish, but I don't think I could muster the courage to eat Gagh."

"Neither can I," he laughed.

Ryla stepped from the lift and made her way to the XO's office. The chime sounded and an instant later the door swept open. "Commander," she said. "You wanted to see me?"

"How are you doing today doctor?" Aeric smiled and gestured for her to take the seat across from his desk.

"Today was better than yesterday, sir."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that you haven't fully recovered from your experience, but the ship needs you. Are you ready to step up to a new challenge?"

Ryla hesitated a moment before sitting to the chair. His forward, 'cut to the chase nature' had once again surprised her. Her smile  was delayed as she smoothed her dress and sat in the chair. "What do you have in mind? " The Trill tried to sound eager, but she suspected the telepath knew that her enthusiastic tone was less than genuine.

"Doctor Peterson is addressing some personal issues and while he is doing that, we need to make sure that medical is still running smoothly," Aeric said and leaned slightly forward in his chair. "Pending the captain's final authorization, I want to convert some of the unused space aboard the ship into a general care facility. With many of our crew recovering from this last encounter, I believe that we could use more room. Casey will still be in charge of medical, but it's time to see what our other officers there can do, if given the opportunity. A decentralized medical system will also reduce loss of life if something happens to one of the two facilities. What are your opinions on this?"

She nodded, "A secondary infirmary would be useful. Patients requiring minor treatment or regular physicals could be diverted there, leaving Doctor Peterson to utilize Main Sickbay as a trauma and critical care center. If you're looking for a suggestion Commander, Myella Peterson would be more than capable of heading the new facility."

Aeric simply smiled, "I already have a perfect person in mind ... you. You're the assistant chief, and you've proven yourself to be a competent leader in the past. I know that you've been through a lot, but like it or not, you represent one of the only good things that has risen from the Borg attack."

Ryla's stare lingering for a moment— she hadn't expected him to offer her the position. "I appreciate your confidence in me, but my present condition would make me a liability to the staff. At this point, I'm not sure I'm the best choice to run the new ward."

"Your specialization would be better suited to a clinic than a trauma center, Doctor Drett. I understand that you are hesitant to do this. I can't blame you. I've lost my share of lifetimes to realize how simple it would be to crawl into a hole and recover."  Aeric took a deep breath. "The fact of the matter is that you're the best person for the job... You are a doctor. Given your relative age, I assume that this was a career path you picked before becoming joined. You still are a doctor. I can't afford to have both the CMO and the ACMO nursing wounds and trying to pick their lives up. The entire ship has suffered serious losses. In addition, there are now at least two women on this ship that could use your services, doctor. Casey needs a break and I need you to hold the line and make his job a little easier."

Ryla quietly absorbed his comments, yet she swallowed them down like bitter pills.    "I had no intention of turning from my duties, sir. I will accept the position you are offering.... Permission to speak freely, Commander."

He nodded in reply to her request.

She kept her tone respectful though the anger she described to K'Tan, boiled within her. "While I appreciate your efforts to motivate me, I assure you it is not necessary.  I am not hiding in a hole....or licking my wounds." She drew a quivering breath as she continued, "My hesitation is due solely to my desire to be a responsible officer."

A smile grew on Aeric's face, "That's good to hear. I for one am glad to have received that response from you.  I don't mind you having a crisis of confidence, doctor. From time to time we all need someone to believe in us, to restore our self-assurance. I wouldn't be having this conversation if I wasn't convinced of your abilities."

Ryla felt the seething emotion dissipate slightly, though his insensitive comments still irritated her.  "Thank you, sir. Once you have the Captain's permission, I would like to visit the space you want converted, to help create a floor plan."

"Of course. I'll keep you apprised of the situation." Aeric stood and offered her his hand, "I won't keep you any longer. Enjoy your evening."

Ryla left his office with little more than a nod. As she headed to the Starbase, his words simmered in her mind and her thoughts cooked up the replies she would have given him... if she had been ready to leave Starfleet.

[Jen]

Four Sixteen's interior was cast in a dull hue, yet the aromas were vivid.  The crisp scent of various foods, from numerous cultures, mingled on the promenade. They paralleled the mass of diverse peoples that wove their way through the merchant quarter.  As Ryla passed through the crowd, her ears caught strings of individual dialects. Some sounded coarse, while others were as lyrical as impassioned songs. The Trill had a fondness for languages and she listened intently for those that she could translate without the use of her combadge.

Ten minutes had past when her eavesdropping was interrupted by a Ferengi's aggressive sales pitch. Ryla tried to politely endure him—allowing him to prattle on for sometime before abruptly interjecting. "I'm sorry. I'm not interested. But thank you anyway," she replied in the Ferengi's native tongue. He gazed at the clothed female with a disgust, muttered something she didn't quite understand and shuffled off to harass another newcomer.

After that unexpected exchange, the doctor reactivated her badge and moved to the overlook near the Arabella's docking corridor. She gazed down at the well of decks below her feet. The opening in the upper ring was enormous. At the base of the structure, she could see a portion of the botanical gardens. Ryla wondered if Mackie had had a chance, to visit it yet.

A movement of air stirred the hem of her dress as the docking door opened and several crewmen entered the starbase from Arabella. When she didn't see K'Tan among them, she returned her attention to the garden far below.

[Feathers]

Carrying a small pile of PADDS, Ensign Galdar reported for duty at the Arabella docking port and signed aboard the starship. He wasn't going to get the chance to fly it as he had done on the holodeck, but he had been assigned some duties aboard.

A couple of runabouts had been involved in the recent clash with the Borg so they deserved a 'once-over' to ensure they were functional. Additionally, the ship's shuttle fleet was going to get a general overhaul since they wouldn't be required to do much else for a while. Some would presumably be loaned out to crew on planetary leave, normal practice for Starfleet, but the others would be rotated though the stations maintenance facilities for a more detailed overhaul than the ship's facilities could provide.

Galdar wasn't here to do any maintenance himself, but as pilot duties on the station tended to include shuttlebay management and supervision, he'd been sent over to relieve Lieutenant Andrews who was overseeing the Arabella end of the programme.

"Shuttlebay" he called, entering a turbolift near the docking port.

The bay was relatively quiet when he entered. It held most of its shuttle complement but very few crew members. Most notably conspicuous by his absence was Nicholas Andrews.

Galdar looked round the bay then tapped his com badge.

"Galdar to Andrews" he called and waited. When no response was forthcoming he tried again. "Galdar to Lieutenant Nicholas Andrews, Starbase Flight Operations"

The pause grew uncomfortably long but there was still no response. Galdar tapped the badge again.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Andrews, Starbase Flight Operations".

"Lieutenant Andrews is located in Jeffries tube 77"

Turning to the nearest officer, a human, Galdar saw him already pointing at an open access port to the rear of the bay. Nodding in thanks, he started over in that direction just before the head of his colleague appeared through the opening.

"Nick?" he queried. Then, as Andrews stood from the crouch required for Jeffries aces, "Your combadge sir?"

Andrews looked down then grimaced at the blank material of his uniform breast and turned back towards the hatch, muttering.

"Perhaps the Lieutenant should pay more attention in tight spaces." the human, still watching him, stated flatly.

"Perhaps, but he's as good in tight spaces as anyone I know on the station." Galdar replied. He stuck out his hand, human style. "Galdar, 416 Flight Operations"

The human shook his hand gravely and nodded in acknowledgement. "Lester Garriss. Arabella engineering"

Galdar made a point of looking about him "I've been reading something about your ship. You've been in a few tight places yourselves I believe?"

"Indeed." came the response. Galdar looked again - had he missed some pointed ears when he'd assessed Garriss on his arrival in the bay?

"How are the repairs coming?", he tried again, nodding at the open access panel in which Lester had been partially obscured.

"Progress is acceptable. Given the amount of damage we sustained, a significant repair period is to be expected. With the commitment of the engineering staff, however, and the help of station personnel I don't think we'll have a problem getting on top of things."

"Recalibrating the EPS grid?", said Galdar as he peered into the access panel. After giving him a slightly strange look, Garriss joined him, slowly getting drawn into a discussion on EPS management.

"I shall consider myself relieved then Ensign?" came an amused voice from behind.

Galdar stood and turned to Lieutenant Andrews looking slightly embarrassed. "Of course sir. I assume the latest repair has still to be returned?".

"Yes." the Lieutenant said matter-of-factly "but I don't expect it will be too long." He nodded to flight control where the officer on duty was clearly in discussion with some unseen third party.

"I'll see you back on the base." Nodding farewell to both officers, Nick Andrews sauntered from the bay, tapping his combadge as the pressure doors closed on him.

Galdar also nodded, but more thoughtfully and looked around him again. This ship had undeniably taken a beating but it had handled the experience well. He didn't know the odds but as a Ferengi he understood the nature of probability and the relevance of luck. Thinking over recent events, he made a decision - one that he hoped he wouldn't soon regret.

"Ensign Garriss, to whom would I speak about the possibility of a transfer aboard the Arabella?", he asked.

Garriss withdrew from the access port looking slightly surprised. "I guess you'd need to see the Captain, but you could do worse than having a word with Lieutenant Commander James first".

The hatch alarms sounded suddenly causing Galdar to flinch into a half crouch and effectively ending the conversation. Ferengi genetic reaction again, he cursed silently. Looking up he watched the doors slowly open to reveal a shuttle outside the bay returning from a maintenance visit to the station. They'd considered simply beaming the small ships in and out of the Arabella but it had been deemed more sensible to fly them. Galdar assumed that a pilot had been involved in the decision somewhere, a fact for which he was grateful.

Retrieving one of his PADDs, Galdar stood to one side as the shuttle settled to the deck then ducked inside the rear hatch as it opened. "Time to get on with the job", he thought.

[wraith1701]

After his meeting with Aeric James, K'Tan quickly made his way to his quarters.  He donned one of his few civilian outfits-- a pair of simple yet well tailored rynal-hide pants, and an earth-toned silk-weave tunic.  A charcol-gray overcoat of the same airy material gave his outfit a semi-formal look.  Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed his family dagger and scabbard, securing them to his belt.   

Minutes later, as he wandered down the promenade of the starbase, he noticed a disturbance up ahead.  A small crowd had gathered near the entrance to a gaming parlor, and a series of increasingly angry shouts were coming from the center of the mob.  He quickened his pace, and as he drew nearer, he heard the unmistakable, guttural rumblings of the tlhIngan tongue. 

This should be interesting, he thought.

A ring of civilians of different species stood in a loose ring around two loudly arguing humanoids; a Klingon, and a Naussican.  From the way that the onlookers were suddenly and frantically backing away, it looked like the situation was escalating.  Bones were going to be broken; blood was going to flow.  As the tall, dusky skinned human neared the motley crowd, it's members instinctively made a hole for him. 

Approaching the pair, K'Tan caught the eye of the Klingon warrior.  "NUQNEH!" he exclaimed. What is this all about?

The Klingon turned to glance at him in mild surprise.  From the unsteady slowness of his movement, K'Tan assumed that alcohol played a significant part in the conflict.  As he cautiously drew nearer, the smell wafting towards him confirmed his suspicion.

"WejpuHhh," the Klingon slurred drunkenly. "How charming.  An Earther who can speak like a civilized being!"

K'Tan glared at the drunken Klingon and nonchalantly flexed his shoulders, causing his coat to part and reveal the knife sheath attached to his belt.  The Klingon's eye darted to it, and noticing K'Tan's family crest carved into the leather, he gave an incredulous chortle.  "Ah; I've heard of you. You must be the foundling from the House of Gal.  I'm feeling generous today, so I offer you the opportunity to prove your right to wear that blade.  You can join me in slaughtering this Naussican veQnuj!"

K'Tan slowly shook his head.  "I have no quarrel with either of you.  I only felt honor bound to give you warning-- I've  alerted the station's authorities, and they should be here shortly.  It would be dishonorable for you to end the day confined in a starfleet holding cell." 

Taking advantage of the situation, the Naussican gave a sneering laugh, then turned and quickly melted into the crowd.  The Klingon turned and spat on the floor in disgust.  "You sniveling little toDSaH!" he raged.  "You'd best hope our paths never cross again.  For if I ever lay eyes on you again, I shall surely kill you!" 

After scanning the area for signs of approaching security agents, the Klingon quickly headed down the corridor.  As the crowd dispersed, K'Tan glanced at his chronometer.  Noticing the time, he felt his heart spike in alarm. 

"Tojo'Qa'!" he cursed.  I'm late!

[Meds]

Michael walked through the lock and into the station. After showing his credentials he humped his pack on his shoulder and aimed for a quiet area to concentrate on his puzzle. Suddenly he received a tap on his shoulder.

"Are you a member of the Arabella?"

Standing in front of him was an old man, he had a small mechanical piece of equipment that hoovered up bits of debris.

"Yes I am. I'm new"

The old man cackled and put his arm round the worried Ensign.

"Do you know what they say about the Arabella?"

Michael shook his head and then looked around for some assistance but no one seemed to notice the two men.

"They say its haunted. "

Michael smiled at the ramblings of this old caretaker but a hint of curiosity hit his mind.

"Haunted you say. How"

The old man pointed to a metal curved seat.

"Come with me young man and let me tell you all about it"

[Dangelus]

The shuttle bay was too untidy for Lester's liking. Untidy with components and untidy with people, he thought.

He had wondered why he had been assigned to it this shift as it was not his usual work rotation. Since joining the crew he had worked mostly independently on various areas of the ship performing tedious repairs, at least as far as he was concerned.
Unfortunately for Lester this area of the ship by definition was a hub of activity for the crew. As well as support officers coming in from the starbase, many of the Arabella crew were departing for shore leave. Much more interaction was required on the Ensign's part than his usual taciturn persona was accustomed to.

Realizing his duties were just about finished, he cleared up his equipment, logged off duty and headed for his quarters with the intention of meditating; an act he had yet to successfully perform since signing aboard, much to his own embarrassment.

Once inside his quarters Lester activated the manual door lock as was his custom.

"Incoming transmission for Ensign Lester Garriss." Announced the computer.

"Uh... route it to this station!" Lester replied, with mild annoyance.

He looked at the communication to see who it was even though he knew of only one person that would contact him. He opened the channel. The image of the Federation Diplomatic Seal appeared and was then replaced with the image of a woman.

"Mother." Lester stated flatly.

"Hello son, how are you?"  The woman replied.

"I... am well mother. It is fortunate that you contacted me at this time as I have only just finished my duty shift." Lester said with an enquiring tone to his voice.

"Of course you have Lester; I wouldn't want to interrupt you during your duties. We want to make sure this assignment is a success this time don't we darling?" his mother replied in a voice Lester had always disliked.

"Of course Mother. I am successfully performing my duties although I am aware that my skills are not being utilized fully. It is a most illogical situation." The Ensign interjected.

"There you go with your 'logic' again! Oh Lester, did you still get those funny looks when you speak to people? " There was a touch of  anger in her voice.

"I.... keep my interactions with the crew to a minimum Mother." He could no longer look at the screen as he spoke.

"Of course you do. Anyway, I just wanted to check you had settled in OK son. Try not to mess this up Lester, they have what you need here. I have to go now but I will be in touch soon. Don't forget son, I am always here if you need me. Goodbye" She said and cut off the transmission.

Shaking his head, the Ensign deactivated his console and cancelled his meditation plans.

[Feathers]

Lieutenant Nicholas Andrews stepped into his quarters on Starbase 416 and waited for the door to close behind him. Sighing heavily, he loosened his uniform tunic, removed his combadge and threw it carelessly onto a small table beside the desk. It landed beside an identical looking unit.

The last shift hadn't quite gone as planned and he had only himself to blame. It was the last part of that statement that galled him; one oversight on his part was about to add all sorts of variables into an already tricky operation.

The terminal on the desk lit up announcing an incoming communication. Dropping into the seat, he turned the screen to face him and commanded to computer to open the communication channel.

The face he saw on the other end of the link did not come as a surprise.

[Jen]

Joint post by Wraith1701 and Jen

Ryla's eyes wandered appreciatively over K'Tan's civilian attire, "You look sharp," she said ironically—knowing nothing of the knife hidden under his jacket.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he replied.

She waved her hand dismissively, "no need to apologize to me, I'm hardly ever on time." The Trill turned from her place at the railing and smiled up at him, "and if you'll recall...I was late first. I'm just trying to figure out how you were able to slip past me. I've been near the docking corridor for a while now."

K'Tan smiled, and shrugged, "I've always had a knack for slipping by unobserved."  A wistful look came into his eye.  "It's actually gotten me out of quite a few... interesting situations as a child."

As the pair walked past a viewport looking out on the docked Arabella, K'Tan paused to look Ryla up and down.  "That dress looks good on you," he said with a smile.  "It complements your spots."

Ryla directed a reflexive smile away from K'Tan. She knew the awkward statement was meant as a complement and she sensed the embarrassment in his uneasy pause. "Thanks," came her lighthearted reply.

As his last comment replayed in his head, K'Tan felt his cheeks redden.  His normally dormant inner critic chose the moment to make itself known.  Compliments her spots?!?  Nice one.  Really smooth.

"And might I say those leather pants are very...leathery." She jabbed him lightly in the arm with her elbow as they strode down the corridor.

K'Tan cleared his throat and hurriedly tried to guide the conversation along.  "So, I hear that there's a restaurant on 416 that specializes in Klingon cuisine.  The real stuff, not replicated.  I've been curious to see how it compares to my mother's cooking."

The patter of running footsteps drew near, and the two quickly stepped to the wall to make room for an energetic trio of laughing Andorian children.  As the kids scampered down the corridor, K'Tan directed his gaze back at Ryla.  "So about that Klingon food; what do you say?  Feeling adventurous?"

Ryla watched the children run by, "As long as it's thoroughly cooked, I think my taste buds are up to the challenge."

The patrons that filled the Klingon restaurant were comprised of several species, but there was only one Trill and one human in the establishment. Ryla allowed K'Tan to pull her chair out before lowering herself into the uncomfortable, metal seat. A gruff Klingon waiter handed them each a menu PADD and, without another word, turned and walked away. Ryla watched him go before giving the menu her attention....or part of it anyway.   Her gaze wandered to K'Tan—he did look rather dapper in his overcoat. She flicked her eyes back to the menu when he looked up, "I can't read Klingon." Ryla glanced up from the PADD once more, "Would you mind ordering for me?"

"Not at all," he replied.  "I trust the 'thoroughly cooked' part doesn't apply to fruit or vegetable dishes?"

"Nope. That sounds good," she said with a nod of approval.

The stoic waiter returned to their table, holding two metallic mugs in one hand, and a large clay bowl in the other.  After placing the steaming carafes in front of K'Tan and Ryla, he set the bowl down between them.  Ryla peered into the bowl; it was filled with what appeared to be plain, clear water.  She glanced questioningly at K'Tan.

"For cleaning up," he answered.  "Most Klingon food is eaten with the hands, and napkins aren't typically part of the place setting."

K'Tan turned to the silent waiter.  "To drink, we want two glasses of bahgol, medium sweet.  To eat, we want qaraDa gham, with tlhatlh and zilm'kach served on the side."

The waiter gave a brief nod.  "Understood. Do you want your tlhatlh and zilm'kach broiled as well, or just the gham?"

"All prepared in the traditional manner," K'Tan replied.   "And grapok sauce.  Lots of grapok sauce."

As the waiter stalked away, Ryla turned to K'Tan.  "That was a mouthful.  So; what did you order for us?"

K'Tan raised his mug, took a sip, and winced; the wince gradually transformed into a smile of pleasure.  "QaraDa gham is litterally 'Karada Legs', which are traditionally served broiled over an open flame.  Tlhatlh is a rich, dark-green leafy vegetable.  Very succulent, with a strong, somewhat spicy, acidic taste.  Grapok sauce tends to level out the spiciness. And zilm'kach is a fruit native to Q'onos.  Verysweet.  The taste is hard to describe; to me, it's like a combination of Earth apricots and Betazed uttaberries."

Wearing an uncertain smile, Ryla slowly raised her mug to her lips; K'Tan quickly held up a hand in warning. "The drink is Chech'tluth. Translated into Standard, the name means 'Bold Drink'.  It is extremely potent, even by Klingon standards."  He glanced at his mug.  "I doubt that I could finish this without going into a coma, and I must be at least twice as heavy as you.  Please be careful."

She looked down at the brew, "thanks for the warning." Ryla took an experimental sip and coughed. Her eyes watered as she returned the mug to the table. "Is there a Klingon equivalent to a Shirley Temple?" She gasped.

"Yes...Water," he chuckled as he pushed a cup toward her. "Are you okay?" She managed to hold back the coughing fit, and thankfully received the water. The doctor swiftly lifted it to her mouth and flooded the fire in her stomach. She couldn't help but laugh as she wiped the tears from her cheeks, "Raktijino is 'bold', K'Tan. But Chech..."

"Chech'tluth," he offered.

"Yes, Chech...tlu..th." she repeated slowly, trying to pronounce it just as K'Tan had.   "It's a bit more than bold. I believe the word 'brutal' is a more fitting description. It has a nice flavor though. I like it...I think,"  She said with a smile then took another long sip of water.

[Geekyfanboy]

Joint post Hawkeyemeds & Startrekfanatic5

D'Callan gave a big yawn, closed his eyes and stretched his arms just as the turbo lift doors opened. He heard a light "cough", Joseph quickly opened his eyes to see the face of Captain Quinn "oops sorry sir. " he said has to lowered his arms. Quinn smiled and enter the turbolift and stood next to Joseph. "transporter room" Quinn said with a snap.

Joseph turned to the Captain "I've got the Bowers report sir" Quinn smiled at D'Callan as he handed him the padd. He quickly scanned the padd "I'm sure your relieved to have this out of the way Mr. D'Callan."  Nathan said as he continued to read the report. The turbolift stopped as another crewmen entered and nodded to D'Callan and Quinn. Quinn continued " I agree with your suggestion that Mr. Bowers will need some sessions with the Councilor. Be sure to inform the Mr. Margon of his new client." Joseph took the padd back from Quinn "No worries sir...Oh before you head off for shore leave. I've found a rather enthusiastic young ensign. A ferengi pilot. He's eager to transfer to the Arabella. I said I'd mention it to you."

Quinn smiled again. "Well we are beginning to staff back up, do you have his record." D'Callan pressed a few buttons on the padd and handed it back to Nathan. Quinn studied the padd. "Hmmm he's had a very... colorful background. But with your recommendation I'm sure he'll make a find addition to our crew. Please run this pass Lt. Commander James, I've been looking forward to getting down to the planet."

Just then the turbolift came to a stop and the doors opened, "This is my stop" Quinn said as he stepped out into the corridor.  Just as the doors shut D'Callan saw Nicholas Took carrying several traveling bags join the Captain. Joseph smiled and tapped his com badge, "D'Callan to James.. I would like to speak with you sir at your earliest convenience"

[X]

Lieutenant Commander James sat at his desk and completed transmitting his reports to Quinn's computer. He had made several recommendations for the improvement of the ship and summaries of the meeting that he had conducted. Initial reports from the corps of engineers had provided him more information on the classified work that they were doing in the secondary warp corp. Upon arriving at the station, both Aeric and Quinn had been briefed on Project Eagle and it's placement on the Arabella. With all of the work going on with the ship and the recovery of the crew, the SCE were able to perform the tasks that they needed to complete with little interruption.

Aeric took the last sip of his water and started to rise when his comm badge chimed.

"D'Callan to James.. I would like to speak with you sir at your earliest convenience."

Aeric sat his mug down. With Quinn leaving to go planet-side, he would be handling the ship business that would normally be reserved for the captain, but it was obvious that Quinn needed a break. "James here. It just so happens that I can meet with you now. Where would you like to meet Joseph?"

[Feathers]

Galdar walked across Ops, holding himself as erect as his physiology would permit. At times like this he was uniquely aware of the differences between himself and most of the rest of his starfleet comrades. It wasn't that anyone would ever dream of highlighting species differences but Galdar felt it anyway. He laid it at the door of his self imposed exile rather than any personal insecurity, but he was aware of the risks of such self analysis and diagnosis. There was no doubt a good task for an experienced counsellor here if ever Galdar chose to seek one out.

He paused at the door to the Commander's office and looked around, taking in the buzz of activity him and the control plots depicting the local region of space. Despite his discomfort with crew in large numbers, he felt at home here and had always looked forward to getting an Ops shift one day. In the light of what he was about to do, that would probably not now happen.

He tapped the control at the side of the door and waited.

"Come" came the muffled voice from inside. The doors slid apart.

Galdar entered to see the Commander returning to his desk from the direction of the replicator, the steaming mug in his hand confirming his departure point.

"Yes Ensign?"

"Sir..." Galdar breathed deeply and attempted to settle himself. "Sir, I wanted to have a private word."

Commander Radrek sat at the desk and motioned Galdar towards one of his few chairs. Not entirely in line with protocol, it somehow seemed appropriate for a 'private word'. When Galdar remained silent, Radrek raised an eyebrow and regarded him quietly.

"Sir, I want to inform you that I am looking to apply for a transfer to the Arabella. I'd like to try and achieve that while she's still docked."

The Vulcan steepled his fingers and regarded the young Ferengi. "Go on."

Galdar hesitated. "Sir, this station has a very capable flight crew and over the last four months I've come to know and respect many of them. In that time, however, the opportunity to fly has not been all that I had hoped for."

A command officer of any other species would have smiled at this. Radrek simply looked impassively at the junior officer. The young Ferengi would be neither the first nor last pilot to complain of insufficient flight time. Radrek himself had expressed similar concerns to one of his first commanders although he had been entirely logical in his assessment of that situation. He was sure that the same could not be said of the Ferengi before him.

"Ensign, while I can understand your stated dissatisfaction with the position you hold, I do not think that you have fully considered the implications of what you are suggesting. The Arabella is a small command, while this station is large. Logic suggests that a young officer in your position will stand to gain more experience by staying on the station than by transferring to a ship."

"Sir", Galdar responded, "I have considered all that you are saying and I accept that there are risks implicit in what I am requesting but risk is part of the game... and I intend to play it for all it's worth."

"Ah, the 143rd Rule of Acquisition", the commander sat back as he said this.

"Sir?" asked Galdar, confused.

"You might remember the 79th rule, Ensign". On any other face, the expression that accompanied this statement would have been described as a smirk.

"Beware of the Vulcan greed for knowledge." Galdar laughed as he quoted this and found that it acted as a release for some of the tension he'd been feeling.

[Meds]

JOINT POST BY JUSTX AND HAWKEYEMEDS

"James here. It just so happens that I can meet with you now. Where would you like to meet Joseph?"

D'Callan thought for a moment and then replied back to the XO

"I'll meet you in the quieter part of the Afterburner, i was aiming to get some food down me before i leave for shore leave"

"On my way"

Joseph walked  out of the turbo lift and straight into the Afterburner, it was fairly quiet so getting a table by the viewport windows was easy. He signalled to the barman who understood Josephs request. Sitting facing the glittering stars Joseph put his PADD down and stretched out making a few cracking sounds as he did. The barman came to the table and placed the glass tumbler down in front oh him.

"Can you get me Aeric Jame's usual please oh and two menu's"

The barman nodded and headed back for the orders. A seat pulled out as Aeric joined Joseph.

"I've got you your usual and a couple of menu's"

Aeric smiled "So what can i do for you Joseph?"

Joseph picked up the PADD and glided his fingers over the panel. "I saw Captain Quinn earlier and gave him my report on Ensign Bowers. I also mentioned to  him about a young pilot I met on the station. eager chap, a Ferenghi as well"

Aeric raised an eye brow as Joseph handed him the PADD. "A Ferenghi aye. Well we've got a good selection of races on this ship so a Ferenghi would fit in well. He's had a colourfull time hasn't he. Looks like he's a bit eager to get off the station"

Joseph lent out of the way as the barman put Aerics drinks down and the menu. "Mate I'll have a steak, cooked blue from room temperature"

Aeric also ignored the menu "Fish of the day thank you"

Putting the PADD down Aeric lent back. "OK, lets give him a trial. I'll do the red tape but can i leave you in charge of bringing him over, once you have had your shore leave of course"

D'Callan nodded and raised his glass to the XO who did the same in reply.

"Joseph have you thought anymore about the team building exercise we talked about during our last meeting"

D'Callan laughed. "Sir I have only just sat down since last talking to you, bar a little snooze. The Bowers investigation took a while"

"Yes I read that"

"Then Bowers got him self into the brig on the station so i had to bring him back"

"Yes I heard about that"

"And then we had a new security crewman come aboard who fancies himself as a bit of handfull"

"Yes I saw him come aboard"

Joseph looked at Aeric. "Eyes everywhere aye"

The two men laughed and Joseph continued. "It would be good to get all the personnel together in a meeting to discuss these games. As the Captain as rightly taken some extended shore leave it would be fantastic if we could get the games going and then have the crew bonded together for the Captains return"

Aeric pondered for a second and then shook his head in agreement.

"Excellent. Now that's sorted and I can leave you with obtaining Ensign Galdar I'll be enjoying this fish dish even more, whenever it arrives.

[iceman]

Dr. Peterson slowly finished packing his luggage only having realized recently, the heavy burden he carried regarding his past. He had become so blinded by hate for the Borg, that it had started to affect his life in far reaching ways.

Casey could not believe he had carried the pain of the loss of his family for so long and had come to realize that he could not run from his personal pain any longer. He had decided that after some much needed rest he would recommit himself to his future and stop dwelling on the past as he zipped up his luggage.

Myella called out to her husband, " Are You almost ready Dear?" "Almost  he responded, their is just one more thing I have to do.

Casey went over to his computer terminal and sent Margon a Message requesting a counselling session for when he and his wife returned from shoreleave.

He smiled as he thought to himself, "Today is the beginning of the rest of my life" as he walked out of his quarters arm in arm with his wife.

[Feathers]

As the Commander's office doors hissed shut behind him, Galdar sighed. The interview was finished and he'd received Commander Radrek's blessing on his transfer application. It had actually been easier then he'd expected since, with his logic rejected, the Vulcan had not resorted to any sort of emotional appeal in order to retain the young Ferengi. Rather, the time had been spent discussing the differences in the service experiences to be had on a starship over those of a Starbase.

At one point, Galdar would almost have described the Commander's tones as 'wistful' as he'd recounted some of his service aboard various vessels over the many years of his career.

In all, the experience had been almost pleasant for Galdar, a fact which surprised him. He obviously didn't know the Commander well but he'd expected much more of a confrontation.

As he headed for the turbolift, he started to compose his transfer request in his head but broke off abruptly as he realised what he ought to do first.

"Deck 6, accommodation area", he called as the lift doors closed.

[Meds]

"The Arabella was made from an old ship young man. The remains of the USS Lemures was recycled in making this ship"

Micheal shifted slightly away from the old man who continued to speak.

"Ah the Lemures. Those poor souls"

"What happened?" asked Micheal.

The old man looked at him from the corner of his eye. "A containment leak or something like that exploded near the core. Before anyone knew about it a wind so powerfull flew through the ship like the devils own whistle"

Micheal looked around and then back at the old man "Did no one survive?"

"No-one. They felt the pain, the agony, the bodies ripped apart one by one. They say you can hear the screams on part of your ship. It's cursed young man. CURSED"

Michael stood up "I think I've heard enough of this nonsense"

"You'll see young man, you'll see. Ha ha ha"

Leaving the cackling old caretaker Michael headed up to meet some of the other crew, looking behind him he didn't notice one of the Commanders in his way and bumped straight into him.

"Easy ensign are you in a rush?"

"Sorry, sorry Sir, I was just wondering where that old man had gone"

The Commander looked down at him. "Old man? Is he a guest?"

Michael looked up at the Commander. "No he's the caretaker here, he was sitting on a iron bench"

The Commander looked over at a plastic glass seating area "Ensign, there is no iron bench and the last caretaker who was old died ten years ago"

Michael looked shocked and began to slur his words "But he mentioned USS Lemures, he said Lemures was, was destroyed"

The Commander smiled. "Lemures is Latin for Ghosts Ensign" He patted him on the shoulder and walked away leaving Micheal standing there with his mouth open.