Mission 3: "Pilgrims"

Sickbay
Brad Silverton and Tyrlai Zade

Tyrlai strode in fresh from her encounter with the very frightening clever children and hopped on one of the bio beds and started peeling her bandages off. They had started without her over the last two hours and were beginning to get a bit annoying half peeling half the time. Undoing the coset like covering shed been wearing she pulled at the bits and strips underneath. She looked over to where the good Doctor was sitting, probably busy with something or such. "Hey, I need to get a once over, it still hurts and its swimsuit season in,..." she paused thinking, "a buncha places and I don't want any scars."

Brad was engrossed with reviewing the sickbay's inventory on a display for what had to have been a dozen times now. He had been told everything was delivered and setup but he wasn't going to be taking any chances. That and it kept him busy from having to think about finding Vulcan... adult entertainment that the Captain tasked him to find. He casually looked up at Tyrlai.

"Whoa Lieutenant Zade! Slow down you are going to make it worse." He quickly came over to her in an attempt to prevent things from getting worse. "Here let me look at that."

Tyrlai smiled one of her friendly and slightly bewitching smiles she often used to get people to do things for her. "It's not just swimsuit season that is important here. I have a lizard to fight, at least Im pretty sure I do." She thought about the issue for a moment. "Oh yes, and diplomacy. Almost forgot that part. So how are things with you, any lizards to fight here?"

Brad looked up from the bandages and smirked slightly. "No no lizards or Gorn thankfully I've had enough of them for awhile." He returns to attending to her abdomen wound but continues talking, "I appreciate the honesty Lieutenant about not wanting scars. You'd be surprised how many people come to see me and not wanting me to talk about clearing up some possible scars as if its not becoming for a Federation officer. We have the technology why not put it to some use... hmmmm. Well the good news is I don't think this will leave any permanent scars. That armor you had on prevented it from going too deep. The bad news is your fussing with the bandages just now did make it worse. This'll take a good hour or so I'm afraid with the dermal regenerator."

"Well I suppose it could be worse." Tyrlai looked over at the contraption she had been wearing. "I had to meet stuffy diplomats in that, they were not impressed. Which I guess is good so hey, hidden upside."

She almost missed the quizzical look on the Doctors face, she was getting too used to that from people. "Oh, first impression can be clingy things. Now the lead diplomat has dismissed me and generally written me off. Thus leaving me free to act. By the time she realizes Im up to something it might well be too late to stop me." She smiled and leaned back on the medical bay, having adjusted it to a lounging position. She motioned to her attire. "Sports bras do not impress ambassadors at formal introductions. There look at all the diplomacy you are learning."

"Thats a good point on first impressions." Brad heads to a cabinet and brings back a dermal regenerator that he begins setting it in place above Tyrlai's abdomen and also brings a hypo holding it up. "This'll be for any discomfort you still might be having." He flips a switch and the regenerator begins sweeping back and forth. "This will prevent any complications of bad first impressions. We don't want it to impact your diplomatic efforts. Normally this wouldn't take long but do its proximity to Zade anything too strong would agitate it, er him, er you, ok well whats the proper terminology here?"

"It was most recently a him before me so I often call it a him but that's not really accurate. Zade is acceptable, that name is uniquely the symbionts. But at the same time Im often called Zade 'The symbiont' is probably also the proper term but seems somewhat informal. An old crewmate of mine used the term, 'duplicitous Yankee slug' quite often but he was from Texas and therefore not a trustworthy source of information. I think the symbiont is the best in these situations, and bear in mind he's listening to everything we say. Sneaky little cave dweller." Tyrlai said every bit of it with a dour and serious look of someone who was long practiced in evading the topic of discussion.

"So what about you, have a girlfriend on whatever planet you came from?"

Having set the dermal regenerator on auto, Brad leaned against the side of the biobed. "No. No girlfriend back home. I was serious about a girl once. Contemplated proposing level of serious. Years ago though and I got over her long ago. Early life of Starfleet is rough with all the transfers and stations. Its probably for the best though as it drove my parents nuts and I think a part of me was with her to spite them. How about you? Does swimsuit diplomacy create any complications for someone in your life?"

"It was most recently a him before me so I often call it a him but that's not really accurate. Zade is acceptable, that name is uniquely the symbionts. But at the same time Im often called Zade 'The symbiont' is probably also the proper term but seems somewhat informal. An old crewmate of mine used the term, 'duplicitous Yankee slug' quite often but he was from Texas and therefore not a trustworthy source of information. I think the symbiont is the best in these situations, and bear in mind he's listening to everything we say. Sneaky little cave dweller." Tyrlai said every bit of it with a dour and serious look of someone who was long practiced in evading the topic of discussion.

"So what about you, have a girlfriend on whatever planet you came from?"

Having set the dermal regenerator on auto, Brad leaned against the side of the biobed. "No. No girlfriend back home. I was serious about a girl once. Contemplated proposing level of serious. Years ago though and I got over her long ago. Early life of Starfleet is rough with all the transfers and stations. Its probably for the best though as it drove my parents nuts and I think a part of me was with her to spite them. How about you? Does swimsuit diplomacy create any complications for someone in your life?"

"Generally," Tyrlai paused, appeared to consider the question at least momentarily, "generally I am the one who created the complications in other peoples lives. I'm not girlfriend material, not for partners who like their lives to go smoothly, and their belongings in one piece or anything. I have a degree in psychology and would be more than willing to help them put the pieces together but that requires still being on speaking terms." She didn't want to seem too foreboding and quickly added. "I'm a lot of fun in measured doses."

"Generally," Tyrlai paused, appeared to consider the question at least momentarily, "generally I am the one who created the complications in other peoples lives. I'm not girlfriend material, not for partners who like their lives to go smoothly, and their belongings in one piece or anything. I have a degree in psychology and would be more than willing to help them put the pieces together but that requires still being on speaking terms." She didn't want to seem too foreboding and quickly added. "I'm a lot of fun in measured doses."

Brad lightly chuckled at the joke, "Thankfully for Barjorran-Federation relations they only had a measured dose." Brad checks the regenerator's settings then sits back down beside Tyrlai. "Its probably best you don't get to the psycho-analyzing to help a guy put the pieces back. I've never known that to end very well."

"You've seen someone try before though? Cause I was joking about that part." She smirked and stretched a little on the biobed, she was unused to being in a single position very long. Tending to wander out of rooms long before any muscle stiffness had managed itself. "As for Bajoran relations I got a nice letter from the Prime Minister thanking me for my contributions and requesting I visit again sometime in the future. 'Long future' was the actual term but it was signed and had the official seal and everything. I gave it to Thosk, he collects important signatures for some reason."

She looked down at where the dermal regenerator was slowly erasing the burns from her abdomen. "Oooh that is nice. I hear this is a tropical planet, there could be beaches."

Brad was partially lost in thought and starring off for a second. "Yeah I've seen a few try. Not sure what it is about women wanting to go off and 'fix' a guy. Must be why the bad boys always get the girl." He returned his gaze to Tyrlai. "As for beaches. I'd imagine there might be a few but the Captain is headed down to the capital which is far inland in the far north. Perhaps ski diplomacy in this case would be in order?" Brad said with a smirk.

"There is a lot of skiing on Trill. I prefer beaches." Tyrlai watched as the good doctor began finishing up. "Will you be coming down with us mister Silverton?"

"It certainly sounds inviting but I'm afraid this time at least I'll have to pass. Lt Beauvoir is needing my help with a medical condition. Another time perhaps?"

"Something tells me you'll get there soon enough."  Tyrlai said, unable to lift her growing suspicions of the Bajorn splinter colony.

Holo-shopping
Judith's Quarters, USS Portland
MD3, 1900 hrs
Authors:  Cmdr. Alenis Meru, Capt. Judith Rouse (played by Timothy Rouse), Coln Jena (played by Jason Beauvoir)


With only a day before arrival at Gamia III, Alenis had one task on her list that she was looking forward to: taking a certain Acting Crewman shopping for formal wear. Standing outside Judith's quarters, she rang the chime.

At the sound of the chime, Jena came running. She was very excited. She hadn't been clothes shopping since before her mother's death. The thought of her mother made her sad, but she wiped away the tears and opened door. Seeing Alenis she smiled. "Hi Captain, how are you? Are you ready to help find me some fancy threads?"

"That's the plan, at least," replied Alenis, making note of the redness around Jena's eyes. The poor girl had been through a lot in the past few weeks, between the death of her mother, nearly dieing of radiation poisoning, and now her father being locked up in the brig. "I've booked some time in holodeck two; you ready to try on some new clothes?"

"Jena are you ready jet?" Judith asked as she entered the living area of her quearters. "Ah, Captain, you're here already." Judith looked at Jena. Looking after Jena had taught herself something new. In contrast to what she always thought, she did have a maternal bone in her body.

"Ah, Ms. Rouse, are you coming with us?" asked Alenis. She hadn't planned on inviting Judith, not that she had any objections to her presence.

"Of course I am.  Do you have any idea how long its been since I went shopping? Shopping and Marines don't really go together," she answered.

"Well, the more the merrier, as you humans say. Lets go."

Alenis led the party through the corridors of the Portland, walking a little slower than her usual brisk pace so Judith would have no trouble keeping up. "So, these Gamians are a very conservative society, so we'll need something elegant but not to showy. Of course, we can also pick up some other things for ourselves," she said as they made their way to the turbolifts. Truth be told, she wouldn't mind shopping for a new evening gown, preferably something black to match her hair and dark eyes.

As they headed to the holodeck, Jena wondered which colours the Gamians allowed. She doubted that aqua was among them, more's the pity.

*******************
Five minutes later
Holodeck Two, USS Portland


"Hello, Madamoiselles, what can I do for you?" asked the holographic attendant in a francophone accent as Alenis, Judith, and Jena strolled into a holographic recreation of a clothing store. Behind them, traffic buzzed along the wide tree-lined Champs-Élysées, or at least as close as you can get to the real thing on a tiny starship light-years away.

"We have a reception tomorrow, and Jena here doesn't have any appropriate formal wear," replied Alenis.

"Ah, say no more, say no more. You have come to the right place. Is madame Jena your daughter?"

"Non, Monsieur." Jena said.

Judith chuckled at the question, but even more on the short answer of Jena. She was apparently acute lost for words. "What can you recommend?" she asked the hologram.

"Well, if this is a formal occasion, we do have a nice turquoise number over here that would be perfect," replied the holographic salesman, pointing to a sequined turquoise gown.

"No, that is too flashy." Alenis wanted to make sure everything at this diplomatic reception went smoothly. Not just for the sake of the mission, but also for the sake of her own career. After how badly the last diplomatic event went, she needed to do something to make up points with Admiral Washington, and wasn't about to risk it for the sake of a flashy dress. "Do you have anything in mauve?"

"Mauve is so not in style this season, but we may have something for you on one of these racks," said the salesman as he quickly flipped through the hanging clothes. "Ah, how about this, madame Jena?" he asked, pulling out a dull, frumpy mauve dress.

"Oh, that is lovely. You really need to try that one one!" Judith said.

"I like the colour, the cut is interesting and I think I'll try it on." Jena said diplomatically.

"Great!" replied Alenis, scanning the dresses on display as Jena walked over to the change rooms. "Judith, what do you think of that little black number over there? I could use a new formal gown."

"Well, try it on. That the only way to know if it will fit" Judith said as she walked to the other side of the room. "Do you have something in Dark Green."

"Yes, we do," replied the salesman. "Come with me."

******************************
10 minutes later
******************************

"Well, what do you think?" asked Alenis, stepping out of the dressing room in an elegant black gown, trying to get the attention of Judith, who was the first to leave the dressing room.

“It looks nice” Judith said after watching the new bright blue dress she was wearing in a mirror. “And this one?”

“Looks great,” replied Alenis. “It matches your eyes, and I like the neckline.” She glanced over at the dressing room and lowered her voice. “How is Jena doing?”

She looked at the dressing room behind her. “Are you ok, Jena? Do you need a hand?”

"I'm okay, the fastenings are just a little unfamiliar so it's taking a little longer than I'd have liked." Jena explained from behind the curtain.

Alenis silently took Judith by the arm and guided her to the other side of the shop. "I meant, how is she handling the situation with her father?" she whispered.

Judith looked behind her before answering. “difficult to read. When she is alone she is very quiet, maybe even too quiet. But when I enter the room she becomes a whole other person, or so it seems. Active, happy.”

“Do you think she’s trying to conceal her feelings?” asked Alenis. She spent a lot of time growing up hiding in her room. “Does her activity around others seem like it might be an act?”

“I’m not a counselor, but I think she tries to hide her true feelings, yes” Judith replied

“Hmmmmmm,” Alenis thought for a moment. “She’s been through a lot. Do you think she might benefit from seeing Dr. Darze?”

“Who’s Dr Darze?” Jena asked coming out of the dressing room, having finally worked out how to fasten the dress.

Alenis took a breath. She didn’t count on the one eighth Vulcan part of Jena to be her hearing. But, with her clearly having heard part of their conversation, there was no point in denying what they said. “Jena, we’ve been worried about how you’ve been coping with the events of the past couple weeks. I can’t imagine how stressful it has been for you, and if you need help with anything, we can book you an appointment with the ship’s counselor.”
“Sure, I like meeting new people.” Jena said in a happy mood. She was worried about Jason, but it had been made clear to her that there was nothing she could do right now, so she’d decided to put on a happy face, at least in public

“Great. We can book you an appointment with him. He’s really good,” replied Alenis, gushing at the skills of her favourite counselor. “What do you think of the dress?”

“It is functional, ma’am.” Jena said in her best Vulcan impression.

“It looks good on you,” replied Alenis. “Lets get it!”

Going down, part II
Somewhere over Gamia III
MD4, 1730 hrs
Authors:  Cmdr. Alenis Meru, Capt. Judith Rouse (played by Timothy Rouse), Lt. Tyrlai Zade, Acting Crewman Coln Jena (played by Jason Beauvoir)

Alenis lay back in the co-pilot's chair. It had been a while since she had flown one of these Argo transports, but she was still qualified to take the right seat. Being the captain, she didn't get to fly around in shuttles and lead away teams much anymore; Captains tended to stick to the ship unless their presence was requested for diplomatic reasons. She looked over at Major Judith Rouse, her executive officer’s sister. Judith had a smug, satisfied look on her face; even though an Argo transport was a far cry from a Razor fighter, Alenis could tell that she enjoyed flying.

"So, Major Rouse, how are you enjoying the Portland?" asked Alenis.

"Um, permission to speak freely, captain?"

"Go ahead."

"Well, it's kind of--" Judith's voice was interrupted by a klaxon going off in the cockpit. She glanced down at a screen, a horrified expression appearing on her face. "Fasten your seat belts!" she shouted, a split second before veering the shuttle into a steep turn.

"What's going on?!" shouted Alenis, her arms on the control panel, steadying herself.

"Surface-to-air-missile off our port bow!" The ship veered to the left again, giving the diplomats a rough ride. Tora was thrown from her seat, smashing her face against the bulkhead. "Try targeting it with the aft phaser array!"

Alenis' fingers danced over the control panel. "I can't get a lock!"

When Jena saw what happen to the diplomat, she wanted to help her, but knew there was nothing she could do until shuttle was stabilized again, so instead she clutched on her own seat for dear life, wondering why there were no safety harnesses on this thing.

Reacting quickly, Judith threw the transport into a barrel roll -- a maneuver which was definitely beyond the recommended performance envelope of an Argo transport -- trying to shake the lock, but to no avail. "It's locked onto our engines!" In the back, Tora's unconscious body landed in Tyrlai's lap. Tyrlai in turn wriggled free and pulled the limp woman to a prone and safer position on the floor. She then walked towards a rear display panel her long legs balancing her deftly as the shuttle banked and turned, and opened a small storage panel and pulled out a field repair kit.

Alenis fired the aft phasers again, trying to destroy the missile. "Dammit! I can't hit this thing."

Novia watched the other Trill work her way back and began to stand to see if she could help. She didn't really figure there was anything she could do but she was scared and just being near a less strange face helped.

Tyrlai snapped a finger at the girls direction, "Stay right where you are." Her admonishment only barely audible over the sounds of Thosk's screaming.

Novia blinked and sat back down, unable to hid a look of disappointment and rejection even as the ship rattled and shook around her.

"Twenty seconds to impact!" shouted Alenis. "Major, how well does this thing glide?"

"An Argo transport?" Judith was incredulous. The stubby wings on the overgrown shuttle provided a negligible amount of lift, and the aerodynamic controls might well have not been there for the amount of good they did. If Alenis was suggesting what she thought she was suggesting, it would take a miracle of airmanship and a fair bit of luck. "About as well as a brick."

Tyrlai started wiring a field generator with a piece of medical equipment and opened the patch port to a main conduit, her fingers moving quickly and deftly as she counted down from twenty in her head.

"It'll have to do. Take us low over the harbour."

Jena closed her eyes and tried to go limp.

"Preparing to dump the impulse reactor core in three..." shouted Alenis as the frantically inputted commands into the control panel, overriding numerous safeties and lockouts in order to her perform her ill-advised act.

One of the children screamed in a short burst of panic.

"Two..."

Thosk screamed in a long burst of apocalyptic terror and in much the same pitch as the children.

"One!" Alenis hammered on a bright red touchkey, dumping the entire reactor core. With all kinds of alarms and klaxons going off in the cockpit, she closed her eyes and offered a quick prayer to the prophets, hoping that the missile would follow the reactor and not the rest of the ship.

Alenis' prayers were answered by a loud explosion coming from behind and below the transport. Her plan worked, but now with only the stubby wings to guide them down and some primitive aerodynamic controls, her life and the lives of everyone on the transport were in Judith's hands.

“Hold on!” shouted Judith as she pulled back on the yoke, desperately trying to keep the nose up. For a woman used to flying high-performance starfighters, attempting to glide a bulky Argo transport to a semi-safe crash landing was a strange sensation. If she could just keep the nose up, she figured, she could burn off some airspeed and, if she was lucky, they’d skim along the surface of the water, slowing them to a stop, rather than smashing hard into the water. She adjusted the dihedral of the wings, folding them up just enough that they would still provide some control without digging in before the fuselage and sending the transport cartwheeling into the water.

Alenis had a front row view of the ever-approaching surface of the water. Fortunately, the Gamians chose a good place for their capital; a natural harbour protected Judith's choice "landing" spot from the waves, and on the shore she could see boats already scrambling to rescue them. "Brace for impact!" she shouted as she made a couple last-minute preparations for the crash landing. A few seconds before impact, she got into the brace position. It was all up to the prophets now. And Judith.

Doing the best she could to try to get the shuttle under control Judith got flashbacks from her crash. Even 3 years later the memories of that flight were still as fresh as they were the day it happened. Nine O'clock in the evening. A routine practice session. Only it hadn't gone as planned. Due to a technical malfunction her plane has crashed in the middle of a dense almost uninhabitable planet. It had taken the ship hours to reach her. She shook her head to focus on the present day. Mere seconds before impact she managed to get the nose of the cumbersome Argo transport slightly up. Just enough to prevent them from crashing on the water with full power. The bang of landing on the water was still intense and Judith was tossed off her seat to the ground, adding to the pain in her lower back.

Tyrlai managed the last few alterations to the strange assortment of wiring at the back of the shuttle. She activated the enhancer and the inertial dampening field filled the shuttle. It was just and instant too late for Judith but made the impact and jostling much less violent for the rest of the crew and children as the shuttle hydroplaned over the leading edge of the harbor.

As the transport skidded across the surface of the water, Alenis held herself in the brace position and closed her eyes, quietly muttering prayers to the prophets. When it finally came to a stop, she held her head up and looked around. They were floating on the surface of the water; she could see out the window a boat coming her way. "Is everyone all right?" she asked as she unbuckled herself from her seat and headed towards the emergency escape hatch in the roof of the shuttle.

When Alenis asked if everyone was all right, Jena took a deep breath and opened her eyes. The place was a mess. After checking that she was still in one piece, she said."I'm okay, ma'am, Do you need a hand with that hatch?"

"Yes," replied Alenis as she buckled over in pain. Apparently crashing a shuttle into the water wasn't good for recovery from a bruised rib. She looked around, everyone had some scrapes and scratches, but Tora appeared to be badly hurt. "Open the hatch and signal for help."

"Yes, ma'am." Jena said and made her way through the others to the hatch. She recalled the opening sequence from the shuttle briefing. Running though the procedure, she opened the hatch and breathed in a gulp of fresh air. Seeing a ship approaching, she waved her arms to get their attention.

Alenis looked over the passengers in the back of the ship. Tora was seriously hurt, lying unconscious on the floor of the transport. Apart from that, there were a few scrapes and non-critical injuries. As captain, it was her job to coordinate the evacuation from the transport and to be the last one off. "We need to get Minister Tora to the shore, and call Dr. Silverton." She wasn't sure what kind of medical technology the Gamians had, but she wasn't about to take any chances. "Judith, are you all right?" asked Alenis, turning to her pilot who was struggling to stand up.

"It can be worse," she answered. "Believe me I know" As she stood up a pain stroke went through her leg and back causing her to close her eyes. Shaking of the pain and many unpleasant memories she walked towards the Minister. After she kneeled down she looked up to Alenis. "Her breathing is shallow, but she is conscious. Can you get me a tricorder to determine any serious internal damage." Seeing the questioning look on the Captains face she explained. "I'm not a doctor, but I am a certified medic. I'm a marine, remember" the last said with a grin. She knew Alenis didn't really like Marines, but probably not as much as Tim.

"Here," she said, pulling a tricorder out of a storage locker, and walking -- with some difficulty as the transport bobbed up and down and rocked to and fro in the waves -- back towards Judith. The ocean mist from the harbour filled the nostrils of everyone in the shuttle. "Everyone, get up top. Judith, can we move her?"

Judith had done her scans but couldn't determine any internal bleeding. Her vital signs looked good, for someone being unconscious. "I think so, but I can't help you with that." she said as she looked up at Meru, hoping she wouldn't need to explain the exact reason for it.

“Do we have enough power to transport her to the shore?” asked Alenis, looking up at the small hatch in the roof of the shuttle. She was reluctant to use the transporter, after all, she didn’t want to startle the locals who had never developed transporter technology, but it would be difficult to lift her out through the tiny emergency hatch without risking further injury.

“I’ll guess we have to” Judith said following the Captain’s gaze at the hatch. “Or we use the ship’s transporters.”

“All right,” replied Alenis, walking over to the co-pilot’s seat. Standing at the controls, she brought up the transporter interface. “Looks like we have enough left in the emergency batteries for one transport. I’m going to beam you and Minister Tora onto the docks. Call Dr. Silverton when you materialize. Prepare for transport.”

“Will do,” Judith replied before she and Tora disappeared from the shuttle in a flash of light.

Alenis smiled back at Judith. With the last of the passengers climbing out of the hatch, she looked around the shuttle one last time before following them to the roof. At least this time, everyone made it off all right

Tyrlai was somewhere outside marshalling the children into a boat. "So who here has learned about pirates? Yes, no,...? Well you are all in luck, cause I was a pirate and I know exactly how its done. First there is a lot of slang, like 'arrrg' and 'avast ye mateys' but even more important is picking a proper target. You want to pick one riding low in the water like it has a lot of valuable stuff in its 'booty', that's another pirate word,..."

Xylophone
Harbor Beach, Planetary Capitol
MD4, 1820
Authors: Cmdr. Alenis Meru, Lt. Tyrlai Zade


Standing under a row of trees just inside the crest of the beach where the shore grasses took hold in the sandy soil. Tyrlai Zade stood pushing her long black hair out of her eyes as the sea breezes swept past the figures gathered along the shoreline.

A small crowd had gathered to watch the Federation ‘outsiders’ gather as the shuttle was slowly towed towards the shore in hope of beaching it before it sank. At the fringe of the crowd where the buildings of the Capital rose from the packed and almost stony ground a quad of women dressed head to toe in ornate and colorful religious themed garments.

Tyrlai stepped over to where the CO was standing, watching Doctor Silverton work on the unconscious Minister. “I’m going to break some rules and throw a wrench in the process. I want to slow this down and give us a chance to investigate this attack ourselves. I will not be reasonable and you may have to step in and be the cooler head at some point. Ill make a hand gesture or use the word ‘xylophone’ or something.”

“Just try not to cause a diplomatic incident, okay?” asked Alenis, having a bad feeling that she was going to have to answer to Admiral Washington on this one.

“I refuse to hold to such restrictive requirements.”

One of the figures took the lead, clasping her hands in front of her and smiling weakly through a worried frown. “We apologize for this most unfortunate incident. We are already working to find those responsible and bring them to justice.”

Tyrlai turned her face suddenly a masque of barely controlled fire, blue eyes and a practiced piercing gaze forged over eight odd centuries fixed the planetary welcome committee. She had been on Portland for only a few weeks and had not had much time to interact with her CO but at no point had she seen a fully serious side of the Trill woman. “And you are?”

If the speaker was intimidated she did not let on exactly. “I am Tenge Fex, first minister of the exotic. Dealing with offworlders is one of my responsibilities.

Tyrlai at six feet without her boots was the tallest of those present and was employing that advantage, she stepped forward and looked down. “And who, praytell would be responsible for security or,” and she motioned for effect, “a clear lack thereof.”

“As I said, we regret the,...”

“Your words are not comforting, there were children on that shuttle. We would not have risked the journey if we knew that you could barely secure your Capital city.”

“Im, sorry,...” the minister of the exotic for a moment seeming to be affected by the Trill woman’s aggressive stance, “and you are?”

“I am Ambassador Zade, and in a hundred years of representing the Federation this is the first time my shuttle has been attacked en route.” Tyrlai’s voice was level and she affected an edge of restraint as if she were barely containing pure rage. She was also lying through her teeth, it was at least the fourth time this had happened.

Minister Tenge seemed to also seemed to have a distinct and rising edge to her voice as she began to gather herself, stepping forward towards the taller and clearly not hundred year old Federation representative. “I will reiterate our regret that the actions of,...”

“Your actions, Minister.” Tyrlai sneered, her features cold, her eyes flaring slightly unblinking. “The Federation does not extend membership to those who can't control their own weaponry.”

“We teach our children more respect when meeting new people than apparently the parents in your Federation.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Tyrlai cocked her head, feigning offense at the topic of discussion. “I don’t have parents, I'm afraid.” There were a few muttered gasps from onlookers and at least one of the other ministers.

“You are an orphan?”

“Disowned,” Tyrlai pressed, “I can be belligerent,...”

The gasps were louder and sharper and Tyrlai winced psychologically, she didn’t show so much as a shred but she could tell from the tones of the gasps that she had made some fashion of error.

Minister of the Exotic Tenge Fex turned to Alenis with a look of pleasantly feigned regret. “Perhaps you will understand.” She gave a slight shift of her head towards the Trill. “She has no D’jarra, it is an act of dishonor to have her present.”

“The Federation does not recognize your quaint, D’jarras,..” Tyrlai started expressing her contempt for the very concept. The crowd moved forward, her tone was unacceptable to a normal person much less a minister. Tyrlai furrowed her brow and doubled down, actually getting angry this time.

Alenis cringed. No one told them they used D’jarras. She didn’t even know hers, and felt it was one of those things in ancient Bajoran traditions that were best left in the past. “My apologies, minister, our diplomatic officer is unfortunately not well versed in Bajoran tradition.” Alenis stepped out from the throng of dazed and confused Bajoran diplomats with horrified expressions on their faces and out in front of Tyrlai. “Why don’t we continue this discussion of D’jarras in a more pleasant setting; at the reception, perhaps?” Before they could answer,
she turned to Tyrlai. “You are dismissed,” she said in a stern tone, while offering the angry Trill a wink.

Tyrlai turned, muttering ‘xylophone’ under her breath as she walked back towards the beach. Her plan had more or less worked except for the D’jarras and the notion that she had completely disqualified herself. Nevertheless she had a theory that the missile had come from the northeast, and apparently had some free time on her hands.

Conflicts of duty
Bridge, USS Portland
MD5, 1400
Authors: Lt. Parker Hudson, Lt. (JG) Brad Silverton, and Ensign Jita Kejal


“Why the heck did we get away from this?” Jita mused of her station’s layout, even more impressed than when she moved from the form-over-function stools of Boone’s Astrometrics lab to their more rational, supportive, if still somewhat contrived cousins on the Intrepid-class starship's bridge. The oldest active ship class in the fleet wouldn’t have struck her as an obvious answer to the most comfortable duty station arrangement she would experience, yet the only complaint she had in four days of manning ops on the Portland was that its chair lacked side bolstering for those inevitable instances of turbulence. It was fantastic otherwise; sturdier than either stool, the bulk of her praise lie with its arc shape creating a natural transition from seat to backrest. Jita's posture was thus comfortable and well-matched to her console, which resided within ready sight and reach. She loomed over many of the Boone's in comparison, ironic considering her hardly imperious five-foot-five stature.

One of Portland's foibles helped inspire the thought. A downscaled derivative of still-capable ships like the Galaxy and Nebula, her isolinear computer architecture ultimately lacked the speed and capacity of the hybrid bio-neural systems justified by the more numerous and complex operations of cutting-edge ships like the Sovereign or Intrepid, also designed to accommodate them from inception. Its efforts to offer the most rigidly precise answer to Jita's calculation input lent an expected split-second delay in which the sentiment sprung, she'd become so accustomed to the Boone's relative immediacy. But she was so cozy, it didn't bother her at first.

When several more split seconds passed without a response, an intrigued Jita reflexively punched up a system usage schematic on one of her readouts, a telling, if not completely revealing measure she investigated further even after the computer finally fulfilled her original request. Maintaining orbit around a mostly complaisant planet wasn't a particularly demanding task, which she attributed to being mercifully spared of others asking about the computer as she trudged her way to an answer. . .

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

Engineering Lab


Parker's eyes scrolled over the computer interface in the lab ensuring that the download of Alenis' body and neural topography scans were stable. Just storing the system program in the Portland's main computer was taking up a large amount of ship's resources and energy. However, it was well worth the time and efforts as it was to be used to save one of the crew's lives.

"Looks like everything is remaining stable at the moment." Parker spoke to Silverton. "When I initiate the Captain..." Parker crossed his arms and leaned up against the back bulk head. "What are we going to tell her?"

Brad took a few steps pacing back and forth in thought. "That's a good question. I think everyone had been putting this part off or simply ignoring it. I know I have." He stopped to look up at Parker. "I think we have to be direct and honest. She is going to be sentient or as close as possible. She'll have to be to trick Jason." Brad shook his head in disbelief. "I still can't believe we are going to be tricking a fellow Starfleet officer into having sex with his captain. They'll have to re-write the ethic section of the Starfleet Officer Code of Conduct over this one that's for sure."

Parker laughed to himself and shook his head.

"To answer your question... she will have all the personality of the captain and thus her sense of duty and compassion to help. I would presume she'll agree with it."

"Ops to Engineering Lab," came an unfamiliar female voice via intercom.

Parker slapped at his comm badge. "Hudson here go ahead."

"I just ran a system diagnostic to pin down a latency drop off that flagged the EMH program. Changes made under your credentials put it way over its maximum storage allocation because of a smorgasbord of additional code that's been routed to execute through primary system processing." A quizzical cadence guided the voice in a different direction from the scolding tone another might've adopted for the implication. "What are you doing down there?"

Parker's jaw dropped letting out a silence. He was perplexed. He did not expect this. Perhaps he should have from the Portland's operations officer. He pulled up the systems engineering readouts and then the Portland's operational sensor clusters. "You must be receiving a false flag reaction readout Ops." He still did not know who he was speaking too. "I am working on the computer core flex data mounts, nothing to worry about!" Parker assured.

“I’m not sure you should make that your final answer, Lieutenant,” the intercom speaker coolly redirected. “Performing ODN maintenance on an active vessel without Ops collaboration is a safety and security protocol breach I’m supposed to report. I don’t like the tie-ups it can create, but not so much that I'll risk getting my butt raked over the coals for someone who thinks I’m an idiot.”

Parker paused and took a deep quiet breathe inward to his self. He was not up to this shit right now. He was having a hard time dealing with a complex codec with the systems working for the Captain and Lt. Beauvoir, let alone having to toe the line around Portland's regulations officer apparently.

"Actually the coals you speak are under my ass right now." He continued working on setting the anodyne relays on deck 7 to re-route safeties to the holodeck in case of a power surge to save the program. "Currently I am working with Dr. Silverton under strict orders of Captain Alenis not to reveal what we are doing. This is a Security Level III encryption, feel free to look it up." He growled in return.

“I didn’t call you to have a dick-measuring contest, Lieutenant," the caller refuted, a breathy chuckle mitigating her stiffened demeanor. "I don't measure up if you haven’t already figured, and in more ways than one. But I do have a problem with someone undermining my ability to perform my duties without an explanation, regardless of whose authority they’ve got behind them. Your orders don't change that some of the projections I've run with the preliminary specs of your program suggest the ship could end up impaired at elevated status, a possibility since someone tried to blow up the captain's party on their way to the surface. In a nutshell, you may be about to ask for resource allocations we can't maintain once that program stretches its legs. At least not in our current configuration. Mirandas don't have a surplus of computing resources, and isolinear networks can be slow to reprioritize when they're backed up. That's part of how I caught onto your modifications in the first place.”

The line went momentarily silent, the reason arguably apparent when the caller resumed sans her earlier tension. “I think it can be worked around, though it'll be much harder if you decide to have Ops and Engineering play tag in the dark on this one. Now I could’ve blown the whistle from my post on the bridge. It wouldn’t have stopped you or let the cat out of the bag so much as it might’ve clued people with absolutely no need to know to something being off, and you know that's all it takes for nearly any secret on a starship to end up on borrowed time. But I know if I were you, I’d prefer me doing what I did instead: coming to you with a problem without an audience."

Another pause arose in the form of her sighing another continuance. "So did I guess right? Or do I need to hope for better luck coming up with new parameters for the rest of ship ops if we have to go beyond walking circles around Gamia?”

Brad reached forward and pressed mute to talk to Parker privately. "Parker, if she detected something then something might have gone wrong. This is going beyond our expertise and we may need her to sort this out. We have to consider letting her in on this or run the risk something happening and having to bring the captain back here to get scanned. She seemed uncomfortable with this as it is; the less we have to drag her back or bother her with this the better. Heck maybe we can just have her help without knowing that it involves Jason. You are the senior officer between us so it's your call." Brad left the channel on mute and leaned back to give Parker room.

Parker stood there at the Engineering lab where this ensign was yapping at his feet. He had not worked or ever had listened to a conversation like this before, over a communications channel on a starship especially in operations. He grinned at Silverton. "Do we really want to work with that?"

Taking his silver mug, Parker held it up to his lips and tipped it, taking in a long, slow drink. Tapping the communication open he replied calmly, "Ensign, please report to the Engineering Labs. Bring yourself nobody else."

"I think I can swing that. Be there in five minutes."

Making friends, part I
Gamia City, Gamia III
MD4, 1905 hrs
Authors:  Cmdr. Alenis Meru, Maj. Judith Rouse (played by Timothy Rouse), Coln Jena (played by Jason Beauvoir), Jita Eloru (Played by Jita Kejal)


“And one for you, and one for you, and…” Novia Yenn looked down in her goody basket. She was running out of cupcakes faster than anticipated. “One for you,” she said as she gave her last cupcake to a red-haired Bajoran girl about her age.

“Thank you!” exclaimed Jycou Aara as she examined the blue icing. “This cupcake looks delicious!”

“I hope it is,” replied Novia. “I made them myself!” she added, beaming with pride.

“You made these?!” exclaimed Jycou before taking a bite.

“Well, I made them in the replicator.”

“Weplicator?” Jycou could barely speak, her cheeks were filled with cupcake.

“It’s a--” suddenly Novia remembered the talk that the captain had given her, about how the people on the planet didn’t have all the fancy technology that she had access to on the Portland. “It’s a machine that can make food. We have them in every room on the Portland.”

“What’s a Portland?” asked Jycou.

“It’s a sea creature from Earth,” said Novia, matter-of-factly. “It has three segmented pods, with nine tentacles each. And lots of sharp pointy teeth. It’s very scary, and it’s as big as a house!”

“That sounds very scary!” exclaimed Jycou, looking down at Novia’s empty hands. “Would you like a jumja stick? They’re really good, almost as good as these cake cups.”

“I’d love one!” exclaimed Novia, grabbing Jycou’s arm. “You know, you’re my new best friend. I just hope the adults are also making friends.”


*******************************
Meanwhile, in a nearby conference room…


“How DARE you!” exclaimed Kai Sellra.

“How dare I?” shot back Rass. “How dare you invite us halfway across the sector for these historic negotiations, only to refuse to talk to us because you say our D’jarras are unclean?”

“The D’jarra is a cornerstone of Bajoran society!” Kai Sellra was equally outraged. “Our D’jarras have maintained order on Gamia III and held our society together for centuries! We would not have survived the dark days following our arrival on this planet if we did not cling to our D’jarras!”

Jena didn't know if it was her place to speak, but she had a question. "Please excuse my interruption, my name is Coln Jena and I'd like ask a few questions." When no one appeared to object she continued. "I know the D'jarras are important and that they are passed down through each family, but what happens when a new occupation is created such as Scientist, for which D'jarra are they to come, and what of those, like myself, whose fathers are not Bajoran which D'jarras do they inherit?"

Alenis raised her eyebrow at Jena. Her speaking up was an interesting turn of events, and not what she expected. But, seeing as she wasn't likely to make anything worse, she did nothing to stop her. Instead, she focused on the strange feeling she had in her abdomen. She didn't know if it was nerves or an injury from the accident, but whatever it was, it had flared up since they landed.

"D'jarras are passed down from mother to child," explained the Kai in a harsh tone, shooting Jena a glare. She looked back towards Alenis, who she felt to be the closest thing to a mother to Jena that she could find. "I find it difficult to believe that a young woman such as yourself has not been properly educated in Bajoran tradition. But, I suppose that is to be expected on the new Bajor." She paused for a moment. "And your father is not even Bajoran? What sort of blasphemy is this?"

"I meant no disrespect, ma'am. My mother was raised on Vulcan, so she didn't receive a normal Bajoran upbringing. I was born on Bajor, but I'm hardly representative of the population there. If you wish me to leave, I understand, but I would much rather you allow me to learn about your society and by extension my own history." Jena said diplomatically.

"Well, why not." Kai Sellra rolled her eyes at Jena. "This is all highly irregular, but if we can make room at the table for your pilot here, I'm sure we can make room for a half-breed." Her voice was pointed. "At least the Federation had the wherewithal to send a ship commanded by a token Bajoran."

"Now hold on a minute," replied Alenis, getting hot under the collar. "I'm not anyone's 'token' Bajoran. I was born on Bajor, under an incredibly brutal military occupation, and I worked my way up to being a starship captain. I'm sure Starfleet chose us for the assignment because we were the best ship for the job." Alenis glanced down at Jena for a moment. "And if you want to talk about D'jarras, you'll find that most real Bajorans see them as an outdated relic of the past and are glad that we're no longer limiting ourselves by an archaic caste system."

"Archaic caste system!?" exclaimed the Kai. "If you Federation types care so little about Bajoran traditions, then why are you even here? Are these negotiations anything more than a pretext to stake your claim on Gamia III and expand your little empire?"

"The Federation is not an imperialist power," retorted Alenis. There were times during her career when she had her doubts, and she had met more than one officer who, in private, bemoaned Starfleet's focus on science and humanitarian missions over military defense and expansion. Since the Dominion War, Borg attacks, deteriorating relationships with the Klingons, and the power vacuum left after the destruction of Romulus, there were many officers who advocated a different approach. Alenis tended to straddle the line; as a former tactical officer and as someone who understood firsthand that the quadrant was a dangerous place, she had some sympathy for the arguments for the importance of the defense needs of the Federation. But for her, her first allegiance was to the principles of the Federation; those of peaceful cooperation and the advancement of scientific knowledge. "The Federation has supported the Bajoran people in recovering from the occupation, and will continue to do so. We are only here to support the Bajoran people in this historic negotiation, and offer our support to the Gamian people if they so choose to reunite with Bajor. The Federation is composed of many diverse cultures, and we do not interfere with the natural development of pre-warp societies."

"Well then, if you are so tolerant of other cultures, why don't you recognize our traditions?" Kai Sellra's voice was indignant, though she may have been feigning it as a bargaining chip. "Instead, you come down here and dismiss them as archaic customs?"

"Fine!" shot back Alenis. Ugh, being a diplomat is even harder than I thought. She tapped her comm badge. "Alenis to Jita, I need you to check some genealogical records..."

Judith had followed the conversation so far. It reminded her why she wasn't a diplomat. She had no idea where they were talking about, or even what a D'jarra was. She was smart enough to know when not to speak, and the little remark earlier made it abundantly clear that her opinion wasn't wanted.

"Okay," dragged the young Ops officer over the live channel, clearly disconcerted. Superficially sensible, she wondered what circumstances warranted ancestry research. "What am I looking for, Captain?"

"D'jarras." Alenis turned and stepped away from the conversation so she could talk to Jita in private. "The ancient Bajoran caste system. Apparently the Gamians still use them. We need to check the genealogical records on these diplomats and hope that we can find someone on this delegation with a half-decent D'jarra. Can you tap into the Bajoran genealogical archives?"

“D’jarras? Seriously?” Jita groaned, nettled that the Gamians’ persistence with old religious tradition included its derisory caste system. A huff beat her mind for Alenis’ non-complicity in the development.

“I should be able to,” she evenly resumed of the original question, quick, ambient LCARS tones corroborating her answer. “But I can't guarantee we’ll be able to reference everyone. For all the progress made fixing the Cardassians' sabotage, there are still big gaps. Some people’s connecting or knowledgeable kin died during the Occupation or some other point before the census. Others are paranoid of D’jarras being revived and have refused to participate even though the council passed several statutes against discriminating through them.”

"Good. Let me know as soon as you find something. In the meantime," Alenis shook her head at the bickering between the diplomats, "I've got a situation down here."

"For which a measure of mitigation may be closer than you think, Captain Alenis," emerged another more proximate voice in the stead of Jita's reply, its owner adding the gentle placement of a hand to her shoulder to impart her presence...

Escape!
Brig, USS Portland
MD 5, 1420 hrs
Authors:  Lt. Jason Beauvoir and Lt. (JG) Arvel Darze


Arvel had been dreading this moment for a while. Regretting it, even. After hearing about what happened on Bajor, Jason was the last person that he wanted to see. But, as a Starfleet counselor, he had certain professional responsibilities that he could not ignore. Truth be told, if he were any less professional, he'd probably be coming down to deliver a beating to Jason for disrespecting Alenis.

As he entered the brig, he could see the prisoner look up and take notice of his arrival. After conversing with the guard for a minute, he approached the cell, carrying a stool. "Mr. Beauvoir, I assume you know who I am and why I am here, so I'll dispense with the pleasantries." Trying to keep things as formal as possible helped Arvel separate his personal feelings about this particular patient from his professional duties. After sitting down, he continued. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm jj...just peachy." Jason managed to say though the pain. "Where is Meru? I neeed her."

"That is out of the question," replied Arvel in no uncertain tone. He could sense that Jason was an emotional train wreck, with anger, lust, and pain bubbling over. "But I do know what you're going through, and I may be able to help you control your emotions and control the pain."

"No!" Jason screamed and began beating his already damaged hands against the forcefield. The pain and what was left his reason told him to stop, but it was overthrown by a flood of emotion. Anger and frustration flared and he bared his teeth at the man he now saw as an obstacle. Much like the forcefield he was keeping him from Meru.

Arvel stood by smugly as Jason beat against the force field. In a situation like this, sometimes it's best to let the patient tire himself out and wait until he's ready to talk. "Are you quite done?" asked Arvel at a lull in Jason's screaming.

"Why are you keeping Meru from me?" Jason pleaded.

"It's for her safety," replied Arvel. "And yours." He looked down at Jason, feeling sorry for the guy. Here he was, in pain, locked up like an animal, and losing control in a tiny eight by eight cell. And when it was all over, he'd have to deal with the shame and embarrassment of what he had done while in this state. "I'm going to perform some Vulcan neuropressure on you. It won't stop your cravings, but it will dull the pain. Do you understand?"

Jason looked at the Couselor and turned his head to the side. What was left of his conscious mind hit upon a plan of escape and in spite of the pain he smiled.

"All right," said Arvel. He turned to the guard, who readied his phaser with a heavy stun setting. "Computer, lower force field."

As the force field lowered, Jason watched both Arvel and the security guard, readying himself for the escape attempt.

"Just lie down on your bed," said Arvel as she advanced towards Jason, not breaking eye contact. The security guard on duty clutched his phaser, ready to pull it out of his holster at a moment's notice.

Jason turned to do as he was asked, but at the last moment he whirled around and grabbed Arvel by the shoulders and used him as a shield as the guard fired. The Science officer then dropped Arvel's unconscious body and ran at the guard.

Before crewman Baliev was able to fire again, the raging Vulcan was already on top of him.

Jason momentum sent him barreling into the poor crewman driving him to the deck with great force. The Science officer climbed off the unconscious man and took his phaser before fleeing the Brig.

Baliev looked around upon regaining consciousness. His head was throbbing with pain. He immediately tapped his comm badge. "Baliev to security. Lieutenant Beauvoir has escaped." He could see Arvel still hadn't regained consciousness. From his training, he recalled that Trills were particularly susceptible to phaser fire; even a stun setting could seriously injure or kill the symbiont. "...and we have a medical emergency; beam Dr. Darze to sickbay immediately!"