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Tinkering (Part Two)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.07

The starship was being hailed. The senior cadet in the command chair
responded, and a familiar, static-filled voice blared out of the bridge
speakers.
"This is the Kobayashi Maru, 18 days out of Starbase 3...we have struck a
gravitic mine...Systems failing...Can you assist us?"
"It's a third-class neutronic fuel carrier, Captain," replied the operations
officer, glancing up from her console. "Crew of 81 with 300 passengers
aboard."
"Damn," the senior cadet, Narto, grumbled. "Helm, alter course to
intercept."
"Sir, that course will take us into the Romulan Neutral Zone," the
holographic Sorik said suddenly. "May I remind you that we will be in direct
violation of treaty?"
"I am aware of that, Commander," Narto replied. "Helm, adjust course and
engage."
Within the control booth, Follen turned to await the real Sorik's
reaction...which, of course, did not come. The Vulcan simply returned the
stare.
"Well?" Follen asked.
"Well, what?"
"What do you think?" Follen asked, grinning. "Not too bad, eh?"
"I do not believe I have observed enough to come to that conclusion," Sorik
replied. "But I will concede that the program is more than adequate thus
far."
That was a bigger compliment than Follen had actually expected. The two men
continued to watch as the cadets and holographic commander maneuvered their
starship into the Neutral Zone. Suddenly, the real Sorik's combadge chirped.
"Sirna to Commander Sorik," came the voice.
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," Sorik said.
"Sir, you wanted to be informed if any Code Forty-Threes came up," Sirna
said. "Well, sir, one just came up."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," Sorik replied. "I am on my way."
"Code Forty-three?" Follen asked. "Sounds serious. What is it?"
"For your clarification, various security situations and matters have been
designated into codes to minimize confusion and maximize accurate responses,"
Sorik explained. "There were forty-two of these codes when I assumed command
of Internal Affairs. After a recent altercation with an arriving, Klingon
cadet, I have added a new code to that list -- Code Forty-three."
"And that code is?" Follen insisted.
"Code Forty-three is the introduction of another Klingon cadet into the
campus community," Sorik informed him.
"What?" Follen barked, almost in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"To ask that question of me, I would have to respond with, are you serious?"
"No offense, sir, but isn't that discrimination of some kind?" Follen
wondered.
"The altercation that I spoke of was the direct result of a misunderstanding
of cultures and protocols," Sorik explained. "A misunderstanding that could
have been prevented if the proper precautionary measures had been taken to
introduce the representative of a foreign culture into this community."
"I see..." Follen muttered.
"With the implementation of Code Forty-three, I will have to enable those
precautionary measures and thus prevent any future misunderstandings and
altercations," Sorik stated. "However, the system is still a work in
progress and I expect to further structure it as it progresses."
"Of course," Follen sighed. "I know what it's like to tinker."
Sorik nodded, choosing not to engage the professor further about the subject
or about tinkering. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I will observe the completion
of your program at another time," Sorik said, stepping around the man for the
door.
"Wait, you'll miss your death scene," Follen said, pointing to the
viewscreen. "I programed an ODN manifold to explode underneath you."
Sorik glanced back at him for a moment. "Another time, perhaps."
With that, the Vulcan turned and made his way out into the corridor.
"Damn," Follen muttered. The professor realized he would have to wait a
little longer before he knew if the program would be accepted or not. But,
then again, he had a little more time to tinker with it.

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a catain coming of age
by ataris
Ataris knelt in the learning hut .dress in purple slik type gia. On the
planet tryan waiting of council to come to order. day of her birth. It was
also a day challenge as she was reaching the age. Where She could decide for
her self.
Look about learning hutt with her blue eyes. many times she had sat here .
being thuaght by elder . there where maps and books. a long wall of large
hutt . small plat forum . where teacher and council sat . large soft dark
pine green pillows . where children sat durring there lesson .
seven large chair on plat fourm for council . to sit there now. deep cherry
wood color, each chair had deep purple pilliow on it .
Make her own decisions take charge of her own life. Before celebrations could
take palace. she had to overcome several challenge that where line up for
her.
First one was challenge of body. It was also challenge of warrior ship.
Second would be challenge of the mind. The last challenge was to be
spiritual right. The spiritual challenge was going to be hardest . To
succeed at,it was most impotant one in her eyes.
it was impotant for her suceed in these challenge. for one thing the right
of passage . would restore some balance to her and her mother. it would
also bring a feeling to of peace . to those of spiritual world. namely her
farther, wish miss very much .

tbc

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STARFLEET ACADEMY

Personal Log StarDate 60003.08
'Hailing Frequencies Closed'
Cadet Hatch Lars Teg
Science Trainee

Hatch quietly reviewed the shuttle vids of his teams performance at the last
'Starfleet Skills I' class. Frowning as he saw himself look around on the
console for a second before he activated the system he was looking for.
Picking up his data padd, he marked down; 'Memorize ALL shuttle cockpit
console
controls by next shuttle simulator test.' Turning back to the vid, he
continued watching his performance. After six times through the vid;
carefully examining his actions, Hatch looked down at the data padd list he
created. Frowning again, he knew he needed to spend more time in the
simulator this weekend so he could eliminate a few of his concerns listed on
the padd. Hatch new these had to be addressed quickly as it was only going
to get more
difficult each day.
Taking a sip of some interesting human juice he had found quite tasty, he
walked over to his bed and sat down. Quickly drinking the last little bit of
Tomato-Carrot juice, Hatch laid down on his bed. Starring up to the ceiling,
thoughts of what life as a Starfleet officer would be like. He had always
been taught to visualize a goal to best achieve it. The past five weeks of
intensive study and mission simulations started painting the picture. As
time went on and on, that picture would change and rearrange until it would
finally be complete. But now all Hatch could picture was himself, standing
in a Science officers uniform on a blank gray canvas. Reaching over to his
night stand, he grabbed a small audio recorder. Pushing down the record
button, he spoke...

Well, the latest simulation went fairly well for my team. We all completed
our objectives, but not in the most Starfleet of ways. Team one completed
the retrieval of the injured researcher first and headed back for base.
After we snagged the floating sample containers, we hailed the base for
permission to assist team three. The simulation ended before our
shuttle and team three's shuttle exited the planet, but we were well enough
on our way to count as having completed the mission. Of our crew's actions,
I feel we did pretty well for not having much experience. And I cannot
attempt to judge any other team's actions at this point. To do so now would
be foolish as I have little idea what is the exact Starfleet regulations and
common practices.
I do however know of one thing that needs a little work on by all. That is
better communications. This is part of my background in politics come to the
forefront; with my father being an important government official.
Communications amongst the individual crews and between the crews themselves
need much work. I am sure the simulation could have ended much quicker and
with better results if we had all followed procedures and communicated with
the
base and each other more. When on such a split mission with multiple teams,
coordination amongst all is vital to overall success. I shall bring that up
at the next small group study session. Hopefully it was just first time
nerves that caused this and not some inherent lack of openness with others.

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Snaking Away From Home
Part Four
By Cadet Hatch Lars Teg

Picking up his bags again, Lars walked down the hall towards the waiting
shuttle that would take him to his transport to the Academy. He wondered how
he would get along with all the different people from different races when he
heard a familiar voice behind him.....

"Thinking of snaking out of here without saying good-bye to your father?"
Lars smiled as his father walked up to him from the main audience chamber.
Getting a glimpse into the room as the door slowly closed, Lars saw all of
the chamber members there. The chamber members faces showed they eagerly
awaited the governors return. He knew there must be an important meeting
going on. Frowning a little as his father gave him a big hug, Lars wished
they both had more time to say good-bye. Pulling back from the hug, Tar'il
noticed a little disappointment in his sons face.
"What's wrong Lars? Having some second thoughts about going to the
Starfleet Academy?"
"No father, I know I want to go to the Academy. I feel it is the right
place for me to continue to learn and grow. But it's..... well, I wish it
wasn't so far away. And that I didn't have to go right now. There are so
many things here I wish to do; so many people I want to thank and say
good-bye to."
"There will be time later to do that son. You have a summer break were we
could get you back home for a few weeks. Then you can complete what you feel
you have left undone. The shuttle to Earth and the Academy will not wait for
you to meander about here. We will be here for you when you return. That I
promise."
Lars looked up to his father and smiled. He knew his father was a man of
his word. If he said it, you could believe it. The 'iron' in his words and
his being laid credit to this. Turning his head to some noise back in the
audience chamber, Lars picked up his bags and turned towards the large
vestibule to the shuttle pad.
"Good-bye Father, I shall keep in touch." With that he started walking
towards the awaiting shuttle. Lars was surprised to find his father walking
beside him.
"Don't you have a meeting to be at?"
"Blah. It can wait. It is not every day you send a son to Starfleet
Academy. I shall accompany you on the shuttle trip to the Sydney. Besides,
I need to speak to the Captain of that ship as to why he hasn't sent his
governor a message lately."
Lars chuckled a little. "Yea, elder brother Riz'nin has been pretty bad
about sending messages home since he became Captain of that old Starfleet
ship the Navy got."
The two laughed a little as they traded stories on their way to the shuttle.

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part One)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.15

Commander Sorik entered the Locker Room Six on the third floor of Kirk Hall
and made his way toward his personal locker at the end of the second row. It
was a faculty room where the various instructors could store their uniforms,
gear and other personal items while utilizing the various simulators and
holosuites in the building.
The locker room was seemingly empty, but Sorik's acute Vulcan hearing
detected the sound of a sonic shower in use nearby. Paying it no attention,
Sorik opened his locker and began storing his environmental suit away.
The spacewalk simulation had gone exceptionally well, and his "team" of
cadets had displayed impressive focus and capability despite the unfamiliar
and difficult environment of space.
"Computer, please transfer a copy of all the recorded visual and sensory
logs of the Starfleet Skills program, Alpha Three One One, to the terminal in
my office," Sorik spoke into the air. "Authorization, Sorik Sigma Tau Delta."
The computer chirped. "Transfer complete."
Sorik subconsciously nodded, finding the speed of the computer acceptable,
and proceeded to change into a fresh duty uniform. Once he was dressed, he
closed the locker and turned to leave.
There was a figure standing several meters away, watching him.
Sorik paused, somewhat surprised to find someone there for he had strangely
not been aware of the person's presence. "May I help you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," a male voice responded. "Are you Commander Sorik?"
"I am," Sorik replied. "Who might you be?"
"Lars Kemper," the man replied. "Federation Press Service."
"This is a secured facility," Sorik stated. "I do not recall you being
granted access."
"I grant my own access," Kemper said, seeming to smile in slow motion.
Sorik raised an eyebrow, finding the man's words and actions extremely
curious. Kemper was rather tall and built for a Human, with short,
military-like blond hair. There was an obvious arrogance about the man,
Sorik noted, but there was something else. The Vulcan continued to study the
man, who seemed to strut toward him.
"I tried to get a meeting with you through your office, but they said you
were busy for the rest of the week," Kemper continued, removing something
similar to a PADD from his jacket. "I didn't want to wait a week."
"Wait a week for what?" Sorik asked.
"To interview you," Kemper said, as if it should have been obvious.
"Interview me for what?"
"We're doing monthly spotlights on outstanding Starfleet officers," Kemper
said, making notes on his PADD. "You've had an interesting career, and I
would like to find out more about it."
"I fail to see how or why my career would be of any interest to your
readers," Sorik stated. "I must now have you escorted from the campus."
Tapping his combadge, "Sorik to Campus Security. Please report to Kirk Hall,
Third Floor, Locker Room Six."
"Wait, wait, wait," Kemper said, holding up his hand and smiling. "Not so
fast, big guy. What about my interview? I need a good story, and you're
exactly the kind of guy our circulation wants to read about."
"As you have apparently been told by my office, my schedule is booked,"
Sorik said, walking toward the man and forcing him back toward the door.
"Once you are off Academy grounds, you may proceed to try and make an
appointment for another time through the appropriate channels."
"Okay, okay, I'm going," Kemper said. "And I will get my interview, no
matter what."
"I am sure you will," Sorik stated dryly.
Kemper backed into the corridor as the door parted, where two security
officers were waiting for him. As they escorted him toward the corridor,
Kemper glanced back over his shoulder and winked at Sorik.
The Vulcan returned an unaffected stare. However, Sorik's mind was busy
contemplating the recent encounter. There was something suspicious about
Kemper, his actions and his story, and Sorik realized there was only one way
to get to the bottom of it -- he would meet with the man and grant him the
interview...only Sorik intended to interview him...

- TBC -

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part Two)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.22

There was something suspicious about Kemper, his actions and his story, and
Sorik realized there was only one way to get to the bottom of it -- he would
meet with the man and grant him the interview...only Sorik intended to
interview him...
Sorik materialized on the London sidewalk in a soft shimmer of light.
Glancing around, the Vulcan attempted to familiarize himself with his
surroundings to determine the correct course he should pursue. His eyes
finally saw the sign on the building across the street, and Sorik made his
way toward it.
As he descended the steps down to the basement pub, Sorik could hear the
music and voices emanating from inside. Opening the door, the aroma of ale
and smoke rushed out at him. Kemper had described the establishment as
having "character," but Sorik began to believe that description was an
understatement.
The decor was that of a 19th century bar, with antique tables, stools and
other decorations scattered about the dimly lit room. Considering that it
was approximately 1100 hours, the pub was surprisingly full with locals.
None of them paid attention to the Vulcan, except for the bartender.
"May I help you?" the burly man asked, his mustache appearing as if it was
about to flap itself off his lip as he spoke.
"I am looking for Lars Kemper," Sorik replied.
The bartender stared blankly at Sorik for a moment, but then his eyes lit
up. "Ah, the journalist! He's in the back there. He's waiting on ya', I
believe."
Sorik nodded and made his way to the back of the room where he found a
narrow corridor. Following it, the corridor led to a tiny room with a pool
table. Two men were involved in a game--one was a tall Bolian, the other was
Kemper.
"Commander! You made it!" Kemper said, turning. "I thought I would have to
knock on the Academy's gates for at least a month or two before you honored
me with a meeting!"
"I was concerned you would do just that," Sorik stated, "so I decided to
meet with you to alleviate you of such actions."
Kemper grinned. "And I thought Vulcans didn't have a sense of humor."
Sorik raised his eyebrow. "I assure you, we do not."
"As you say," Kemper said with a nod. He tapped the Bolian in the arm,
dismissing the man from the game. Kemper then beckoned for Sorik to sit at a
nearby table.
"May I ask why you were insistent on meeting here?" Sorik asked, taking a
seat. "I am granting you the interview. Would it not be proper journalistic
etiquette to come to me in San Francisco?"
"Well, true," Kemper said, sitting across from him. "But you're offer
caught me by surprise, and I was unable to get away from my current
assignment here in London. Besides, I'm happy to avoid dealing with your
security force again. They were quite rude to me the last time I was on
campus."
"If you perceived their actions as rude, it was because you had trespassed
on Academy property," Sorik pointed out.
"As you say," Kemper said with a grin. He placed a satchel on the table and
removed his PADD to begin taking notes.
As Kemper prepared himself, Sorik noted, without turning around, that the
Bolian was still in the small room with them. Sorik could hear the man
standing near the pool table, apparently rolling a cue stick back and forth
across it.
"Well, let's begin, shall we?" Kemper said, leaning back in his chair.

- TBC -

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part Three)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.22

As Kemper prepared himself, Sorik noted, without turning around, that the
Bolian was still in the small room with them. Sorik could hear the man
standing near the pool table, apparently rolling a cue stick back and forth
across it.
"Well, let's begin, shall we?" Kemper said, leaning back in his chair.
"Tell me, how did you become interested in Starfleet?"
Sorik collected his thoughts for a moment and then explained of his decision
to enter Starfleet. As the interview continued, he kept all of his answers
short and to the point, no matter how often Kemper tried to coax more out of
him. After a short time had passed, Sorik, who had been carefully analyzing
all of Kemper's actions and questions, began to see a pattern to the man's
behavior.
"Let's go back again to the time you spent at Starbase 86," Kemper said,
making notes. "My research says you were assigned to a mission aboard the
USS Castlefinder under Captain Mascia. Tell me more about that."
"No, I will not," Sorik stated.
"Wha?" Kemper blurted. "Why not, Commander?"
"Two reasons," Sorik replied. "First, the particulars of that mission are
classified by Starfleet Command. Second, despite your attempts to belay
suspicion, you are deliberately attempting to get information regarding my
posting at Starbase 86. Do you have a hidden agenda?"
"Commander?" Kemper huffed. "I am simply trying to establish and confirm
all the facts so I can write an accurate and entertaining story. I am a
journalist, after all."
"Perhaps, but you are not the journalist you claim to be," Sorik said. "I
did some research of my own before arriving here. I checked with the
Federation Press Service, and there is no one by the name of Lars Kemper
currently employed with that organization. In fact, the only Lars Kemper
ever on record with the Service has been dead for three years. I believe you
were aware of the real Kemper's death, and you assumed his identity to
mislead me
into giving you information. Studying your recent actions and line of
questions, I can surmise that you are interested in my posting at Starbase
86. Now I would like to know why."
Kemper's face soured. His normal aura of cockiness was replaced with a
hateful glare. "Damn Vulcans," he grumbled. "Always so damned logical about
everything."
The Bolian picked up his cue stick and slowly began to make his way around
the table toward Sorik and Kemper. Sorik glanced at him momentarily before
returning his eyes to Kemper.
"You will cooperate with me," Sorik said matter-of-factly.
"Oh?" Kemper asked, rising. "Says who?"
Two Starfleet security officers suddenly appeared in the corridor. Kemper
realized they were there and glared down at Sorik, who seemed unaffected by
the man's threatening stare. Sorik watched Kemper's eyes drop to the
combadge on his uniform.
"You're wearing a wire," Kemper grumbled, partly angered and partly
impressed. He immediately backed away from the table, knocking over his
chair.
"Apprehend them," Sorik ordered, rising from his own chair.
The two security officers bolted forward and the Bolian turned on them. He
swung his cue stick, striking one of the officers across the head. The other
officer tackled the man and they toppled over.
Approaching Kemper, Sorik drew a Type-1 phaser from his pocket. Before he
could take aim, Kemper tapped at his wrist. The man was suddenly engulfed in
a transporter beam, and he vanished from the room.
"Commander Sorik to Starfleet Headquarters," Sorik said, tapping his
combadge. "One suspect has just beamed out of this location. Can you trace
the signal?"
"Negative, Commander," the female voice replied. "There's some kind of
interference emanating from that room. It's disrupting our sensors."
Sorik glanced about, not noticing anything out of the ordinary until his
eyes fell upon Kemper's satchel. Approaching, Sorik could clearly see a
small device blinking from within the bag. Carefully reaching inside, Sorik
removed the object which seemed to be generating the distortion. Sorik
deactivated the device and turned toward the others.
The two security officers, both somewhat disheveled, were standing over the
unconscious Bolian.
"Starfleet HQ to Commander Sorik," came the female voice over the combadge.
"The interference is gone, but we are still unable to trace the transporter
signal."
"Acknowledged," Sorik replied, still studying the device in his hands. He
had never seen anything like it, yet it strangely resembled Federation
technology.
Turning, the Vulcan glanced down at the Bolian. Sorik's initial suspicions
about Kemper were seemingly correct, but he realized now that there was much
more going on than he had originally anticipated. Apparently someone was
interested in a small part of Sorik's past, but the reasons why were still
unclear. Sorik realized he would have to reexamine his memories of that
particular time, for perhaps there was something there that he was missing.
But for now he had no answers, only questions. Kemper may have gotten away
for now, but there were still other people to turn to for those answers. One
was the Bolian accomplice...the other was now a Starfleet admiral...

- TBC -

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part Four)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.22

But for now he had no answers, only questions. Kemper may have gotten away
for now, but there were still other people to turn to for those answers. One
was the Bolian accomplice...the other was now a Starfleet admiral...
Sorik sat silently, his mind carefully reconstructing the recent events.
The more he considered the various questions and possibilities, the more
questions and doubts he seemed to discover.
"Commander," the lieutenant said from across the office, "Admiral Mascia can
see you now."
Sorik nodded and rose, making his way through the double doors across from
him. He entered the admiral's office to find the man reading a PADD at his
desk across the spacious room.
"Sorik!" Mascia exclaimed with a smile. Rising from his chair, he extended
his hand to the Vulcan. "Good to see you again! It's been years!"
"Thirty-three years, to be exact, Admiral," Sorik stated, shaking the
admiral's hand. "I was quite surprised to learn you were still serving in
Starfleet."
"Thought I'd be dead by now?" Mascia chuckled, beckoning for Sorik to take a
seat.
"That possibility would not be impractical," Sorik said, sitting. "But I
was only referring to well-known desire to retire."
"Well, things change," Mascia said, leaning back in his chair. "I mean,
look at this view they gave me. Overseeing Colonization Operations is an
easy thing to do from this office."
Sorik noted a slight, almost subconscious distortion on the admiral's face;
it would have been oblivious to anyone else, but Sorik read it as a clear
indication that Mascia was not particularly as excited about his current
posting as he claimed. The man wasn't lying so much as he was attempting to
convince himself of something he did not truly believe. Sorik passed it off
as a typical Human emotion.
Sorik then glanced out the window behind Mascia; from that office in
Building C, one could clearly see the ancient Golden Gate Bridge and the
Academy grounds to the west. Sorik returned his attention to the admiral,
who had aged remarkably well for a man in his early 100s.
"So, I'm guessing this isn't a social call," Mascia said, leaning forward
and steepling his hands on the desktop. "I just read the report from
Starfleet Security. So far this Bolian thug who attacked you has yet to
talk."
"That is not surprising," Sorik stated. "It is logical to assume that the
Bolian 'thug' is nothing more than a hired hand, and would probably be able
to reveal very little about the man claiming to be Lars Kemper."
"So what do you think this Kemper fellow is up to? Is he a spy? And if so,
who do you think he's working for?" Mascia asked.
"I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on that, sir," Sorik
stated.
"Me?" Mascia asked, somewhat surprised. "Why me?"
"The man claiming to be Kemper repeatedly asked me about my posting at
Starbase 86, and at times specifically about you, the Castlefinder, and the
mission to Kiliman IV."
"The Kiliman mission has been classified for 30 years," Mascia said.
"Nobody should know about that."
"Apparently somebody does, sir," Sorik noted.
"Why would a spy be interested in that mission?" Mascia asked, but not
directly to Sorik. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms as Sorik
offered his opinion...

- TBC -

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part Five)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.22

"Why would a spy be interested in that mission?" Mascia asked, but not
directly to Sorik. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms as Sorik
offered his opinion...
"There are several possibilities that I could think of, Admiral," Sorik
said. "If Kemper was working for an agency outside the Federation, they
might believe exposing the Kiliman mission would greatly damage Starfleet's
credibility and cause internal conflicts within the Federation. Such a
conflict would make us susceptible to outside influence, or attack."
Mascia stared at Sorik in shock, but the Vulcan continued.
"However, Kemper may also have more personal reasons for his interest in
that mission," Sorik explained. "If he was somehow related to the events
that transpired on Kiliman IV, then it would be conceivable that he would
with to seek revenge for-"
"Revenge?" Mascia blurted, leaning forward, apparently unable to take
Sorik's reasoning any more. "Starfleet Command vindicated us of those
events, if you recall, Commander. We did nothing wrong there that could or
would necessitate unfavorable exposure or vengeance against us."
Sorik raised an eyebrow, surprised by the admiral's remarks. "Be that as it
may, sir, but Starfleet Command did find it necessary to classify the details
of that mission, as well as the following tribunal proceedings," the Vulcan
said calmly. "To an outside party, that kind of secrecy might arouse
suspicion. And to someone directly affected by those events, it may be
motive to seek revenge in a number of ways, from exposing what actually
happened
to learning who is actually responsible for-"
"Those Kiliman rebels were responsible!" Mascia snapped. "That's who Kemper
should be seeking revenge against."
"If Kemper is, in fact, seeking revenge" Sorik pointed out, "he would not
know who to seek it against if he did not know who was responsible. He would
not know because the details of the mission are classified."
"Damn it, Sorik," Mascia grumbled, standing and heading over to the
replicator. "This is getting on my nerves...Whiskey!...You'd better explain
why you think I might have some insight into all of this."
As the admiral returned to his chair with the drink, Sorik carefully
considered his words. "Considering the imposed secrecy surrounding the
entire mission, its outcome and the tribunal, there is the possibility that
there are certain details that I am unaware of," Sorik explained. "You may
be in possession of certain facts that are unknown to me."
"You know as much as I do," Mascia said, downing the alcohol. "We were not
to blame. There's no conspiracy here."
Sorik considered the admiral's opinion for a moment. "It would seem that
someone is attempting to find that out for themselves, sir."
Mascia stared at Sorik for a moment, then stood up. "Okay, I'll tell you
what, Sorik...I'll look into it. I'll see if I can pull some strings and get
my hands on files that technically don't exist. You go back to the Academy
and forget about this for the time being, but keep your eyes and ears open.
If you hear anything, you come to me. Understood?"
Sorik made to protest but Mascia held his hand up.
"That's an order, Commander," the admiral said, beckoning toward the door.
Sorik nodded and made his way toward the outer room. "Understood, Admiral."
"Damn it, I'm getting too old for this stuff," Mascia sighed, walking beside
Sorik. "I'll contact you as soon as I hear something. In the meantime, stay
out of it."
"As you wish," Sorik said, stepping outside.
He turned to see the admiral shutting the double doors behind him. Nodding,
Sorik turned and made his way out to the corridor. He had hoped the admiral
would alleviate some of his suspicions, but now Sorik was all the more
curious. There was something not right about any of this...and he had to
find out what was going on...

- TBC -

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STARFLEET ACADEMY

Personal Log StarDate 60003.22
'Hatch Teg's Day Off'
Cadet Hatch Lars Teg
Science Trainee

"You don't look very well Hatch. What have you been doing? Been out all
weekend partying down?"

A very puffy faced Hatch looked over to Kan'la, one of the few other
Takarans at the Academy. She was a year ahead of Hatch and quite a smart
engineering trainee; as all the honors she won had proven. On top of that,
she was very attractive and Hatch though it wouldn't be much longer before he
'made a move.' But not today. Something unexpected had happened
to Hatch a couple days ago and now it was rearing its ugly head. Taking a
moment to breath through his mouth a bit, a congested Hatch replied.

"I'm really ill. Some kind of virus or bacteria I haven't been exposed to
hit me hard last night. I went to the student medical health center early
this morning to get some help. One of the worst four hours I've ever spent.
Nothing like having a bunch of senior medical trainees' poking around on you
and blurting out fifty different causes and how I could have gotten it, but
not getting directly to a
remedy."

Hatch stopped for a moment to cough a bit and wait for the ringing in his
ears to quit. Holding his hand up in a 'wait' manner, he walked over to the
restroom and blew his nose a few times. After washing up, he walked back to
his room where Kan'la was still waiting.

"Sorry about that. But I bet I would have waited much longer if I didn't
fake heart failure and get a real doctor over there to assist. From what
they said, they think it is some new and rare bacterial strain brought in
from one of the cadets one of the newly accepted Federation races. They
think it only affects a small number of races so it hasn't been
vaccinated against. Medical is working on making one of us Takarans and you
should get contacted when it comes in. The doctor thought it needed a
secondary host before it became contagious to us so you shouldn't get ill
from being near me."

Kan'la smiled. "Well, I hope you get better soon. You cannot miss to many
classes here and expect to graduate on time. I will stop by later with some
Gela egg soup for you."

"Thanks, you are such a sweetie." Hatch replied.

"Oh I know I am. You just finally figured it out." She fired back with a
grin.

~Maybe I don't have to make a move afterall.~ Hatch thought to himself as he
watched her walk on out.

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Snaking Away From Home
Part Five
By Cadet Hatch Lars Teg

"Don't you have a meeting to be at?"
"Blah. It can wait. It is not every day you send a son to Starfleet
Academy. I shall accompany you on the shuttle trip to the Sydney. Besides,
I need to speak to the Captain of that ship as to why he hasn't sent his
governor a message lately."
Lars chuckled a little. "Yea, elder brother Riz'nin has been pretty bad
about sending messages home since he became Captain of that old Starfleet
ship the Navy got."
The two laughed a little as they traded stories on their way to the shuttle.

Hatch smiled slightly as he waved good-bye to his father from the docking
umbilical. He was so glad he got to spend those last few hours with his
father before he left. Running half a planet kept his father busy and
'quality time' was a rare thing. This time was even more important as both
knew that a large change was going to occur for both of them. Hatch knew the
distance and demanding schedule of the Academy
would keep him away from his home planet and he knew his father could not
leave it to visit him on Earth. And that made this tough. Despite entering
Star Fleet and becoming a science officer being the only thing he had wanted
to do, the disconnection to his people and his family almost overwhelmed it.
With one last wave to his smiling father, Hatch walked into the Sydney
vessel. Stepping up to the Takaran Operations officer, Hatch informed him
that he was reporting for transfer. The officer started to make a grand bow
to Hatch. With a small frown, he waved the Takaran off.
"Oh please, you don't have to do that to me. I'm not your superior officer
and that whole caste society etiquette.... Well, save that for the old
timers. Some traditions should not have continued when we entered the 'warp
community', and that is definitely one of them. It only acts to divide our
people when we now face so many other races who are going to
do the same thing to us."
The officer nodded in agreement to Hatch. Each generation born after the
arrival of the Federation had worked to end some of the more social
restraints. Only through their influence, and the 'golden carrot' the
Federation dangled in front of them, had the elder generations start to
change. Motioning Hatch to the front of the ship, the two walked towards the
bridge. Upon hearing the bridge he heard another familiar voice.
"Okay, send our departure orders and clearance to orbit control and tell
them the Cobra is ready to get on its way."
As a grinning Hatch walked onto the bridge and looked around, the voice he
was hearing came straight to his left.
"Well, well, well.... If it isn't our VIP, Admiral StarFleet himself! Glad
to have you on board sir." With that the large Takaran speaking to him
snapped up into a quick salute. He could hear the rest of the bridge crew
chuckle amongst themselves. Hoping he was not
turning red, Hatch quipped back.
"At Ease Captain Riz'nin. We don't want you to pull a muscle now do we;
what with the nice long escort you must provide me and the other Starfleet
Admirals on board here."
With that the large Takaran chuckled a little and slapped Hatch hard on the
back.
"I see you still think you can quip with the big boys. Well, we have plenty
of time to change that and get you tasks on this ship fitting for an Admiral
and his staff."
Hatch rolled his eyes as he knew this twenty day trip would turn out to be
quite and experience.

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Shields Down, Hailing Frequencies Open
Cmdre Trinity da Vinci



TRINITY da VINCI OPENED UP THE ENGINES A BIT, allowing the convertible
hovercar to zoom along the tight mountain road at a speed that might consider
appalling. Her grip on the steering wheel was loose and comfortable, manual
controls engaged, and she gave a long whoop of ecstasy in the late-morning
sunshine as
the little speedster took the curves up the mountain easily.
One of the great things about her job, she’d decided early, was not only its
location, but the freedom it allowed her. If she was stuck on some ship
somewhere, she’d be sitting in a holodeck right now, enjoying, more or less,
this same sensation – but somehow, in a holodeck, it was never quite the
same. A ‘deck couldn’t replicate the same intricacy of smells and sounds and
sights. Oh sure, it came close, close enough to suit, anyway. But
if you compared two and a half days away from worries and responsibilities on
campus by a whirl through beautiful Napa and Sonoma valleys, to a couple
hours on a ‘deck where you knew you’d be back to your quarters soon… oh no,
nothing could compare.
She almost missed the turnoff, marked by only a small sign and a single red
balloon, but with a quick step on the brakes and an even quicker turn of the
wheel, she made the turn onto the gravel road. Dust swirled up behind her
passing vehicle as she climbed higher on the mountain, passing three wide
guard rail-less turns, and into the woods again. The nice thing about
hovercars was that if you plunged off the side of a mountain, you’d be okay;
a
hovercraft was designed to cling to some pretty steep inclines. Still, she
wasn’t in favor of the direct route back down to St. Helena.
Slowing, she passed a few small houses, and finally came to a big barn that
was built into the hillside. There was a view over the vineyards northeastern
towards the mountains around Calistoga; the fields were currently blanketed a
brilliant yellow by the blooming mustard plants. This little winery nestled
up in the hills had cats and dogs wandering around the grounds, and one of
the finest merlots in the valley. It was worth the drive up into the
hidden roads above Napa.
Later that afternoon, she sat in one of the winery parking lots, leaning her
head back and enjoying the heady sunshine. She was sunburned and startling to
freckle across her nose; she'd sampled a variety of new wines up and down the
valley (enough to taste, not to drink and drive!). Tucking her sunglasses
back on her head, she reached for her phone. While she enjoyed travelling
alone, sometimes she wanted to share. Except who could she manage to
call without sounding like she was rubbing their nose in it? She just felt so
great, so happy, so relaxed. Finally she tossed her phone back in its
holster, and turned the hovercraft on. She would be spending the evening at
her favorite spa up in Calistoga, and dinner at the Culinary Institute, or
maybe Brannan's Grill, which she'd enjoyed last visit. Tomorrow she'd go
hiking. Or maybe not.
As she tooled the hovercar back towards the main road, she smiled to
herself. It was amazing what a little weekend away could do for one's soul --
shields down, hailing frequencies open.

Commodore Trinity Elana da Vinci
Dean of Studies, Starfleet Academy
(USF Sierra)

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The Pulpit
Dr. Mason Mannix

From the wing, Mason Mannix watched the lecture hall fill with
first year students. He smiled to himself, as he loaded the notes of his
opening lecture into the computer for use at the podium. A highly respected
professor of Temporal Physics, and Chair of the Physics Department of
Starfleet Academy, Mannix could have easily delegated this freshman level
class to a subordinate or even to one of his cadre of grad
students.
But, at Starfleet Academy, no one but Dr. Mason Mannix would ever
teach freshman Temporal Physics until the man was dead. He truly loved his
discipline and loved it as much as he loved teaching it. Or, was preaching a
better term? His past students would most likely say so. Mannix made sure
that when a student completed his course, he didn't just know physics, he
believed it.
Mason was at the top of his profession and he knew it. Seven
Cochrane medals, four Laskers, and two Nobel Prizes attested to his research
and his leadership into the complex realm of Temporal Physics and even Time
Travel. However, the professor measured his success by the number and
quality of the students who passed through his lecture hall and Temporal
Physics 101.
As the lecture hall filled, and the chattering of the students came
to a crescendo, he strolled out to the podium and stood there until the hall
became quiet. He smiled, as Shere Kahn the tiger would smile, and made eye
contact with each student. "Welcome to Temporal Physics 101. I don't know
your names yet, but trust me, . . . I will before this term expires."
Once again he smiled and made eye contact with each student. "I
trust that all of you have prepared for today's class, so we shall get right
down to it. Can someone please tell me what Physics is about?"
Several hands raised in the air. Mason knew from experience that
those hands most likely belonged to students who were eager to "get in good"
with the Prof as early as possible. Well, the Prof would have none of that.
Mannix made sure that knowledge, intellect, and hard work won his coveted
A's, not politics or favoritism. This first question was designed to
eliminate all thoughts of grandeur from those students' minds.
Mannix broadened his Shere Kahn smile and chose the hand of the
student who seemed most eager. He glanced quickly at his seating chart.
"Mr. Thomas, is it? Please tell us all what Physics is about. Oh . . . and
please stand."
The lad complied. "Physics is the study of matter and forces and
how they work at the most basic level." The smile on the professor's face
gave the lad great satisfaction as he sat back down.
Mason continued to smile at Thomas. The trap had just been sprung.
Fire seemed to build up in Mannix's steel gray eyes as his fist raised in the
air and crashed onto the pulpit. "I see you did your assignment like a good
lad, Mr. Thomas."
As the hapless Thomas continued to beam with self assured pride,
the Professor's fist raised in the air and with startling speed, crashed onto
the podium. The entire hall seemed to jump as one. The Professor turned
into a preacher and thundered from what was now his pulpit. His arm shot out
as his finger pointed directly at the now cowering Thomas. "BUT YOU MISSED
THE ENTIRE POINT!"
Mason's voice thundered on, reverberating off the acoustically
perfect walls and rattling the eardrums of his students. "Physics is not
about 'how things work! You'll find that out in Engineering class! Physics
is much more than simple mechanics! For the love of Science man, I am a
Physicist! I AM NOT a mechanic!"
The other students were frozen. They could only watch as Mannix
carved up poor Thomas as so much cattle fodder. They listened as the thunder
kept rolled on.
Even as a genuine smile came to his face, Mannix's eyes bored right
through the kid. "Physics is about possibilities! " He turned to the whole
class. "Don't any of you ever forget it!"
And so began another semester from the pulpit.

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part Six)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60003.22

He turned to see the admiral shutting the double doors behind him. Nodding,
Sorik turned and made his way out to the corridor. He had hoped the admiral
would alleviate some of his suspicions, but now Sorik was all the more
curious. There was something not right about any of this...and he had to
find out what was going on...
Sorik returned to the Administrative Building at Starfleet Academy, riding
the turbolift to the floor with the Internal Affairs Division on it. He
spoke briefly with the office manager, getting updated on the events while he
was gone, and then proceeded into his office.
Sitting at his desk, Sorik found that his recent encounters with the phony
Lars Kemper and Admiral Mascia were still weighing heavy in his thoughts. He
did not have time to think about such matters at the moment, however, for he
felt that had neglected his campus duties for long enough.
Reading through the stack of reports on his desk, the Vulcan came across
another update from the Utopia Planitia Shipyards, detailing their latest
developments and starship innovations. Normally, Sorik would have been
greatly interested in the report, but seeing it registered something in his
mind. He quickly skipped to the end of the report where he knew the contact
information would be.
Like the last time, he found a particular name listed there. The name
belonged to someone Sorik had vowed he would not have any dealings with in
the near future, but it seemed as if the Vulcan would now have to recall that
vow. That person was, after all, related to the events Kemper had been
asking about.
Brooding over his responsibilities for another moment, Sorik finally rose
and made his way back out into the outer office.
"Lieutenant Bradley," he said, approaching the office manager.
"Yes, Commander?" she asked, turning.
"You will have to cancel my appointments for the afternoon," he said, and
then turned for the door.
"Leaving again?" she asked.
"Apparently so," he replied without stopping.
"May I ask where you're going, sir? In case anyone needs to reach you," she
called.
Sorik paused to face her. "Utopia Planitia," he told her, and then left the
room.

- TBC -

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In the Absence of Shadows (Part Seven)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60004.09

"May I ask where you're going, sir? In case anyone needs to reach you," the
office manager called.
Sorik paused to face her. "Utopia Planitia," he told her, and then left the
room.
The shuttle banked and came in over the planet of Mars at a steady but quick
pace. Sorik glanced out the window to see the metal frame of the Utopia
Planitia Fleet Yards' orbital spacedock, where the shell of a prototype
starship was being constructed within the gigantic docking bay.
The shuttle continued on, swooping down through the heavy traffic of
shuttlepods and workbees, toward the ground facilities located directly below
the massive orbital shipyards.
"Here we are, Commander," the pilot announced, placing the shuttle down
softly on the deck of the hangarbay.
"Thank you, Ensign," Sorik replied, rising and making toward the hatch.
The ground facilities contained the administrative offices for the yards,
where most of the civilian administrative personnel worked and provided
support information for the orbital facilities above. Access to the area was
mainly restricted, but Sorik had the clearance necessary to proceed within.
Having memorized a schematic of the facility, Sorik quickly found the
offices he was looking for and made his way inside. He arrived at the
appropriate door, labeled "LCdr Rollins: Public/Media Relations Assistant,"
and pressed the chime.
"Come in," called the voice within.
Sorik entered and glanced about until he located the person he was seeking,
who was buried behind a desk cluttered with PADDs and other various
materials.
"What can I do for--?" the man began, but paused as he looked up into
Sorik's eyes. "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle! Sorik?"
"Your are correct," the Vulcan replied.
Edwin Rollins, a tall and lanky Human, rose and approached Sorik quickly,
extending his hand. "I was wondering when you'd make it out this way. I
caught your name on the updated Academy mailing list a few months ago, and
I've been meaning to contact you. I've just been sooo busy around here...You
know how it is."
"Indeed," Sorik replied.
"Sit, sit," Rollins offered, pointing to an empty chair by the desk. "Is
this your first time to Mars?"
"Yes," Sorik said, sitting.
"Ah, you need to take a tour to the Elysium Planitia Volcanoes," Rollins
told him, sitting behind his desk. "The biggest one is about 15 kilometers
high, I believe. It will blow your friggin' mind."
"That is unlikely," Sorik stated. "And I am not here for leisure activity."
"Ah, of course not," Rollins sighed. "Well, what does bring ya' out this
way, Commander? Wanting to get a sneak peak at all the snazzy new starships
we're building out here?"
"Although that is intriguing, that is not the reason I have come to Mars,"
Sorik explained. "I am here to speak with you about the Kiliman Incident."
Rollins' face soured greatly. "Now there's something I haven't thought of
in a long, long time," he said. "Well, Sorik, what's on your mind?"

- TBC -

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NOTE: This story takes place shortly after the sim last Thursday.

Two Guys, a Tree and a Mountain Lion (Part One)
by Doctor Mannix and Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60004.17


The rabbit paused and cocked its head up into the air. Something unfamiliar
was nearby, it realized. Motionless, the animal listened carefully as the
sound echoed out from beyond the trees around it. Whatever it was, the
rabbit found it quite disturbing and it retreated further up the hill until
it felt safe from the approaching noise.
The noise continued to grow louder and louder. It was the unique sound of
two people quibbling with one another.
Despite their constant "disagreeing," Doctor Mannix and Commander Sorik had
moved at a quick and steady pace for the past hour across the wilderness of
the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Each of them had carried an equal share of the
supplies that Commander Nimembeh had transported to their location.
Sorik, leading the way, gazed up to the darkening sky for a moment and then
paused. He placed down his bundle of supplies and began rooting through
them.
"What are you looking for, Sorik?" Mason rummaged around in his own
supplies, or what there was of them. "There isn't much to choose from, is
there?"
"I am attempting to ascertain the full potential of the supplies we have
been granted," Sorik replied, examining the cord saw. "As nightfall is
approaching, I believe preparing shelter to now be our primary concern."
Mason looked toward the western horizon, then up into the darkening sky.
"Well, we are fortunate that it is a clear night, and looks like it will be
that way at least until morning. The sun has just about set and there is a
nice red glow. The stars are bright, and we have a full moon. So, all I
think we'll need is maybe a blanket. You agree?"
Sorik considered the professor's suggestion for a moment. "Although the
current weather conditions seem favorable, logic would dictate that we should
prepare an appropriate shelter due to the uncertainty of our environment,"
the Vulcan explained. "We do not know exactly who, or what, we are sharing
these woods with, Doctor. I believe it is imperative that we utilize these
tools and the surrounding elements to construct that shelter. As Humans
say, we must expect the unexpected."
"Are you planning on vacationing here? I thought the idea was to get back
to camp as quickly as possible." Mannix pointed to the sky. "Doesn't it
make sense to stay here only long enough to get a little rest? Like you
said, these favorable conditions may not be here for long."
Mason sat down on a big rock and thought for a moment while Sorik glanced
off, seemingly annoyed although Mannix knew that was unlikely.
"Tell you what," Mannix continued. "You get some sleep and I'll keep watch.
After three hours, I'll wake you and we reverse the roles. That will take us
to just about daybreak, then we can be on the move again? Sound logical to
you, Mr. Vulcan?"
Sorik raised an eyebrow. "Your logic is sound, Doctor. Considering the
situation, posting watch would be an excellent idea as it would conserve our
time and energy from constructing a shelter."
Mannix nodded proudly as Sorik removed the shovel and knife from the
supplies.
"Since we do not have phasers, you should arm yourself with these items,"
Sorik said, handing them to Mannix. "It might also be wise to acquire
something to eat. The combination of our long trek tomorrow and our
intermittent sleep throughout the night will leave us both malnourished."
"If we are surprised, I bash it first, then carve it up for breakfast in the
morning?" Mason chuckled sarcastically. "I'll see what I can find at the
corner deli."
"I would advise caution, Doctor," Sorik stated. "Upon reexamining our
current predicament again, I feel it might also be wise to construct a
campfire, for warmth as well as protection during the night."
Sorik glanced about at the woods around them.
"I suggest we make a wide circle in opposite directions," he said, pointing
around them. "You search for something edible, and I will collect twigs for
a fire. We should meet back here within the hour."
"You got a deal, Sorik."
Sorik nodded, though not expecting Mannix to be so agreeable. Mason glanced
at the items in his hands and then at Sorik. "You got your own weapons,
Sorik, or do you want one of these?"
Sorik glanced down at the remaining supplies and then back to Mannix. "I
will take one of those, Doctor. Which ever one you wish to part with will be
acceptable."
"Well, since I will probably have to bash our breakfast, I'll give you the
knife." Mason handed it over to him and turned to begin his quest. "Here's
hoping I find a nice jack rabbit or two."
Sorik nodded again, considering the chances of the doctor actually catching
or bashing anything. The Vulcan firmly gripped the knife as he turned and
began rummaging through the brush looking for wood.

- TBC -

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Two Guys, a Tree and a Mountain Lion (Part Two)
by Doctor Mannix and Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60004.17

"Well, since I will probably have to bash our breakfast, I'll give you the
knife." Mason handed it over to him and turned to begin his quest. "Here's
hoping I find a nice jack rabbit or two."
Sorik nodded again, considering the chances of the doctor actually catching
or bashing anything. The Vulcan firmly gripped the knife as he turned and
began rummaging through the brush looking for wood.
A little over an hour later, Mason returned to their make shift camp with
one jack rabbit to the good. With a slight grin, he sat down on his rock and
waited for the Vulcan to return.
It didn't take long for the professor to grow restless. Sorik should have
been back by now. In fact, Mannix was surprised that Sorik had not beaten
him back here. Mason stood up and looked out into the darkness. The full
moon lit up the area quite well, but he saw no sign of Sorik.
He quickly hid what was to be their breakfast, and went out in search of the
Vulcan. Mannix carefully followed the Sorik's route in the hope that it
would eventually lead to him.
The woods were unusually quiet, Mason noticed, but remained focused on
locating the Vulcan. Suddenly a loud whisper echoed out of the night,
"Doctor Mannix, do not move."
The professor froze. The whisper, which was undoubtedly Sorik's, seemed to
come from in front of and above Mason's position. Carefully he looked toward
the origin of the sound and saw something which vaguely resembled a person,
sitting rather precariously in a very scraggly tree. A sudden low growl
echoed from underneath the tree. Mason could now make out a tail swishing
back and forth under the tree.
He looked up at the figure in the tree, and shook his head. Unfortunately,
Mannix forgot himself and took another step.
In the deathly quiet, it sounded like a dozen fire crackers going off.
Mason looked down to see that he stepped in what had been Sorik's twig
collection. The rustle of grass caused him to look back up just in time to
see a shadowy feline shape leaping toward him. With a speed and agility he
never knew he possessed, Mason darted for the tree and vaulted up next to
Sorik as the mountain lion's paw swept the air under the doctor's feet.
"Welcome, Doctor," Sorik said without a hint of emotion.
After catching his breath, Mason settled down on another branch. "Make a
new friend, Sorik?" he asked, still somewhat startled.
"So it would seem," Sorik replied dryly. "I encountered the animal some
time ago and noted that my knife was no match for its natural offensive
abilities. I concluded that an immediate retreat of the area was in order;
however, the animal's swiftness got the better of me, and I was forced up
into my current location."
"Well, I think there is one thing that you neglected to reason through."
Mannix pointed to the lion pacing back and forth under the tree. "I think
it's deciding whether it wants to come up here after us. I am pretty certain
that it can. You may want to keep that knife handy."
Sorik was silent a moment. "That would be a wise choice, Doctor," he said.
"However, in my attempt to outmaneuver the animal, I dropped the weapon. It
is currently lying at the base of the tree."
"Wonderful" Mannix looked at the big cat, then back at Sorik. "What songs
do you know?"
"I beg your pardon?" Sorik asked.
"The only defense we have remaining is to make ourselves as uninteresting to
that cat as possible. If I have guessed correctly, our singing will drive it
away in no time." The professor shifted on the branch. "So, do you know
Puff the Magic Dragon?" Not waiting for an answer, Mannix proceeded to sing
very loudly. "Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea..."
The Vulcan and the lion both glanced at the professor simultaneously. The
lion cocked its head, while Sorik raised an eyebrow at the professor
"Doctor, I believe your logic is faulty," Sorik said. "Singing," he
continued, "might in fact only antagonize the animal more. There is no
reason to believe that serenading that animal will force it to leave us
alone."
The professor simply stuck out his tongue at the Vulcan and continued to
sing even more loudly. The professor's voice carried through the night, his
tune echoing down the side of the mountain. The noise caused many sleeping
birds and animals to awaken and scurry away from the ruckus.
The big cat continued to look up at the pair sitting in the tree above it.
The animal had never experienced anything quite like this before. Soon, it
decided that they were not worth so much trouble after all, and took off
after a rabbit that had been startled by the singing.
Sorik watched the animal dart off into the woods. The moonlight may have
been misleading, but Mannix could have sworn that he saw an extremely brief
expression of disbelief on the Vulcan's face. Sorik then turned to face him,
and the Vulcan appeared annoyed once again...as usual.
"That was a coincidence, I assure you," Sorik stated.
"Of course it was," Mason replied, grinning from ear to ear.

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young catian right passage
a mother thoughts
pt3
ataris kneeling on the pillow . waiting to hear of her challenge. mother
smile at her daughter . thing would be reavelid soon enough. it time to tell
her duaghter of chanllenges .
or at least her first challenge. mind you no easy challenge . was worried
that her daughter . would be hurt durring the hunt. where she must track down
the beast . that they hunt for scared celberation .
"ataris you are to hunt beast that is know to us all ," "that we all fed
apond , durring our lives as tribe ," "you must only use skill that you have
," "tool acitent making , no other tool," such of morden techonogail may use
,"
ataris nod her head slowly to mother word . she was going suceed . in this
first of three challenges. true the hunt take all physcial skill.
she be prepare , she had little time to do that . hunt would take palace . on
the next day , gave her twenty four hour to have a plan . gather hunting
stuff that she need. for her to chose the member . that would a compny her .
bear witness to the hunt.

tbc

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Home and Sick Part 1
By Cadet Hatch Lars Teg

Hatch slowly walked into the Health Services Clinic on campus. His halting
and ponderous footsteps gave clear indication as to his physical well-being.
Approaching the reception counter, the receptionist gave him a look of
disgust. As see gathered herself to look back at Hatch, he grabbed a facial
tissue and held it up to his mouth and turned his head. After
about 30 seconds of 'hacking' that would make even the most hearty of doctors
gag at the sound, he turned back to the pale and cringing receptionist.
"Cadet Hatch Lars Teg, registration number 7986-9342-421. I need to see a
doctor. I'm not feeling very well."
In stunned silence, the receptionist typed in a few things into the computer
and quickly buried her face into the console. Without looking up, she said
"Exam room 4-B" and pointed towards the assigned
area.
Continuing his snails pace, Hatch walked towards the room. He felt the
sickening feel of the fluids sloshing around in his lungs. Hatch couldn't
remember feeling this bad in quite a long time. Thinking back about 2 weeks,
he remembered feeling a little like this when he picked up that unusual viral
strain that put him out for two days. Spending a week out in
the wilderness with no warmth and periods of cold, soaking rain must have
weakened his immune system enough for that virus to come back again. Oh how
he enjoyed that week out in the woods. While earning the praise of the
instructors and a physics lab A for the week for helping save Dr. Mannix and
Commander Sorik's life, he now had to pay for it by another visit by this
nasty 'bug.' His three day weekend was ruined by this virus. What should
have
been a good day trip out in San Francisco with most of the other Takarans
turned out to be a trip to the medical facilities. Hatch thought he got
ripped off on the deal. Entering the exam room, he crawled onto the biobed
in the middle of the light blue room and quickly dozed off.
After taking a moment to compose herself, the receptionist walked back to
the doctors lounge. Seeing a moderate sized group of Doctors and Senior
medical students, she walked over to them. Stopping behind the group as they
finished talking about something, she then stepped up to them and held out a
data padd.
"Sirs, we have that Takaran with the nasty virus last week back. He appears
to have experienced a relapse on his treatment and has had an occurrence of
the virus again. He looks pretty horrible. He is in exam room 4-B."

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Home and Sick Part 2
By Cadet Hatch Lars Teg

"Sirs, we have that Takaran with the nasty virus last week back. He appears
to have experienced a relapse on his treatment and has had an occurrence of
the virus again. He looks pretty horrible. He is in exam room 4-B."

The group of doctors and students looked at each other and then to Cadet
Millian. Millian looked up from his data padd and grinned. Getting up from
the table, Millian and a Doctor Un'to walked towards the exam room. Millian
thought he could hear the other Cadets start the all to familiar chant
'Millian the microbeaphile.' The Cadet just grinned as he knew
nobody in his class and only a few professors in the Academy could match his
knowledge and enthusiasm when it came to microbiology and Immunology.
Looking over to Doctor Un'to, Millian couldn't help but feel that he more
then easily could win out over him in a test of knowledge. Sadly, Millian
knew they were all jealous of him and that was why he was failing his general
studies classes. They couldn't challenge his medical knowledge, so they
attacked him in the only other why. Millian knew he had to prove his
Doctoring skills were so great, they would have to graduate him. No way the
Academy would not pass a Nobel or Pasture winning Medical Student if he
failed such a meaningless class like Federation law or Moral and Ethical
issues.
As the two entered Exam room 4-A, Hatch restlessly slept on the bio-bed.
Sweating and shaking, he was caught in a dream about home. There, in the
Governors palace where he grew up was his entire family. They appeared to be
having a picnic of some sorts in the room dubbed 'chamber of lights'. The
brilliant colors of his homeworlds sky were magnified ten fold by the colored
glass dome that arched towards the heavens. Hatch seemed to be viewing
this all from behind some warped transparent wall, as his family seemed all
distorted. Turning his attention to his father, the visage of him seemed
dark and sinister; an evil twist to his normally kind and caring face.
Despite what seemed like a nice occurrence as the picnic appeared, Hatch only
could feel that this all hid something cold and ominous. Hatch quickly sat
up in the bio-bed when the two medical personnel walked in.
"Not feeling well are we Cadet Teg?" Doctor Un'to asked. "I see that nasty
virus made its return with a vengeance on you. Well, Cadet Millian and I
will help you and finally get
that nasty thing destroyed so you don't have this happen again."
Doctor Un'to started scanning Hatch with the main bio-bed scanners when
Cadet Millian walked closer to Hatch with a microbial extractor. He turned
to the Doctor and asked.
"Doctor, I am going to take another sample of this for closer study. It is
an interesting and very crafty virus to have survived the initial treatment
we gave Cadet Teg here last week."
The Doctor nodded in agreement to Millian. As Millian scanned and took
various blood, skin, and mucous samples from Cadet Teg; he couldn't help but
think this might be his chance to show is skills. From what he remembered in
the initial scanning and treatment of Hatch, the virus was one of the most
RNA complex yet widely infectious to various species they had
ever encountered in Federation medical history. The virus could be altered
slightly and used for so many other purposes. The RNA skeleton of this could
be 'tweaked' to be more prolific and tolerant to outside sources and natural
antibodies. Then it could be used as a delivery source for the multi-species
bacteriostatic enzymes or safe anagelic treatment project he was working on.
Taking quadruple samples so he would have enough for
Starfleet medical and himself, he hid some of the samples in his lab coat and
turned the rest over to Doctor Un'to.
"Well, Cadet Teg, we will get right to finding the proper anti-viral agent
for you and get you feeling better. We are going to have to keep you here
under quarantine for now and give you some stuff to reduce the symptoms you
are experiencing now. It should only take a few hours for this all to
happen, then you can be back to 100%."
Hatch laid down and let the many hypos of drugs the Doctor gave him a chance
to work. Millian excused himself from the Doctor and raced over to his
private lab section in the Immunology lab area. He knew he needed to work
quickly as he needed to reintroduce the reengineered virus back into the
original host to make sure it was not destroyed by the antibodies.
Millian grinned ear to ear as he tapped the sample cases in his lab coat.
"Yes, I do believe a Nobel or Pasture will be in order for such a
breakthrough of this magnitude."

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Home and Sick Part 3
By Cadet Hatch Lars Teg

Hatch laid down and let the many hypos of drugs the Doctor gave him a chance
to work. Millian excused himself from the Doctor and raced over to his
private lab section in the Immunology lab area. He knew he needed to work
quickly as he needed to reintroduce the reengineered virus back into the
orginal host to make sure it was not destroyed by the antibodies.
Millian grinned ear to ear as he tapped the sample cases in his lab coat.
"Yes, I do believe a Nobel or Pasture will be in order for such a
breakthrough of this magnitude."

Hatch slowly pulled himself off the Bio-bed. He frowned at Cadet Millian as
he grinned back to him with this almost unsettling smile. Hatch did have to
admit he was feeling much better and thanked the medical student as he exited
the small exam room off from the main clinic receiving area. What was
supposed to be just a few hours turned into nearly the entire
day. Hatch was just glad no classes were being held today else he would have
missed even more time and been that much more behind. Spending the last five
hours laying in that tiny exam room with that medical student running in and
out injecting him with hypo after hypo was not the best utilization of time;
but Hatch thought if it made him finally get rid of this virus, it was time
well spent.
As Hatch walked out of the medical clinic, he looked around. He seemed to
remember he wanted to go do something when he felt better, but he was having
trouble remembering exactly what. Walking around for a few minutes and
looking at the various buildings on campus didn't help him recall what
exactly he had in mind. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and walked back
towards his dorm. As he passed one of the transporter padds, it shimmered to
life
and several Takarans appeared. Turning to them, he saw a bunch of smiling
faces run over to him.
"Hey Lars, glad to see you are among the living again." A young Takaran
female said to him with a pleasant smile on her face.
"Yes it is good to feel..... (long pause) better." He responded without a
reply of acknowledgment. Something back in his mind told him he knew this
person, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"You all right Lars? You seem a little out of touch. You know who this
is?"
Hatch squinted a bit at her and scanned his memory. It was a bit disturbing
to find it so patchy, but the euphoric feeling he felt kept him from
acknowledging it. "Kan'la?"
"Yes you silly goof. Come on, I bet the Doc's got you so pumped full of
drugs you barely know your own name. Come on guys, lets help Hatch back to
his Quad. I think he needs some sleep. The Docs back home never would have
drugged you this bad. Poor little Hatch."
As the Takarans helped escort the groggy Hatch back towards his dorm,
millions of microscopic organisms took flight from the body of Hatch and went
off in search for new fertile grounds to affect. Without pause they entered
into the various beings along the way and begun their reprogramed mission.

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Home and Sick Part 4
By Cadet Hatch Lars Teg

Millian grinned ear to ear as he watch the pour, unsuspecting Cadet exit the
clinic. He was almost openly giddy as he walked back to the exam room he
ushered the Cadet into when he was officially released from the clinic. If
they knew he was conducting 'experiments' without approval and prior
knowledge, they would throw him
out of the Academy and into some work program. But then they never knew the
lack of risk with someone as intelligent as Millian was involved. Millian
never made a mistake. He glanced at the passing Vulcan Commander as he made
his way back to the Immunology lab to go back over the latest data on the
Cadet's blood work. To have a broad based reengineered virus that not only
fought off other bacteria and viruses but also acted as a pain killer and
fever reducer would take medicine to the next level.
Stopping by the Doctors lounge, he noticed Silva was there. The radiant
flower he only could hope to get near, Millian was feeling more confident
then ever before. Walking up to her, he spoke softly.
"So, would you like to see the final project of a potential Nobel prize
winner?"
Silva turned around with a puzzled look on her face. After a moment a coy
smirk came across her face. "Why? Is Dr. Mannix doing an experiment right
now?"
Millian didn't respond and just walked away. Before Silva could stop him,
he quickly walked out of the lounge and towards the Immunology lab.
"Yea, she'll want me when I get all the awards and glory for this work."
With that Millian coughed a bit. Clearing his throat in the lift filled with
underclassbeings, he thought how young these level one cadets looked. With a
sigh he walked off the lift and into the lab; unknowingly leaving behind some
of his 'Nobel' project to do its 'work' on the unsuspecting cadets.

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Sick and Home
Through a Vulcan's Eyes
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60004.26

"Well, Commander, I'm happy to inform you that your bones have completely
healed," Doctor Un'to said, smiling as he glanced down from the monitor above
the bio-bed. "You took a nasty fall last week, but those Vulcan healing
techniques of yours are extraordinary. I would like to write a paper about
them someday, with your assistance and approval, of course."
"Perhaps someday," Sorik said, hardly serious.
"Come now, Commander. Don't you want to share such a rare talent with the
future generations of Starfleet Medical?" Un'to asked while glancing over at
Cadet Millian, who was taking notes on a PADD.
"Not in particularly," Sorik replied.
"Ah, Vulcans," Un'to scoffed. "Always so secretive. Come, Millian, let's
join your classmates in the lounge and leave Commander Sorik here to get
dressed."
"Aye, Doctor," Millian nodded, eagerly turning to follow Un'to.
"Keep to light duty for at least one more week," Un'to told Sorik. "After
that, any unusual symptom and you're to report back here at once."
"Understood, Doctor," Sorik said, stepping down off the bio-bed.
As the doctor and med student left him alone in Exam Room 4-C, Sorik moved
to the chair where his uniform was hanging neatly and began to get dressed.
Within moments he was properly attired again and the Vulcan made for the
door. Opening it, he noticed someone slowly moving by the door out in the
hallway.
It was Cadet Teg, Sorik easily noted, but the Takaran did not seem to take
notice to the Vulcan standing there. Sorik's could hear detected Teg's
abnormal breathing, an obvious sign of sickness. As Teg entered the exam
room next door, Sorik stepped out into the hallway.
Sorik said nothing to Teg, respecting the cadet's situation and not wanting
to bother him during a time of illness. Turning, Sorik made his way toward
the receptionist area to check himself out of the facility.
While completing the immense amount of paperwork and release forms, Sorik
noticed Millian rush by him en route for the Immunology lab area. After
watching the cadet for a moment, Sorik went to hand the PADD back to the
receptionist when he suddenly sneezed.
It was more than a sneeze. It sounded as if the Academy orchestra trumpet
section had just fallen down a turbolift shaft.
The receptionist, whom had never seen a Vulcan sneeze before, was in a brief
state of shock. Sorik seemed equally surprised, as if someone had stunned
him with a phaser.
The receptionist quickly recovered, however, and was about to bless him when
Sorik's face stiffened, returning to its normal, expressionless position.
"Excuse me," Sorik said, but his voice hinted at his bewilderment.
Before the receptionist could say anything, the Vulcan turned and made his
way from the building.

TBC?
(in the sim?)

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The Sniffles Be Gone
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60004.26

"Easy there, Commander," came a voice from somewhere above him.
Sorik lifted his eyes up from that fascinating spot on the stage floor to
see a hypo being pressed against his neck. Another rush of dizziness swelled
through him, but this time the sensation was followed by one of clarity. The
world around him slowly began to come back into focus after what seemed like
an eternity.
"There, that's much better," came the voice again.
Sorik glanced over to see the form of a young medical officer taking shape
before him. The young man, wearing an EVA suit, was studying his tricorder
and monitoring the Vulcan's improving process. Sorik then realized he was
able to comprehend the thoughts in his mind again, and able to formulate
complete sentences that actually made some sort of sense.
He was also grateful, he realized, that his sneezing seemed to be over.
"Fascinating," Sorik muttered.
"I can imagine, sir," the medic replied. "You should be feeling somewhat
better than you were a half hour ago."
"Indeed," Sorik said, standing slowly. "May I ask what is happening here?"
"I'm not too sure, sir. There was some kind of outbreak," the medic
explained. "I was called in from leave to assist with the quarantine
procedures. During the rushed briefing they gave us all, they explained that
some kind of virus mutation had escaped the campus health facility thanks to
an overeager medical student. When that was revealed, they were able be
begin working on a quick cure and then they sent us out to inject everybody
with it."
"Virus mutation?" Sorik asked. Glancing around the lecture hall, he
discovered several more medical officers treating cadets, faculty and
guests--all victims to the bizarre effects of the virus. Sorik's eyes fell
upon Cadet Tormek, who was seemingly unaffected and assisting the medical
staff.
"Most of the Vulcans on campus were not greatly affected," the medical
ensign pointed out. "You must have been directly exposed to the base blast
virus and became a mutation carrier, due to your...um, reaction to the virus.
Those initially exposed to the original form of the virus almost always were
affected no matter the species."
"If I am permitted to do so, I would like to check in with Campus Security
to assist with the remainder of the quarantine procedures," Sorik said,
straightening his uniform.
"I'm sorry, sir, but all persons with signs of the virus are ordered to
report to the medical facilities for further examination," the ensign told
him. "Since this is a new bug, we don't know what's going to happen next and
we'll need to run more tests on everybody."
Sorik realized he had a few choice words for the medic, presuming it was an
affect of the virus, but the Vulcan managed to restrain himself.
"Understood," he said, rising and walking with the medic toward the health
facility. But the Vulcan wondered how he was going to write about this in
his report...

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The Phantom Menace (Episode One)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60005.03

"And you are certain that you did not leave it anywhere?" Sorik asked,
making notes on his PADD.
"I'm positive," replied Cadet Emily Barnes. "It's my journal, sir. Every
private and personal thought I've had here at the Academy over the past two
years have been written down in it. I never take it out of this room."
Sorik nodded, glancing about her dormitory room. "And you are positive your
roommate did not take it?" he asked.
"She's been living at the Federation Terraforming Facility on Venus as part
of her Planetary Sciences internship," Barnes replied. "She hasn't been back
all semester."
Sorik's combadge suddenly chirped. "Ensign Furuya to Commander Sorik. Could
you please report to the library, sir?"
"On my way," Sorik replied. Turning to Barnes, "Do not worry, Cadet. We
will fully investigate this matter."
"Please," Barnes replied. "That journal means everything to me."
After leaving the dorm, Sorik made his way across campus to the mammoth
library. He found the young security ensign waiting outside.
"I'm sorry to bother you about this, sir," Furuya said, leading Sorik
inside, "but with all the bizarre reports we've been getting lately, I
thought you might want to see this for yourself."
"To what 'bizarre reports' are you referring?" Sorik asked.
"You know, sir, all the reports of missing or misplaced items," Furuya
explained. "This one really takes the cake."
Furuya and Sorik rode the turbolift down to the lowest subbasement level, an
area that can only be accessed by authorized personnel. They stepped out of
the lift and proceeded along a dimly lit corridor.
"Man, this place gives me the creeps," Furuya remarked.
"Why is that?" Sorik asked.
"Huh? Oh, well, just look at it," Furuya tried to explain. "You never know
what might pop out at you down here."
Sorik raised an eyebrow. "All I see is a corridor not unlike any of the
other corridors in this facility, with the obvious exception of proper
lighting and windows. I do not see why anything would choose to 'pop' out on
us here as opposed to anywhere else in this building."
Furuya shook his head. "Well, maybe you'll change your mind once you've
seen this," he said, pausing at a door and pressing the access button.
The door slid aside, allowing Sorik to see within the room beyond. The
stoic Vulcan paused, quickly taking in the sight within...

- TBC -

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The Phantom Menace (Episode Two)
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60005.03

Furuya shook his head. "Well, maybe you'll change your mind once you've
seen this," he said, pausing at a door and pressing the access button.
The door slid aside, allowing Sorik to see within the room beyond. The
stoic Vulcan paused, quickly taking in the sight within...
The room was used for the storage of early Starfleet documents and
memorabilia. Sorik had visited the archive once during his initial tour of
the grounds, and he clearly remembered the seemingly endless arrangement of
rowed shelves stocked with hundreds of the preserved items. But that's now
how the room appeared now.
The archive had been ransacked, as if a whirlwind had swept through the room
and knocking over shelves and throwing the preserved items around at random.
"Commander! Look at this mess!" shouted the chief recordkeeper, Benjamin
McCloud, as he approached the security officers. "I've been the victim of
student pranks before, but this is outrageous! What kind of sicko would do
such a thing!"
"That is a valid question," Sorik commented. Turning to Furuya, "Ensign?"
"That's what I was getting at out in that dark corridor, Commander," Furuya
said. "I checked right before I called you--there is absolutely nothing
recorded on the internal sensors. According to the logs, nobody has been in
this room since last week."
"That must have been me," McCloud said. "I made my rounds Friday evening
before leaving for the weekend. This place was locked up tight when I left."
"Could the sensor logs have been manipulated?" Furuya asked, looking at
Sorik.
"They could have been, but that is highly unlikely," Sorik stated. "There
are numerous system protocols and encryptions in place, many of which I have
implemented myself. I do not believe this is a student prank."
"It's the ghost," Furuya muttered.
"Come again?" McCloud asked.
Furuya glanced up at him, and then to an equally curious Sorik. "Some of
the cadets have been talking about it, sir," the ensign explained. "All the
missing and misplaced items. Some have reported hearing voices, or sensing
they were being watched while alone in their rooms."
"Paranoia and superstition is a typical emotional response to bizarre
phenomena," Sorik noted. "The Academy has been around for over 100 years,
Ensign. Why would a ghost choose this time to begin haunting the campus?"
"Perhaps that makes sense, but how do you explain this, then?" McCloud
asked, beckoning over his shoulder to the room.
"I cannot explain it at this time," Sorik said. "However, that does not
mean there is not an explanation out there. I will find it and solve
this...mystery."
Sorik looked at both Furuya and McCloud, and then left the room. Making his
way back to the turbolift, he noted that the corridor was, indeed, rather
dark...

TBC...in the sim...

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NOTE: This log takes place shortly after the last sim and shortly before the
sim this coming Wednesday.

Be Very, Very Quiet...
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60005.08

"I think we're about ready, Commander," called Lieutenant Gray, looking up
from her tricorder.
Sorik turned away from the corridor he was scanning and made his way back to
the lobby of the dormitory, where Gray was standing.
"The...uh...new internal sensor grid is online, sir," Gray informed him,
purposely in case anyone was observing their activity.
"Excellent," Sorik stated, looking over the small, gray box fastened to the
wall near the doorway. "Now we will be able to detect if any cadets are
attempting to sneak illegal substances into this dormitory."
Sorik helped Gray pack up the tools and the two security officers made their
way out of the building. They had been working and installing "internal
sensors" at various points around campus...various points that just happened
to coincide with recent reports of missing or stolen items. Campus Security
maintained it was to catch suspected cadets of illegal activity, but that was
just the cover story.
Back at the Security office, Sorik and Gray entered the department to find
various other security officers awaiting them. Without saying a word,
several of them made their way into a storage closet and shut the door behind
them, leaving the rest of the staff to go about their business.
"Activate," Sorik stated, his back against the wall of the closet.
A red beam suddenly swept over the dozen officers and around the cramped
room. The personnel stood as still as possible as another beam, green in
color, swept the room from the other direction. Then, after a moment, the
beams disappeared.
"We're all clear," Ensign Furuya announced.
"Just because the scanners did not detect anything within their assigned
parameters does not mean we are all clear," Sorik pointed out.
"Uh, yes, sir," Furuya muttered, glancing about.
"Nevertheless, we will continue," Sorik said quickly but in a hushed tone.
"The dormitory sensors are in place and functioning. We will now proceed to
Stage Four. At 2000 hours ensigns Chevez and Sisko will create the diversion
we discussed earlier. The rest of us should be in position by that time."
The other officers nodded their understanding.
"Make sure your inhibitors are adjusted to the correct frequency," Sorik
reminded them, "otherwise this plan will not work."
"Understood," Gray said, while again the other officers nodded.
"Then let us continue with the charade and go about our duties, as usual,"
Sorik said, turning for the door. He opened it, glanced about the corridor,
and then stepped out and casually made for his office without looking back.

- TBC -

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NOTE: This is a continuation of "Be Very, Very Quiet..."

...I'm'a Ghost-Hunting!
by Commander Sorik
Stardate: 60005.08

"Make sure your inhibitors are adjusted to the correct frequency," Sorik
reminded them, "otherwise this plan will not work."
"Understood," Gray said, while again the other officers nodded.
"Then let us continue with the charade and go about our duties, as usual,"
Sorik said, turning for the door. He opened it, glanced about the corridor,
and then stepped out and casually made for his office without looking back.
"I hate waiting," Ensign Furuya muttered, turning away from the screen and
rubbing his eyes.
Ensign Carter glanced over and shot him a "what are you doing?" look.
Furuya caught it, and quickly covered his statement. "...for my shift to
end," he said.
Carter nodded, satisfied. "I know what you mean."
Furuya and Carter had been monitoring various parts of the campus from the
Security Office for almost eight hours. They were supposedly running
diagnostics of the campus security cameras, but their real task was to keep
an eye on Team Alpha as they moved into position.
Even though they were the only ones in the room, Commander Sorik had given
them strict orders to act conspicuously at all times...even when supposedly
alone.
"Furuya, could you pull up Section 2-J, please," Carter said. "I'm having
trouble with Camera 4116."
"Right," Furuya replied, tapping at the console. Then, in a low tone, "Hey,
Carter, can I ask you something?"
"I guess."
"What if it really is a ghost?" Furuya asked.
Carter shot him another look, but Furuya ignored it this time.
"I'm serious," Furuya whispered. "What if the commander is wrong, and there
really is a ghost lurking about the campus?"
Carter glanced over his shoulder at the empty room. Then, turning back to
Furuya, "Well, if it is, we'll hopefully detect it tonight."
"Is that possible?" Furuya asked.
"I don't know," Carter snapped, becoming annoyed. "But with this new sensor
equipment, we can detect just about anything else."
"If it is a ghost, what do we do about it?" Furuya wondered. "It's not like
we can arrest it and-"
"Would you hush up, already?" Carter barked in a hushed tone. "Keep your
eyes on your screen and start flipping through the sensor spectrum again.
And stop talking about ghosts! You're creeping me out! That's almost worse
than-"
The two men glanced at one another, but Carter refrained himself from
finishing his sentence. Then, after a moment, the two ensigns returned their
attentions to their monitors and went back to work.

TBC...in the sim

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young catians right of passage
pt3 .A
chosing a hunting party
ataris got up form,knealing . glance around the learnming hutt . small smile
creeping on to her face . so first changles began . she was truely growing up
. she had taken many step towards this .
remember sitting here in learning hutt . listening to elder teacher her stuff
about out side world about them seleves. sat deep ever green pillows and took
in all knowledge she could .
brought smile to her face as she thought back. to just how huch she had learn
and come to understand . wonderful her family had been to her. when she was
so young. now here she was about to take giant leap. new path of her life .
in some ways she fear it other ways she did not .
as she look at charts that hung form walls . book stack neat on there
shelves. fiquire of important people of different history . carefuly palce on
table around the room. how much this palace m,ean to her right now . then it
did back then . chesire cat like grin coming to her face.
it was time for her leave this fond traval down memory lane . to go and chose
the people that would come . on her hunting party . she knew one of people
that musyt be part of it . was own flesh very dear blood .
her brother jartes, he must stand beside her durring the hunt. she wouldn't
want any other way . trhe other member of her hunting parting . would be her
dearest friend anna ,azura, aziza. they to would bear witness join in the
hunt party.

tbc

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Crys plopped down on her bed, exhausted. "Time for a break." She sat and
rested for a few minutes, then pulled out a small platter covered with a
stasis lid. removing the lid, she took a cookie and bit into it, replacing
the lid. "Computer, begin personal log for Crys Jacobs, current stardate."
"Unable to comply. That name is not on file."
Crys set the platter down on the bed next to her, frowning. "Not on file--
oh, of course. I really have to get that changed!" She picked up a PADD and
made a note. "Computer, begin personal log for Nicole Jacobs." She rolled
her eyes. "Current stardate."
"Log opened," the computer responded.
"Well, I've almost finished unpacking everything. Mom sent along a batch of
her famous cookies, and they seem to have survived the trip just fine." She
smiled, taking another bite of her cookie. "I haven't met my roommate yet
really, only what little we got to see of each other yesterday during the
search for the stolen items. I'm hoping to meet up with
the quad leader soon; he promised to show me around."
Crys looked down at her hands. "I miss Suzie already. I'm gonna contact
her sometime this week, just to talk." She bit her bottom lip, taking a deep
breath. She swallowed, raising her head. "Computer, end log."
"Log closed."