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"You're in a hospital, Robert. You've been in an accident, and the
medevac officers brought you back to Starfleet Medical." A lie? Yes. Terry
Hayworth couldn't exactly tell him the full truth. What would she tell him?
You were an Intelligence Commander but you became a risk to the organization
so they decided to erase all your memories and implant new ones, change your
past, and change you? Of course not. Terry had been briefed on all the
implanted memories; she was prepared to field any
questions that might have come her way. Of course, her duty here was to
reinforce all the implanted memories with counseling techniques and
psychobabble, convincing the Commander-- no, the Cadet, that he was who she
said he was. But she found it increasingly difficult to keep her mind on
work as the young man sat before her, alone, insecure, and possibly a little
frightened. He was handsome, too, with soft, inviting, brown eyes and
short-cropped brown hair; his rear wasn't too shabby either, she had
noticed as he walked in before.
Robert nodded, recalling, once more, the incident in the transport over
the ocean. "Why all this? The padded waiting room, and now. . ." He
furrowed his brow, unsure of the attractive brunette's position. ". . . a
counselor's officer, I assume? Why?"
"The experience was quite traumatic, and the doctor who touched you up
recommended a counseling session." She smiled a little at him, feeling
strangely drawn by his eyes. They were compassionate, and warm. Large,
full, and bright, despite their darker coloring. In those eyes she could see
that such a man never belonged in the ruthless intelligence business, and it
was this that she used to justify her actions.

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"I'd like to see a full medical report on my injuries and treatment,
please." Terry cocked her head to the side. He was smart, too. She was
instantly aware that she was grateful for the aid the Intelligence operatives
had given in creating files to explain the existence and past of this man.
It wouldn't be easy to convince him herself, that was certain, and somehow
she knew that Robert would want hard evidence to confirm that which he did
not remember. Memories may be erased, even changed, but
the personality traits of an individual cannot be altered with medical
microsurgery and electromagnetic pulse techniques. No, Robert Mason would be
the same person, in effect, he was. He would just be unaware of who that
person was until he could find himself again. Find his new self, that is.
She reminded herself again that she was protecting such a compassionate
man from intelligence as he met her eyes. She gazed back into his eyes in
return. And at once she found herself lost there. How many years had it
been since her last encounter on an intimate level? Too many, she assured
herself. But patients were always out of bounds, off limits. Or rather,
they had been in the past. But why change what worked? And so far she
hadn't had any problems with the philosophy of not becoming
intimate with those one counsels. But working ease and the absence of
problems hadn't exactly made her happy. . . .

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"Counselor?" Robert looked at her in an expression of naive curiosity.

"Oh, yes." Terry pulled back out of his eyes, and out of her thoughts,
thinking hard about what it is he had asked her before she had launched into
a reverie of--
"The medical report?"
That was it. "Oh, right." Had she sounded moronic? Losing her
thoughts like that? She figured it was best to conceal it. "You'll get it
when you leave here, Robert."
Oh, Okay, thought Mason. Now that the obvious was out of the way, he had
other things to concentrate on. Like who he was. A rush of memory entered
his mind all at once, with such intensity he had to lower his head, close his
eyes, and will away the images. But all wouldn't be willed away like in the
plotline of some silly fairy tale in which the hero was granted three wishes
and . . . .

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* * *

. . . . and the sun shone brightly across
the rolling meadow, almost blinding the boy as he looked into the summer sky
and beheld the white, fluffy clouds in all their majesty. The purple
flowered weeds that grew shoulder high in the summer months swayed gently in
the breeze and the boy wondered what it would be like to fly, to fly amongst
the clouds, the sky, and the stars. Pout quelq'uns, les etoiles sont les
rires. . . . Pour les voyagers, ils sont des guides.
Pour mon businessman, les etoiles sont d'or, quels brillent dans la nuit. .
. . The lines were from the most famous children’s (and adults'?) novel ever
written: Le Petit Prince. The boy could remember sometimes pretending to be
the celestial traveler, deposited on earth to endure suffering, pain, sorrow,
joy, and happiness all at once. When he was the little prince, all was
right. And all was right this fine summer afternoon with the tall, grasslike
weeds bending in the gentle wind (but never
breaking) and with the midday sun shining brightly overhead while the clouds
move slowly yet swiftly across the bright, blue sky. As far back as little
Robert Mason could remember he had been alone in his childish dreams, alone
in his aspirations, alone in his mind's eye, wondering. There were no others
like him, for little Robert Mason was different. He was much different, yes,
he was alone.

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The pain of the realization hit him and he slumped down into the tall
weeds, hiding. Hiding from all that would see him in his field of dreams,
hiding from the pain of loneliness, and hiding from himself. He crouched
down into the lower portions of the grass and curled up into a ball,
protecting himself. There would come a time, he told himself, he VOWED, that
he would not be alone, and there would come a time when he wouldn't have to
hide in the tall grasses of the meadows of earth to escape,
and there would come a time when he would be able to trust those close to
him without the incessant fear, and worry, of betrayal.
But what could he do?
What could a small boy of the age of seven really do?
There were others who were lonely?
A small ladybug took flight from one of the grass blades and landed on the
back of Robert's hand. He watched the beetle labor up the incline of his
knuckles and perch on his index finger, looking about it with a curiosity
matched only with the wonder within Robert's soul. Was it true that you can
tell how old these are if you count the spots on their backs? Surely it was
just a myth, the small boy thought. Surely nothing like that could indicate
a thing's age.
Or were these spots like the experiences and pangs of agony we go
through during life?

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Can a person be judged simply by his past experiences, pain,
sorrow, and joy?
Little Robert Mason knew not of these philosophical questions. But he
did know one thing, and that one thing served only as a reminder of the void,
filled with that which he did not know, understand, or grasp. But that one
thing also became the center of his world, and he was going to find out more
about it.
He was going to find out how to help people who could not help
themselves.
He was going to find out how to heal.

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Ensign Lyra Zandalie`
Personal Log, SD 9704.17
USS Potemkin

Computer open personal log SD 9704.17
Computer> Log opened and recording.

Today was my first shift aboard the Potemkin. Everyone seems really nice and
Mason has done a lot in the last week to help me become familar with the
ship. I am going to me in Medical and in Science. It will take me awhile to
get used to things but I am sure that within in a few weeks it will feel like
home. * I hope*

I miss my family very much. I did talk to my mother yesterday and she says
that everything is doing fine. I can't wait until I get to go home on leave.
It feels like forever since I have been on Betazed. My mother says that my
siblings are doing fine in school and that they are doing really well
otherwise also. Celestine has decided that when she is old enough that she
too wants to join starfleet. Her and I are so much alike that it is scary
sometimes. She will do fine in Starfleet. It is getting
late so I am going to go to bed.

Computer close save and send log.
Computer> Log closed saved and sent.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chief Sceince Officer
Lt. Arisah Raptor
USS Potemkin - 21:40
Personal Log - 04229.7
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raptor woke up slowly to find a kitten snoozing on her snout. Reluctant to
disturb the little fuzzball, she shuts her eyes again and simply thinks for a
while. Ever since her new asisstant came on board, her life had been easier.
Ens Lyra was doing a superb job handling all the paperwork, filing reports,
etc. She felt Lyra would be a good and welcome addition to the ship and
especially the science department.
The lieutenants' stomach rumbled and the kitten shot off, out of sight, in
what had to have been under a second. Arisah clambered out of the concave
nest/bed. (she really had tried a standard Federation bed for a while, but
it wreaked havok on her back). Running through a stretching process that
would put most housecats to shame, she contemplated the days' schedule.
Her breakfast of tribble and spam burritos was interupted by a chirp from
the computer - new mail was in. One of them, from home, was marked 'urgent'.
Arisah quickly called up the letter, scanning it. She smiled and re-read
the letter slower. It seemed her best friend, Deseera, had an oppurtunity to
go to Earth, and took it. Des had not yet been accepted into the academy,
but her trip would be a grand learning experiance. It lookes as if her
friend would soon be an.. 'exchange student' for a little while. Raptor
immediately felt amusement and apprihension for the human or alien that would
go back to Ru as part of the exchange.
Happy for Des, Arisah ordered a big box of chocolates to be sent to Des'
quarters on Earth, as well as a small replica of the Potemkin sent. Glancing
at the chrono, Raptor growled and quickly dressed (that is, throwing on her
collar and harness). On her way out the door, she grabbed a cajun-spiced
tribble and munched on her way to work.

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::Warp is in the holodeck playing around with a new whitewater program he
recently wrote::
YES!! ::The whitewater canoe jumps off a 5-foot class IV rapid::
::Warp flies out of the canoe and lands in the water::
{{{Feet downstream, don't stand up}}}
{{{I can't do that, don't want to be killed today}}}
::Warp sees a hydraulic ahead::
OH SHI*!!!!!
Computer, freeze program!!!!!!!!!
::Program freezes::
Phew!! ::Wipes forhead::
That was fun, but, I don't like being ejected.
Computer, save as Warp's Whitewater program, saved trip 2, black river,
Arizona.
Please close now computer.
::Holodeck appears, a huge cubical room with yellow quadrilaterals plastering
the walls::
Well, I might as well dry off. Computer, towel.
::Towel appears, I dry off::
::As I walk out of the room, I think about running the upper Salt River
tomorrow::
Hmmm, well, that's pretty easy. I might as well start at "Mescal" and go down
to the waterfall.
::An ensign looks at me bewilderedly, wondering what I'm doing with a
wetsuit, splash jacket, a paddle and a helmet on::
{{{Hey, what's wrong with this???}}}
::Enters quarters, changes::
Computer, begin personal log.
COMPUTER>Recording. Time index, 0.0.
Personal log, stardate 9704.28. I have been wondering what is going on with
these murders, and having a little entertainment to pre-occupy my
already-confused mind. I have run the black river in north arizona, and am
planning on running the upper salt river tomorrow. I have been thinking, and
plan on getting a cat. I will try to keep Tasha away from the cat, or at
least train her that the cat is NOT a meal, but it is a FELLOW PET. I don't
want any carnage in MY quarters. I have had enough trouble with
hot sauce and rare fish. Tasha likes to think with her stomach, not her
brain. I think that a cat and Tasha would have trouble together. Well, I have
been thinking about contacting my parents tonight, maybe to even take a leave
to earth soon. I like Phoenix, which is nice now, not as hot as usual. I have
also been planning to meet my friend, Ensign Lodestone soon. My latest
progress in communications has been a 5-minute transmission, that was sent
about 2 months ago. I still haven't gotten a response. I
think that maybe, although just maybe, I could get a ship from SB Horizon
and go to earth. I haven't gone on a private runabout mission in months,
maybe even a year now. I also am planning on contacting my grandparents on
earth in Atlanta, on earth. I talked to them a little more recently, about 3
weeks ago. As for my logs, I think I will write more that I usually do. I
hope to get a high log award before I end up being transferred, as has
everyone else. Clewan, Witt, Badon, Shodan, all transferred to
other ships. Actually, now that I think about it, someone I never even did
ONE mission under, Admiral Mondox, left too. I think she's on Excelsior now.
I have been working on some new designs for a starship, and may send the
specifications to Admiral Clements if I ever finish it. I am hoping to name
it within the next few weeks, possibly, I may name it Salado class. Anyways,
I must get to duty. End Log.

COMPUTER> Log Ended.
::Warp goes over to his desk and begins jotting down notes for a small
endeavor soon::

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::Warp leaves his WW rafting program::
Phew, that was good.
::Warp enters his quarters::
Computer, begin Personal log.
COMPUTER> Recording.
Warp's log, SD 9704.29. I have been running the whitewater program again.
during a run, I noticed an itching sensation along the sides of my head,
neck, and on my shoulders. I believe I may be getting some sort of skin
aggravation. I am planning on visiting the doctor in 2 days, for my schedule
is quite hectic now. I think that my designs will be complete in a few
months, and hope to get them to the Admiral then. My Dog has developed a
strange hunger for replicated carrots. I was eating some one night,
and I left the table for a minute. When I came back, the carrots were gone.
I replicated more, and the dog begged and begged, until I couldn't help it. I
had to give her some carrots. This morning, I found her by the replicator. I
got some carrots, and she ate them all immediately. The dog does eat strange
things, but I have never seen a dog eat carrots. The mysterious dissapearance
of Jackie is still heavy on my mind. I can't seem to figure it out. One week
she's here, the next she's not. Then, I think
about the mysterious appearance and dissapearance of Captain Shodan. Maybe
they have a connection, because a subspace transporter could do that. I think
that the murder was commited by someone with a medical tricorder, for those
can retrieve medical profiles. They can also emmit certain signals, fooling
sensors. I believe I can re-construct the tricorder emmisions, possibly
disquising myself as Shodan, at least to the sensors. It is quite similar to
my mini-cloaking device. It fools sensors with false
emisions. The tricorders can emulate anything from a gas to radio
interferance. That could be the solution to our problem. As for Jackie, maybe
these are connected, maybe not. I can only hope that Jackie will return. The
mystery shrouding the murders and computer problems cannot be fully
explained, although I believe the computer was infected with a "Smart Virus".
A virus that seeks out certain systems before randomly destroying other areas
of the computer. The sensor malfunction, on the other hand, may
have nothing to do with this. I think that we may have been infiltrated in
some way though. Possibly a shapeshifter wanting to destroy one of the most
powerful ships in the Federation, as well as the most advanced starbase ever
created by Starfleet, or any known creatures. The mysterious accidents, the
malfunctions, the deaths, what do they mean?? I hope to discover this as
quickly as possible.
End log.
COMPUTER> Stopped.

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Joint Log
Mason § Raptor

Arisah yanked yet another PADD out of a pile and began plowing through it.
It seemed the work would never cease. She sat in a far corner of
ten-forward, a spicy looking drink sat mostly untouched at her elbow. Just
to her left, a ground beef dish, sans tribble flavor, cooled. Though she
seldom came to this part of the ship, some inexplicable urge sent her here.
Maybe it was the loneliness, the lack of fellow Ru to talk to. Or maybe it
was simply a means of escape. But she couldn't help thinking
self conscious as the numerous crewmembers shuffled by her table running
through their idle chitchat and not bothering to greet her.
Just as the waiter was about to approach her table, Arisah yawned
widely, rows of white teeth gleaming. She stretched thoroughly, her taut
muscles flexing and relaxing under her skin, all the while fully extending
and retracting her claws several times. Sighing in relief, she hunched over
the pile with renewed strength. The waiter was no where in sight. Raptor
shrugged and glanced upward as a shadow dominated her peripheral vision.
The Doctor, a human handsome by even Ru standards, smiled down at her
slyly. She smiled back widely, keeping her teeth hidden. Mason gestured to
the opposite chair. "May I?"
Arisah nodded. "Of course, Robert, I'm always happy to share a kill--
uhm. . . sorry, what is that word? 'Chat' with you. What brings you out
here this time of night?" She cocked her head to the side as he took a seat
opposite the dinosauroid, her face an image of inquiry.
"I felt like escaping from work for a while. We've got facts and givens,
but no real evidence here, save the transporter traces, algorithm trails, and
autopsy reports." He sighed, not knowing quite what to make of the whole
mission.
The brownish figure across the table bobbed her head, tapping her claws
on the surface of the table and rattling the dish slightly. She was
hesitant; she didn't want to make any conclusions now, at this stage of the
mission. There was too little to go on.
Arisah lifted her head. "Although the tricorders detected nothing, I,
myself noticed something unusual. Though I trust my sight first, I do not
dismiss my sense of smell. And I can tell you, it was like nothing I have
previously had contact with. True, I haven't the opportunity to meet a
shape-shifter, but it seemed.. alien. As if it did not belong in this part of
the universe at all. I'm afraid I can't be more specific, and I'm nearly out
of ideas." she sighed.
"I do, however, have a theory."

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"I thought you might." Raptor offered the Ru equivalent of a smile,
grasping a few fingerfulls of the browned meat with her 'fingers' and opposed
thumb of her left paw.
"I'm leaning towards a changeling infiltration at the moment; possibly
more than one. The failures to the ship's systems can be explained, as Warp
has stated, by a nanite-virus of some sort. Any said computer virus would
give the murderer--probably a changeling--much more freedom. Taking internal
sensors off-line would be a major plus, also; your last estimate of repairs
for the sensors was what again?"
"I can't begin repairs until I know where this virus is, what it does,
and how to stop it." she stopped a moment to hiss softly at a stray PADD with
a few lines on it. The scare notes were apparently all she had to go on, so
far.
"Then the first priority of the engineering team should be to isolate
the virus and determine how to restore the ship's systems."
"And what about the murderer?" Arisah's eye crests drew together a bit.
"Perhaps with internal sensors on-line, he or she will be a bit easier
to track; however, as I'm convinced it's a changeling, I'll recommend to the
Commander that Security teams be deployed throughout the Potemkin with
phasers; the beams should be calibrated so that the energy will force the
changeling to revert back to gelatinous form, but won't damage any of the
computer equipment. In the mean time, I'll take periodic blood samples from
the crew; hopefully we'll be able to find it soon, before
anyone else meets the grim reaper. . . ." He trailed off, Raptor looking
up, her brow furrowed. No doubt she didn't understand the 'grim reaper'.
Mason dismissed it with a wave of his hand, and clarified: "Before anyone
else dies."
The Lieutenant sat back and folded her lanky arms across her chest,
silent for a moment, watching the bright points of light outside the ship.
Turning back to Robert, she said, "Thinking of all this while you're supposed
to be off duty?" She smiled mysteriously. "You still haven't answered my
question. What's the real reason you're here?"
"I wanted the company of a lovely female," he said, hailing a waiter
who, in a few moments, brought him a mug of hot chocolate.
Raptor nodded, oblivious, and turned back to her work. "Find anyone
that interests you?"
Mason leaned back slightly and crossed his legs, placing his left ankle
on his right knee, taking a casual pose and leaning back in the chair. He
seemed to know the best non-challenging stance to take when talking to a Ru.
In a vaguely husky voice, he said, "As a matter of fact, I think I have." He
looked into her eyes.
It took a full three seconds for Arisah to realize he was talking about
her. Flattered and amazed, she stared at him. "Doctor? Are you. . .
feeling all right?" He sipped the cocoa and replaced the mug bearing the
Starfleet parabola on the table.

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"I'm fine." He reached over and took her hand in his. Limp, she didn't
even protest at all. There was something in Mason's eyes that, at the same
time, exhilarated and frightened her. She took several breaths, sorting this
new information. Don't panic. He is human, and humans are known to error.
Her throat went dry and she examined him closely, as if for the first time.
Mason smiled again, making his handsome--for a human, she reminded
herself--features brighten. "Nothing's wrong at all,
Arisah. I'm feeling wonderful, more so because I'm in your company. Since
we've become good friends, I've wanted to get to know you a little bit
better. Would you be willing to tell me more about yourself over dinner
sometime. . .soon?"
Raptor's head cleared a bit and she smelled him, tasting the way Robert
was now from the other ways she'd known him. He certainly seemed sincere.
Briefly, she wondered if he would stay with her if he knew what was required.
No human had ever approached her like this before, and from her few
relationships back on Ru, she had no idea what to expect, save the usual male
attitude. She was indeed interested, just shocked about the whole thing.
But, if they were to have any chance together, she would
have to tell him everything, up front.
Taking a chance, she said, "Then you know of the sacrifice required?"
But she knew that once she told him, any hope of a pairing would be
impossible, especially with this human.
Now softly stroking her hand, and without missing a beat, he said
"Nothing would be too much to lose for you." He was pushing it now.
Thinking about whether or not it was even possible to survive. . . . mating
with a dinosaur, he shivered inwardly, making a mental note to place self
preservation above lust next time.
She nodded solemnly and looked at him. "Very well. But you should know
that if any relationship becomes serious, say, to the point of mating or
marriage, males are castrated once a said number of children are born.
However, since there would be no young from a marriage of a Ru and Human, the
act would be required almost immediately."
Mason visibly paled, and half out of jest, and half out of concealment of
fear, he stammered, "Really? You're kidding, aren't you?"
She shook her head, knowing that she had already lost him as a potential
mate. "Not at all. This, on my world, ensures that the husbands never cheat
on their mates. Not that any female would have a bonded male.
Unfortunately, this doesn't always work, so if the wife catches him cheating,
she is, by her right, permitted, and often required, to kill him." Of
course, no Ru had actually killed her mate in over a thousand years, but she
neglected to mention that little detail.

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The doctor now had a little more color in his cheeks, but his hand,
still holding hers, released a bit of pressure; it now gingerly patted the
back of her hand. Regaining his composure within a few more seconds, he
sighed and asked, "I guess this means your people believe in abstinence too,
right?"
Arisah smiled at him, amused. "Actually, no, we don't, but if two Ru are
willing to mate, then they usually are also willing to marry. I've known
very few in my time who have had a lover before they met another Ru and
bonded. If they have, it was because their previous mate died in an
accident."
Mason frowned. "But what about the women? I suppose they get to keep
their ovaries," he stated sarcastically, probably more so than he wanted.
She nodded her head, missing the sarcasm. "It's simply not necessary to
remove the female reproductive organs. Besides, once you are bonded, you can
never, ever take another mate. Our vows are not 'till death do us part', or
some equally hollow promise, or promises. It's 'through life and death do we
make this sacred bond'. Though males, sadly, have been known to break it.
In our entire known history, a female has never cheated on her mate."
Mason looked at her in awe for a moment, then his smile returned.
"Well, on my world, relationships are far less prejudice; both parties are
equal, in all respects. Both participants have the free will to choose their
partners according to their own will, and those free decisions are not
hindered, or limited, in any way, by the removal of reproductive organs. If
there comes a time when the Ru philosophy becomes foreign to you, hurtful, or
confusing, you could always defect." Robert gave her a
warm smile, and she almost drew in a quick breath out of surprise, and
excitement. "And if that time comes, just remember that we humans have
managed to endure for centuries on such ideals. And if you ever want to have
a little fun, Suite 426-A is always open to you. You know that." He winked
at her. "Or, if you ever need or want to talk, the same holds true. I'll
listen." His eyes met hers warmly, and they both smiled, although Arisah to
less of an extreme.
"That's nice to know, Robert."
"Oh. One more thing. Just because human relationships might be more
transient by Ru standards, it doesn't mean they're any less important,
joyful, and stimulating. Emotionally, intellectually, and physically."
Arisah ducked her head a bit and blinked. For the first time, she
wondered if a Human-Ru pairing was even possible. She dismissed the thought
as product of too much work and no Ru in sight. She also wondered why Robert
was even interested in her, as a mate. Offclaw, she couldn't think of a
thing she had in common with humanoid females. She wondered if it was her
own pheromones affecting the Doctor, or perhaps. . . . If he was sincere. .
. .

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They talked a bit longer, then Mason yawned and departed. She watched
him retreat, attempting and failing to compare him to a male of her own
species. The lack of a tail and soft skin bothered her a little, but
apparently her claws and other features did not deter him in the least.
Having roomed with a Bajoran, she knew a little about humanoid courting.
Her Bajoran friend had a mate, at times, and at others, loudly proclaimed the
uselessness and irritating nature of males. Raptor did know enough that any
attempt at a. . .kiss would be a miserable failure. Ru lips were just not
suited to that sort of task. She shook her head, wondering, not yet sure of
this new development.

Joint Log
Mason § Raptor

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I have been wondering what could possibly be wrong with me. I have been
feeling very queasy recently, as though my stomach is moving itself around my
body. It has occupied my mind fully, not even allowing me to think about the
mysterious dissapearance of Jackie. I can't help but be worried about what is
happening to me. Is it some virus, or is it a natural thing. Being 3 species
all rolled into one, it is hard to tell. My Vulcan logic (Which dwindles at
times) tells me that I should explore all
possibilities. My El-Aurian listening instinct tells me to listen, and I
will find what I need. My Human part is impatient, and wants the answer now.
Having 3 species inside of me is quite hard to deal with at times. I am
telepathic, although the recent phaser his in my leg and back has shorted it
out. My comm badge, destroyed. I am feeling very odd with my inventions being
discovered, one by one. The recent mission gave me no time to think. I was at
first, complaining of queasyness. Then, came the hull
breech. I couldn't get the TRs active, and somehow, Frank and his team were
teleported to the bridge. Frank was hit with a phaser blast in the back,
while the back of my leg was seared. We went into the sickbay, which had it's
"Interesting" touches, and there, we were all shot, except for the people who
weren't wearing any clothes. I wish I wasn't, although I wouldn't want to be
humanoid if so. That would be embarrasing. As I thought we were done for,
with Tamara dying, Frank unconcious, Shodan not
getting dressed for fear of getting shot, and myself unable to do more than
telepathically communicate with the concious crew, until I was later able to
stand, with help. As I lay there, helpless, I realized that life is precious,
and not to waste it. My thoughts turned to my childhood on Earth. Thinking
about my first crush, my first date, and even when when my sister was born.
My thoughts then turned to the immediate situation. I was thinking about
interlinking with the computer through my computer
access device built into my telepathy device, which, both must be rebuilt.
The phaser shot actually damaged it, not destroyed it. The constant use under
which it was under, and the hyposprays of "Revival Juice" unfortunately
damaged it further. It will take me several weeks to fix my destroyed or
damaged inventions. When I finally got onto the biobed in sickbay, I began
thinking about my queasyness and the immenent rash on my head, neck and
shoulders. I still wonder what happened. My body seems to be in
a state of flux, almost re-configuring to another molecular structure,
almost another species. If my guess is right, the "Rash" is developing in the
exact place that the Trill have their "spots". If I didn't know better, I
would seriously think that I am a Trill. I don't really feel like hosting a
symbient being right now, so, if I am becoming a Trill, I hope my species
changes again. No offense to shodan, but I think that being a Trill would be
very double-sided. Your knowledge with the symbient
being's knowledge, all crammed together. You wouldn't be the same person
once you were joined. I am planning on asking the Doctor what he thinks, and,
as for these EXTENSIVE logs, I don't know if anyone will read this long of a
log. If anyone is reading this part, E-Mail me. That way, I will know my
effort doesn't go to waste. I recently scanned myself with a medical
tricorder, finding that my organs appeared to be in a disgruntled state, and
that my face, neck and shoulders did indeed seem to be
developing a rash, that was darker in spots than others. Maybe I am a Trill,
and my molecular structure was altered, and is restoring itself. Maybe my
body has the power to change it's makeup, and I haven't discovered it yet. I
can't help wondering, what will happen next?

[Return to Archives | Return to Listing ]

::enters quarters and begins unpacking::
Computer, open a personal log for Ens Bjorn Vuelvas.
::log open::
Well I have arrived at long last on the Potemkin. It was not quite like I
expected but it should all work out in the end. They seem to have formed
tight knit cliques which is good but also a little intimidating to those who
don't yet fit into the cliques.
Today I tried to locate the replimat and ended up in the stellar cartography
lab. Next time I'll ask the computer for a map.

::END LOG::

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::enters quartes and flops onto his bed::
Computer open personal log

::log open::
Well, this is just great. All of my holodeck programs and my customized
replicator programs, were lost in the transit to the Potemkin. According to
the copmputer's logs it never recieved the files. I called Starbase 117 on
ssub-space and they said that they had already erased my files.
ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Princess is a very finicky dog and she will only eat canine supplement
Bjorn # 56 on Mondays, no other variety will do. I don't remeber what the
formula was. so now my poor dog is starving. Perhaps the docotr can giver an
IV so they at least she'll still get her daily nutrients.

::END LOG::

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Personal log for Visiting Guest Officer Shodan
Stardate 9705.06
Begin Personal Log
Well, Putty and I have been engaged for quite some time now. I wonder when
we will set a wedding date? I hope soon. I'd like to be married within a
month. I have plans. These plans most definitely include children. I want
to have more children. I adore children. I currently have three (triplets,
aged eight). I would just love to have more. Torias (Tory) still wants to
grow up to be just like Captain Putty. Only Tory won't call him Captain.
Tory has a pet name for him, which I don't think I'll
reveal in this log. In fact, I don't think I'll tell anyone, unless they
beg and plead a lot. and by "a lot" I certainly do mean a great deal. I
won't embarrass my fiancT for mere simple pleading. It has to be all out
groveling.

But getting back to the children. I was extremely disappointed, not to
mention even greatly saddened, that Guest Visiting Fabulous Medical Doctor
Tamara The Incomparable was unable to finish her exam of me. The reason why
she was not able to finish her exam fills me with tears. Whenever I think of
why she couldn't finish her exam, I cry. Tears come out of my eyes like rain
on a spring day. Not only have I lost a dear, and true, friend, but, I shall
never find out her fertility recommendations. I
want to have children! I do so long to have another baby. ::big sigh::
Also, it sure would be nice to talk to my cherished friend again (the
aforementioned Guest Visiting Fabulous Medical Doctor Tamara The
Incomparable). But, alas, I never again shall. BOO HOOO! Her untimely
death has had a profoundly melancholy affect on me. ::sob, sob:: And it was
all that the fault of that *thing* (the "unknown creature" and "concealed
antagonist" that was mentioned in my Visiting Guest Officer Duty Log).
That rotten thing! That hideous, horrid, foul, hateful, disgusting,
offensive what-ever-it-was. I am so filled with grief. However, I know that
my beloved Putty will be able to heal my heart, and life will continue. I
guess I shall go see him now.
End Personal Log

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::enters quarters::
Computer open personal log

::log open::

I have began to meditate oon the events of last weeks mission. I realized
that I have to endeavour to find some kind of balance. I have to find my nich
in the crowd. This is going to be no small task.
I have had basic command theory classes at the academy so I feel that if
I am supposed to lead my self and my security/tactical division, I am ready
to do so. But..... I am only an Ensign and ensigns rarely have vast
discretionary authority. You do I report to other than the Capt.
Well, when I figure this out I believe I am going to ask permission to
write an New Crew Member's Guide to Life on the USS Potemkin. I think that
this would help people quite a little bit.

::END LOG::

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~Chief Science Officer
Lt. Arisah Raptor
USS Potemkin 11:15
Personal Log 05089.7~

Curled up in a chair, holding one of her two kittens and with the lights
turned down to dim, Arisah is deep in thought.

"Begin Log: (pause) I feel as if I should talk to the ships counselor
about something, but I don't know. I may just talk to counselor Troi, in the
holodeck. She, at least would be a hologram and I'd feel a bit safer. On
the otherclaw, I haven't been to see any counselors in a long while, they
make me slightly nervous. My father always told me that what ever the
problem was, if it could not be worked out in a fight, it wasn't worth
worrying about. That usually worked for the males fine, but my
problem isn't an arguement over who gets the bath first. Mine is much more
sensitive than anything I've had to deal with in my time serving here.
"I'd almost like to talk to Captain Shodan, since she is a good friend,
but she is no doubt busy with bonding.. er, marriage plans. I'd rather not
burden her, anyway. (sighs) Well, I could try to deal with the problem
myself, but that could be disasterous. For now, I think I will put it in
words, in this log, to see if I gain any insights by hearing my own words and
wording'
"Some time last week, Mason approached me and expressed an interest in..
what is that human phrase? 'going out'. He didn't word it quite like that,
but he is interested in me. I'm exremely nervous. No human has ever come to
me like this. Some wanted to become friends, others just plain insulted me
and my nature. I just don't know what to do. If I accept his overtures, I
would be turning my back on even more of my culture than I have already.
Mason doesn't seem to believe in a long-lasting
relationship, nor does he seem to apprciate my own morals on this. On my
homeworld, two Ru would never.. mate unless it looked as if they'd be
together for life. Quite a few do, in fact wait until marriage.'
Arisah shakes her head. "I am also unsure wether or not he is sincere. he
seems so, but we are so different from each other.. I don't know. I'm giving
myself a headache. End Log.'

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In his dimly lit quarters, Lieutenant Warp was feeling nauseated. He
had gone over the situation countless times, trying to rationalize the way
his body felt, blaming it on the phaser blows, stress, work, even Frank. But
he still couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't right. It
felt like someone was pushing his innards around, contorting them,
manipulating them. And he didn't like it one bit. He took a sip of the
beverage he had replicated earlier; even food tasted a little off,
and it wasn't due to the replicator's pseudo-cuisine this time. He rolled
the liquid on his tongue to find a flavor there; he found only bitterness.
And the throbbing in his head wasn't stopping, either. In fact, it became
more intense with each passing moment. Once again, he felt those three sides
of him warring within, struggling for dominance, for the right to be heard.
His mother had been El Aurian, his father half Vulcan, and half Human.
And he could almost feel those who had raised him inside him now, their
origins feuding like three volatile, water-reactant chemicals trapped within
a glass carafe, sealed with a cover, confined.
Inside his head, visions of his parents danced before him, his mother's
appearance, his father's courage and dedication, his devotion to logic. The
holidays by the fireplace at the country home on Earth, the trips to Vulcan,
and to the Galaxy's Most Celebrated Cultures museum on Betazed to learn more
about El Auria...
When the First Lieutenant could stand the sensations within him no
longer, he tapped his communicator anxiously. "Warp to Sickbay. . . ." Warp
itched his face, waiting for a response. He didn't wait long.
"Sickbay; Mason here. Go ahead, Warp," came the Doctor's voice over the
comm system, nearly clear as crystal.
"Doctor, is it all right if I come down there to see you?" He replaced
his beverage on the coffee table and stood, walking out from the center of
the furniture cluster, and approaching the kitchen's island-counter.

* * *

"Is everything all right, Lieutenant?" Doctor Mason crossed the main
intensive-care ward and received a report from a medical technician, the
concern for Warp on his face showing. The technician furrowed her brow, and
looked up at Mason, a question mark visible on her face. The Chief Medical
Officer nodded, indicating she take her leave of him; as she exited the ward,
Mason turned in the opposite direction, making sure the communication to Warp
would stay as covert as possible.
"I don't know, Doctor."

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Mason nodded, entering the surgical suite, where his last patient still
sat on the biobed, awaiting his dismissal from sickbay. Robert held up a
finger, and mouthed the words 'One minute,' smiling. He returned his
concentration to the communication. "Okay, Lieutenant. Come on down; I'll
take some more scans, and I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you, Doctor. Warp out."
Mason smiled a little as the communications channel closed, turning back
to the Ensign on the biobed, and inwardly grew philosophical. He hadn't seen
a case of HIV since his posting on the Trieste, three years ago. It was
rare, indeed, especially when each officer was given standard protection
injections to prevent any known diseases transmitted by contact. "I'd like
to see you back in 48 hours, Ensign. Just to make sure all the virus is
destroyed; after that, you're free. Just be a little more
careful next time. Tell your partner the same; she's due in later tonight
for the final phase of her immuno-therapy."
"No one else has to know about this, right, Doctor? I mean, Brittany
and I aren't really common knowledge, and--"
"No one but my AMO and I will know, Ensign, and the files pertaining to
your situation, will, as always, be secured with level one medical
authorization."
The thin officer nodded, and departed the ward, the double doors opening
for him as Warp entered. Robert saw him, and smiled. Exiting the surgical
suite and calling Warp over, the doctor touched a panel to the side of the
suite alcove, erecting a forcefield around the suite. He tapped the touchpad
again, and a wide, blue, energy beam swept over the surfaces in the suite,
creating a sanitary environment for the next patient. When the beam had
covered the biobed, consoles, and floors, Mason
released the forcefield, and gestured for Warp to enter the room. Once both
inside, Robert dropped a tinted separator in between the ICU and the Surgical
Suite, effectively giving Warp the privacy he probably wanted, and Robert the
environment for excessive concentration.
"Hello, Doctor," said Warp as he crossed the room, leaning against the
nearest console.
"Hi, Warp." Mason smiled slightly. "I suspect the nausea, headaches,
and other symptoms are back?"
"Unfortunately, yes. And the phaser burns are itching like crazy."
Warp struggled not to scratch at them, as he knew he'd just get a scolding
from the doctor for that. Breaking scabs intentionally was frowned upon in
the medical community, he mused. Warp returned his focus to the doctor, who
was now passing the cylindrical scanner device over his burns, his face
intent on the miniature tricorder display.

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"Well, let's deal with that first, shall we?" Robert said, his face
radiating professionalism and concentration. "They're healing nicely,
Lieutenant. You can see me again tomorrow for the final phase of treatment.
I don't want to push my luck; healing the infected areas now with
conventional means might conflict with some of the medication I gave you for
the nausea." He looked to Warp; he nodded, and Mason reached to the side of
the bed, opening a small cabinet. Withdrawing a vial of medicine
and a topical hypospray, he returned to the biobed and triggered the
medicine; the aquamarine colored gel dispersed over the burn area and
diffused into the epidermis. He scanned the diffusion rate and languid
regeneration data which popped up on the small tricorder screen.
"Now for this other, more intriguing condition of yours. . . ." The
doctor turned to a nearby, waist-high console and tapped the surface. Above
Warp's head, the cylindrical scanner hummed to life, emitting small beeps,
its tiny diagnostic lights flashing sporadically. He increased the sensor
output and scanning differential with a touch of his finger to the interface
screen. Warp wondered what the results would be.
Mason frowned, resulting in an inquisition. "What is it? Do you see
something? What's wrong?"
Robert tried to feign patience as he spoke: "Don't know yet. . . ." His
eyes were on the console to his right, his fingers constantly adjusting the
sensor beam and probing for more information, deeper scans.
"Okay. Tell me when you know, though." Robert inwardly rolled his
eyes. Of course he'd tell the patient when he knew about the ailment. He
though on some of the most common misconceptions about doctors and sickbays,
and almost sighed. Had he known a single person outside of the medical staff
on a starship who didn't mind spending their time in sickbay? Probably not.
He himself never actually loved going to see Doctor Pulaski when he was
small; were there people in their right minds who, as
patients, liked doctors? Probably not.
"This is interesting. . . ." Robert concentrated on the screen.
Warp looked up and asked, "What is it?"

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"Various organs in your body, your liver, your kidneys, even your heart,
are re-arranging themselves." Robert stared at the locator data scrolling
past the boundaries on the screen of the console. In amazement, he gazed at
the rendered diagram of Warp's body, in which numerous tissue clusters and
organs were out of place.
"What?" Warp stammered; he had never heard of that before. He shifted
uncomfortably in his seat, trying to remain calm, and professional. But it
was so damn hard when receiving such news. "Well, is it serious?"
"I don't know yet, Warp. I don't know what any of this means; I've
never seen it before. You'll need to stay here for a few more hours for
additional tests. If the condition is not immediately threatening, I might
be able to give you medication to calm the symptoms, so you can return to
duty. But we need some more information here. In the mean time, I'll do a
little research. See what I can find out about this, if anything.
Specialist Tyra Gregor will take care of you during your stay, if
that's satisfactory. She's an able technician, and I don't see the
necessity of diverting Lyra to this case at the moment. I would, however,
like to bring her in on the research bit. Sometimes, in the field, the
experience of one other person can make a difference."
Obviously distracted, Warp nodded. "That's fine, but I don't want
anyone else to know right now. Not until I find out what's going on myself,
first."
"Of course, Warp." Robert sat on the biobed beside him and placed a
hand on Warp's shoulder. "I don't want to worry you, Warp, but I think I
should prepare you for the possibilities here. This could be serious; I
don't know yet. Or, it could be harmless, some kind of genetic side effect,
or unforeseen marker from the gene therapy that helped your parents of
different species conceive."
Warp nodded again, his eyes on the biobed, his fingers pulling nervously
on the edge of the bed's cushion. He could smell the sanitized air passing
through the bay, and as another slight breeze of the dry, purified air washed
over him, he wondered exactly what he was doing here, probably seriously ill,
sitting in Sickbay, and waiting for the doctors to come up with an answer.
But until they had one, he could only speculate as to what this was. And the
more speculating he did lately, it seemed the
more anxious he became.
So the decision to lose himself in work, or rather the attempt to do so,
was made rather quickly. "Would you happen to have a spare PADD I could use,
Doctor?"

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"Of course." Robert reached underneath the bed, into a small
compartment, and withdrew a PADD, a light tan colored one, with a hint of
gray within the alloy. He tapped the surface thrice, wiping the unit's
memory into the mail medical database, where the computer stored the
transferred files in default transfer preset directories. Mason handed the
officer in the gold uniform the PADD, glancing at the new addition to his
collar, a solid gold pip. "Oh, I forgot to tell you: congratulations on the
promotion, First Lieutenant."
This produced a small, sad smile from the First Lieutenant assigned to
Operations. Mason spoke again: "You can have a few minutes alone in the
suite, and then I'd like to move you to the research suite adjacent to the
laboratory, if that's all right. I'll tell Try to come get you in about
twenty minutes." He always knew how to make his patients feel welcome, and
unburdensome, Warp mused as the doctor left the suite.
"Computer, open file number 22438749-26 in my personal database, and
display on unit. . ." Warp glanced at the top of the PADD, and stated the
equipment identification number. "Display on unit 027 Sierra, authorization
Warp 236 Omega." The design specifications for the USS Saguaro blinked onto
he screen in a matter of microseconds, and Warp began to access different
subfiles, modifying information and computing figures.
But losing himself in his work didn't offer too much relief. Warp knew
it. The only relief would come when he found out what this was, and how to
deal with it. But for all the uncertainties, Warp knew one thing. Whatever
this was, whatever it turned out to be, he wouldn't let it beat him. Period.

[Return to Archives | Return to Listing ]

Sigma Thirteen is a Joint Log written by First Lieutenant Mason [CMO], and
First Lieutenant Warp [OPS], of the USS Potemkin, NCC-1711-B. The log has
been posted in the Lounge section of the Bulletin Board, as it is a personal
log for both officers, to save time posting twice, and to conserve BB space.

Screen names: FstLtMason
LtWarp

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Begin Personal Log
Stardate 9705.08

Last thursday was a very painful day. Almost everyone was shot in
some part of the body. Of course it was real good of our beloved former XO,
Captain Shodan to stop by. i wonder how the eclipse is doing? Anyway, After a
long hard day of working in engineering and trying to bring back up all
sensors, I plan to take a little trip to the holodeck and enjoy swimming on a
beach. That or strapping myself back inside a nascar and racing. I haven't
done that in a while.

Right now I am currently in my quarters, drinking some vodka and
thrwoing a ball around nd having my dog cath it. What fun! I have been
thinking about returning to guitar playing. Something which I haven't done in
a while. Quit fun if you have a partner playing with you actually. back in my
youth on El Auria, where life was the way it was on earth 300 years ago,
there was a band called MetallicA, and my friend and I started a band and
began playing some of there songs. We had made some of our
own songs and someone was willing to manage us. However the Borg came, and
now thanks to them my people are scattered across the galaxy. Well thats it
for now. Until the next log.

End Log

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Sela's shuttle departs from the Potemkin smoothly, and the Commander sets
course for Vulcan at Warp 2. She is going to visit her mother on Romulus,
but she must take an indirect route through 12 systems with 5 stopovers
beginning on Vulcan. At each stop she must transfer transports.
~~I can't, afterall, go walzing into Romulan space in a Federation
shuttle.~~
The shuttle Rigby goes to warp, and Sela sits back and enjoys her long
trek to Vulcan. The stars whiz by as Vuclan harp music plays softly in the
cabin, and Sela sips a cup of decaf Earl Grey tea. She soon slips into
sleep.

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It has been a long journey full of cramped quarters, bad food, and
unfriendly companions. But despite all that, Sela has arrived.
She left her Starfleet uniform behind on Vulcan with the Rigby, and is now
wearing the simple brown robes of the Romulan civilians. Her black hair has
been freshly trimmed to meet Romulan standards, and contact lenses change her
green eyes to black. She blends in with the civilians perfectly.
She moves silently through the busy streets, walking 6 km to the Northern
district of the captital city.
Wandering, backtracking, walking through shadows, Sela reaches her
destination: a dirty alley in the poorer area of the city. At the end of the
alley is a pile of crates. She looks around cautiously to assure she is
alone, then moves the boxes aside. She pounds out a code on the hollow wall.
Her knocks are returned and she pounds the next code. A hidden door slides
open.
There is an armed guard on the other side. The man hands Sela a PADD.
She punches in an acces code, and then firmly pushes her thumb on the screen.
The code and her finger prints are confirmed with a quiet chirp from the
PADD. The man holds a retinal scanner to her eye.
The man places the scanner and the PADD in his pocket and seals the door
shut.
"Welcome Ambassador Sela. This is an unexpected surprise. Please, allow
Jarok here to escort you to the Ambassador, T'Pryn."
The clearly Romulan guard offers Ambassador Sela the Vulcan sign of peace
and motions for her to follow Jarok - a second armed guard who stepped out of
the shadows. Sela hadn't even noticed him.
"Good work, Mr. Jarok," Sela whispers in Romulan. They move down a long,
dark staircase. "I didn't even notice you there."
"Thank you Ambassador," the very young man beams with pride. Sela notices
the boy is no older than 13, and is carrying a Romulan military issue
disruptor, rifle and an assasign's knife.
"Jarok, where did you get that weapon?" She points to the rifle.
"It was stolen in a raid of a nearby military installation."
"And the knife?"
"Made by our blacksmiths. It is important, Ambassador, to protect
ourselves."
Sela says nothing, but considers the boy's answers.
They continue farther down the dark staircase, until they reach a long,
equally dark hall. A guard standing at the base of the stairs steps out and,
seeing Jarok and his obviously important guest, hands them a torch.
Jarok takes it and they keep walking, down the hall, around a corner, and
to a ledge overlooking a huge underground city.
"It has grown since my last visit here," Sela comments.
"That it has, Ambassador," he nods. He begins a slow decend down a
trecherous path. It leads to the main street of the city. "We are a growing
people. Everyday the Romans and their allies gain support."
Sela nods and follows Jarok down the path.
~~The city of Rome has prospered~~
"At least a dozen more buildings have been carved out of the rock. At 3
stories tall each, that can hold approximately 36 families. The artificial
light and power source could no longer sustain the whole of Rome, so a second
generator has been added. Food is being smuggled in on the warship of an
Imperial sympathizer. We have a high-tech security system is in place with
weapons and everything." Jarok says.
"Tell me more about these weapons."
Perhaps I should leave that to Ambassadors Spock and T'Pryn."
"yes, perhaps you should," a voice syas from behind them. There stands
Ambassador Spock.
Jarok stands stiffly in respect for the aging Vuclan. Sela offers the
Vulcan greeting and is given one in return.
"Greetings Sela. Welcome back."
"Thank you Ambassador."
Spock looks at Jarok and relieves him. He bows slightly and leaves.
"It has been a long time Sela."
"That it has. But what with the confusion in the Empire, I thought now
might be a good time to make the Roman's presence known."

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"Perhaps. But first let me take you to your mother and we can have dinner."
Spock begins to walk down the avenue toward a large apartment building. He
leads Sela down some steps to a large door. He rings the chime and the door
slides open.
Spock and Sela stop into an eating area. There is a large metal table in
the center of the room with several chairs around it. On one wall is a
replicator, and on another is a large screen with a computer terminal begeath
it. Two doors are on a thrid wall, presumably leading to a sleeping area and
a bathing room.
Emerging from one door is Sela's mother, the Vulcan Ambassador T'Pryn.
"Greetings Sela," she says. \\//
"Hello Mother," Sela replies. \\// "Ambassador Spock says that I can get
a hot meal here. I would really enjoy it."
"Of course. My home is yours, daughter." T'Pryn orders up Sela a hot
bowl of porrdge and some tea. Sela eats it silently while the two other
Ambassadors wait patiently.
When Sela has finished, T'Pryn asks, "What brings you here to Rome?"
"What with the unrest in the Romulan Empire due to the Jem'Hadar, and the
new Romulan alliance with the Federation, I thought it might be a good idea
to bring out the truth."
Spock and T'Pryn look at eachother skeptically.
"We can't keep the Romans secret forever," she adds.
Again they look at eachother.
"You are right my daughter," T'Pryn says, sitting down. "We have a leak.
Someone has been sending bits of information to the Tal Shiar. They have not
yet revealed our location, at least not that we know of."
"It won't be long before he does. Do we know who it is?"
"Not yet," Spock says as he sits as well. "But we've got the most
qualified tracking him down."
"Who?"
"Hello Sela," a deep voice from behind her says. She turns around to see
a tall man standing in the bedroom doorway.
"J'Lan! My brother." She embraces him. "How are you?"
"I'm wonderful, now that I've seen you." He smiles. They hold eachother
for a moment. Sela steps back, holding his hands in hers.
"You look good J'Lan. Tell me you haven't found a bondmate."
"No, I haven't."
"J'Lan, how can you not find a woman? Especially here on Romulus?"
He shrugs innocently. He wraps her up in a hug again. "How I've missed
you. It has been many months."
"That it has."
They sit and catch up on old news, talking late into the evening- when the
power cells go to 30% opererating power for the night cycle.

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Sela awakens at percisely 06:30 the next morning. The two other
Ambassadors are already awake and at work in the eating/conference room. She
can hear them speaking downstairs. It turns out that the door she thought to
lead to a bathrom actually leads to a staircase to the second floor.
Sela baths and dresses, then leaves her room to go downstairs. She runs
into her brother in the hall.
"Good morning J'Lan."
"Good morning. Sleep well on your slab of a bed?"
Sela thinks back to the ebed she slept on that night- a metal slab that
slides out of the wall with the push of a button. "Well, it's far from the
comfort of a Federation issue bed, but it's great for the back."
J'Lan chuckles and asks, "Are you ready for work?"
"After that bed, I'm ready for anything." She grins. "What kind of work
will we be doing?"
"You're the Ambassador, you tell me."
"Well...I suppose we'll have to find that leak. But since you are the
officer of the V'Shar, you will lead our little trek."
"My Vulcan internal security training does give me the expierience we
need."
"Of course. After our morning meal we'll set out."
J'Lan nods and the head downstairs to breakfast.

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Hours infrnt of a computer console, mmoinitoring coded transmission. Anyone
else would have been bored, but not Sela.
"There," J'Lan point at the screen. "Look at that."
Sela leans in and studies the subspace frequencies her brother singles
out. "It looks just like the last transmission from that location," she
says.
J'Lan shakes his head. "Lookd again. See the dissimilarities between the
areas highlighted in yellow?"
Sela nods. "I'm an engineer. Tell me what that means."
"It means that there was another transmission riding the first one,
concealing it almost entirely. A nice trick, but nothing new." He pushes a
few buttons while Sela waits patiently. "Here it is; the encoded second
transmission."
"Can you decode it?"
"The computer's already working on it. Should be done soon." They sit
and wait.
"Khoi <finished in Romulan>" The computer says.
"Let's hear it."
J'Lan pushes a button and the message begins.
"Admiral, I have more information for you concerning the Romans. I have
not yet determinded their wherabouts, but I do know of a couple new arrivals
at their base; a Comander Sela of the Federation and her brother from Vulcan
internal security. That's right sir, your friend Verin's children. I will
send more information as I find out what's going on."
The message ends and the siblings look at eachother in shock.. Both
simultaneously raise their left eyebrows.
"They know we're here?" J'Lan asks.
"Thaty Admiral knew our father," Sela says slowly, ignoring her brother.
"Well, whatever they know, we have to find them and make sure word doesn't
get out."
"Right. The source of that message is a building in the central
district," Sela says as she reads from the screen.
"Let's go." J'Lan and Sela stand and leave the security of the
underground city of Rome to go to the surface.

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Chief Engineer U.S.S Potemkin
FstLtFrank
Stardate 9705.15
Begin Personal Log

::in quarters listening to old 20th century music classified as
"HEAVY METAL":: Sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight, exit
light, enter night, take my hand, we're off to never never land. ::Frank
stops singing and heads to replicator and orders a small beverage:: A glass
of Milk. ::Replicator makes a glass of milk. Frank picks it up , stops the
music, and sits down next to a table with an ENGINEERING REPORT PADD::
Sensors on-line, life support systems functional, all seems good.
I think i'll head to engineering and check up on things::Frank finishes his
glass and walks out to engineering.::

::Enters engineering:: Hey Lars whats the report?
Lars Ulrich>Hey Frank. Nothing out of the ordinary. all systems are within
acceptable parameters
Thats good. Well thats really all I wanted
Lars>Well then why didn't you just contact me through the comm system?
I felt like taking a walk
Lars> ::Looks up at Frank with a face of wonder and Frank walks out::

::Frank is walking on deck 10 and decides to take a trip to ten
forward.::
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~5 minutes pass~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
::frank enters ten forward and runs into Clewan Eric who is visiting the ship
during his shore leave::
Hey Clewan!
Clewan>Hey Frank, how are things holding up?
Pretty good thanks. How are things back on the Rod?
Clewan>The rod? I can never get over that name. Why can't people call just it
the Roddenberry. Or Clewans ship?
Well Because ROD is easier and It's not your ship yet.
Clewan>Everybody always says that!
Cause everyones smart. Like me!
Clewan>You're not smart
What? Of course I am
Clewan> Oh yeah, well whats that ::points to the window where nothing but
space lies::
What? ::looks into space:: Theres nothing happening.
Clewan> And you think your smart.
Shut Up!
Clewan>::Laughs:: Well I got to get going. My shuttle leaves in 15 minutes.
Ok. See ya soon Clewan
Clewan>Later Frank ::Clewan heads out the door and says out loud::STUPID!
::Turns head swiftly after hearing that::I know you are but what am I?
Clewan> PLAIN OLE STUPID!
Ok shut up. goodbye.
::Clewan walks out and Frank finishes the dinner he ordered. then he heads
back to his quarters to sleep.::

End Log

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::sits in chair petting Princess::
Your my baby puppy aren't you? Yes you are. Your a good little Princess.Yes
your are.
::tries to coax Princess into eating::
ACTION> PRINCESS KNOCKS THE BOWL OF FOOD ACROSS THE FLOOR.

Computer opne personal log.
::log open::
Well Princess still will not eat. I can't remeber the replicator formulas
for her canine supplements. I keep trying but they are not exactly right.
Argh!!!
On a positive note I am becoming more acclimated to the goings on of the
Potemkin. In my free time I have been attending hololectures on security and
tactical operastions so that I can work at 100% efficiency.
I am begining to squeeze my way into the group. Soon I will hav friends and
maybe I can take them to asymphony inf the holodeck. I am preparing to
perform Einei Kleine Nachtmusik by Mozart on the piano. Maybe I could perform
it for everyone.

::End log::

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********BEGIN LOG********
::Warp is sitting in sickbay, working on a report::
::Warp taps on the padd while thinking rapidly::
Hmmm. ::Taps: "Admiral, the Saguaro Class vessel should be the choice of the
fleet when we release one"::
done.

Computer, Begin Log.
COMPUTER> Recording.

This log is just something I'm doing while waiting for the doc to find
something out about my "condition". I have no idea what it is, but, it gave
me plenty of time on the USS Saguaro, my latest project. I have a miniature
model, well, simi-miniature. It's 2 decks tall, and I can work aboard it. It
has 4 engines, all folding like Intrepid Class, and it also has the deflector
systems of one. It has a galaxy-like saucer and engines of a Sovereign class.
The main scanner, however, is a mix of galaxy,
intrepid, sovereign and valiant classes (Valiant=USS Defiant). It will be 39
decks and the warp systems allow for max. velocity of warp 9.996. It will be
extremely powerful, enough weapons even for Brand. My model will achieve warp
4 with no difficulty, and I am working on a saucer separation system. I don't
know when it will be done.

The mission was interesting, the Badlands fun. I liked toying with
plasma mix and shields, as well as holo-warp (You didn't know he was there,
did you? The "distortion sound" was him activating while I cloaked and slid
out of my chair. He became solid when I left the chair. I am working on the
"silent block" to totally silence his activation.

Ensign Lodestone has a bit to learn about the ship. He needs a guide,
someone experienced. Who does that mean?? Of course, ME!!!!!! I do, afterall,
know him IRL. Same class, same area, desks one beside another, houses 1 mile
apart, close. I can explain it to him.

The mission was fun, and so was the planning of the saguaro class
vessel. I will have specs to everyone sometime soon.

End Log Computer.
::computer beeps, log ends::
::Warp settles back and relaxes in sickbay, and he falls asleep::

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Begin Log-

Kali stood at the street corner, unconciously crumpling the peice of paper in
her hand. 23rd and 5th Ave., that's what the message had said. She checked
her watch again. 5:01. Only two minutes since the last time she'd checked.
Oh, where were they?!? They.. whoever they were... were late!
"Kali?"
Kali spun around quickly to face... herself?
No... not herself...
"Kalla? What are you doing here? And where are Jenny and Justice?"
They embraced. Kali pulled away and looked at her sister. She had forgotten
how much alike they looked in their 'human' forms. There was, in fact, no
physical difference. No birthmarks or anything. Of course, in their 'Cerian'
forms, there were many differences, but the only way to tell them apart in
this form was their attitudes.
"Jenny is in the store across the street getting a gift for Justice, and
Justice is with her," Kalla told her.
"Are you sure that's safe? Leaving Jenny alone with the baby like that with
her... condition?"
"Yes it's safe! I think I would know!" Kalla snapped.
Kali stepped back. She couldn't believe Kalla had done that. She used to be
the impatient mouth of the two, Kalla the rational ever-patient perfect
child. Now it seemed as if she and Kalla had traded places. Kalla sighed.
"I'm sorry, Li. It's just that... well... wait a minute... what are you doing
here?"
"I got a message from some mystery person telling me that it was imperitive I
meet him here. Life or death situation," Kali explained.
"Funny... I got the same letter.." said Kalla, looking oddly at Kali, "He
told me specifically to bring Jenny and Justice."
"Interesting..." Kali murmured.
"Kalla! Guess who I found!"
Kali and Kalla turned to see Jenny pushing a baby carraige in front of her
and pulling behind her a young man.
"Who is that?" Kali whispered to Kalla.
"I don't... It's James!" Kalla exclaimed, surprised, as Jenny and the young
man came closer.
"James!" Kali cried, running up to him! They hugged.
"James! Wow! I really didn't expect to see you here! I thought you were still
living in Florida! How are you? Where are Amy and Austin and Ben? How are
they?" Kali blubbered.
"Whoa! It's nice ta see you too, sis!" James said, hugging Kali again.
He looked up to where Kalla stood only a few feet away. Kali was surprised
that Kalla hadn't joined them. She wondered what was wrong. Then it dawned on
her. Justice. Kalla was still angry that James had tried to keep her from
getting custody of Justice. Kali didn't blame her.
She watched James walk to Kalla and offer his hand, which she shook.
"Kalla," he nodded.
"James," she replied cooly.
Great. World War Three, Kali thought. Thankfully, just then three figures
came zipping up the street.
"James! Austin hit me!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"That's enough! Amy, Austin, can't you two go five minutes without fighting?"
James scolded.
Ben just stood there silently.
"Apologize, both of you. No, don't say anything, because I don't want to
know."
Amy and Austin both muttered apologies. The next few moments when the three
youngest children realized who they were with were pandemonium. Finally,
seeing they were drawing a crowd, Kali suggested they all go back to her
hotel suite. Kalla made up some excuse about Justice being tired, and headed
to her own hotel. She did, however allow Jenny to go with Kali and the rest
of them.
Kali, Ben, Austin, Amy, Jenny, and James all stopped at a resteraunt and
picked up dinner before finally arriving at their planned destination. They
chatted for a couple hours, then everyone left.
Finally, when Kali was alone, she started packing her bags up. She planned to
leave early the next morning. She called Kalla's room to say goodbye, but
noone was there. Well, perhaps she could get ahold of her before she left to
go home. Home. How interesting that she'd been on the Potemkin for such a
short amount of time, and she was already thinking of it as home.
By the time she fell asleep, all thoughts of the mystery person were gone.

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* *
*

Meanwhile, in a hotel a few blocks away, Jenny sat awake in the room she
shared with Kalla and Justice, who were both asleep, and congratulated
herself on how perfectly her plan had worked. The messages, a stroke of
genius. She didn't hear the phone ring.. she was too caught up in her own
thoughts to hear anything.
I'll have to do this again, she thought, sometime soon.

End Log-

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p a e d o m o r p h i s m

[ J o i n t L o g - - M a s o n / R a p t o r ]

Sometimes it was as if he couldn't tell what was real, and what was a
dream. Sometimes the sounds he heard on the sleepless mornings after
dreaming were too surreal to exist; sometimes he wished they sounded more
surreal, for the drone of the impulse engines and the pulsing of the warp
drive was oddly disturbing to him. Sometimes he longed to be back on Earth,
or back on the Corona, with Esteban and his friends, free to do what he
would, with only the limited guidelines of the Starfleet
Intelligence organization to present a boundary.
Or sometimes he wished he was a child again, playing in the same fields
he had grown up in, running by himself through the tall grass, the only
resistance to his flight the soft summer breeze which played with the weeds,
and danced with the leaves on the softly swaying trees.
It was early; the chronometer dictated 0500 hours. The viewports, of
course, were as black as sackcloth, as always, and were no judge of the time
of day. He had two hours before his duty shift on the bridge began, and he
lay in his bed--the bed that had always been double sized to accommodate his
'friends'--and thought of the times he had as a child, the times he should
have cherished.
He rose slowly, and within thirty minutes, after a shower and shave, he
was attaching his communicator to his gray shouldered uniform, and fastening
his pips onto the blue collar. He exited his quarters, and walked slowly
down the corridor, a PADD in his hand, the medical personnel files displayed
on its screen.
He entered the turbolift. "Arboretum," he said softly, sighing in the
wake of the closing door. He looked about the small, cylindrical compartment
and sighed almost silently, remembering his youth. The 'lift arrived on the
appropriate deck moments later, and he stepped out, winding his way through a
maze of hallways, and finally appearing at the immense, double-doors of the
arboretum.

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He realized for the first time, the massive size of the facility. It
had to have been at least one hundred meters in length and width, and various
paths and walkways laced the wildlife which had grown there as a result of
the proper temperatures and climate set by the automatic life support
controls in one of the numerous 'back rooms'. He walked past a few select
trees and plants from Betazed, and sat down at the edge of a small brook, its
water flowing swiftly from one end of the massive complex
to the other.
Trees and shrubs from Earth stood in the immediate vacinity, and Robert
scooted up closer to the bank of the stream, listening to the water splash
off the rocks which lined the tiny river on both sides, and even in the
middle. The water wove an efficient path either over or around the
obstacles, and the doctor placed the beige-colored PADD on the ground,
listening to the hushed sounds of the water and the leaves rustling in the
turbulence of a cool, artificial breeze.
He had considered, many times, using the holodeck as a sort of personal
sanctuary, but it all seemed so false, so fake, so wrong. But this... This
was a place he could think, set things straight, maybe even dream. His life
had been full of false hope, broken promises, setbacks.
But at least he had found a place where he could reflect on--
"Want some company?" Lieutenant Raptor's voice interrupted his
rumination session, and Robert was almost glad. He turned to see the
dinosaur standing on the crest of a small mound, covered with moss. The
starlit windows provided a heavenly backdrop as Robert gazed up at her,
looking into her left eye, which seemed distant somehow. Or maybe it was
just him.
Robert sighed. "On Earth, I remember spending a lot of time near places
like this." He smiled. "Have a seat, nest-sister." Chuckling, he shifted
to the side, allowing her space to plant her large, 325 pound body.
"They have starship arboretums on Earth?" she said with a smile. She
crouched next to him, and got comfortable.
Robert smiled. "No, but there are some very beautiful natural
formations: waterfalls, caves, forests..." He gestured to the stream. "And
brooks, like this one."

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"Ah. I see." She glanced at the water, and then back at him. "So what
are you doing here so early, before your duty shift on the bridge?" Her tone
was slightly mocking, as if she thought him lazy. If it had been anyone
else, Robert would have felt the need to grow defensive; but he knew it was
Arisah. That made it all right.
So he laughed slightly, the sound followed closely by a long, winded
exhale. "Thinking."
"About what?"
"What's not in my personnel files is that I spent some time with
Intelligence, when I was younger."
Arisah cocked her head to the side, as if requesting more information.
Her left eye focused intently on him; he couldn't see her right, as it was
located on the other side of her head. Her leather-like skin glistened a bit
in the light of the artificial sunlamps.
"I don't know that much about it; most of it I've forgotten." He
sighed, and Raptor knew it was obviously difficult for him to discuss. "The
counselor on the Odyssey helped me remember once." He remembered Tamara; he
would never forget her. The way her hair flowed down past her shoulders, the
way her eyes soothed him, the way her presence lit up a room. The way her
mind gently brushed against his in such an unmistakably familiar and
comforting way.
The way she used to touch him when they made love.
"Remember what?"
"A small fraction of my life."
He tossed a small pebble into the water; it sank to the bottom of a pool
that had gathered near a small cove, or indent in the bank of the brook. "It
was terrifying." He looked to Arisah for some sort of approval, to let him
know that she wouldn't mock him for being afraid of what he'd done once, or
many times, for all he knew. Maybe it wasn't the best course of action to
let her know Robert Mason wasn't the perfect, fearless Starfleet officer.
Maybe she would laugh, maybe the friendship would
change, maybe it would be ruined.
But Arisah stayed silent.

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"The things I saw in the memories she helped me re-live were awful,
Arisah. Death, rape, murder, theft, corruption...." He dug a small hole in
the dirt that covered the deck plating three feet below.
Arisah remained silent.
"When I was growing up in Virginia--that's a place on Earth--I had no
idea of what I was to become." He tossed a small clump of dirt into the
water. The current separated the grainy particles and pulled them
downstream. "It was just me, having fun, playing, dreaming. Sometimes I
played with my friends, but the time I enjoyed the most was the time I spent
alone, during the summer, when my classes were all over, and I was free."
She placed a comforting hand on his knee, her head bowed slightly.
"And I would just sit back and dream, Arisah. Just think, and dream. I
don't know how to describe it, but it was when I could just be alone, and
sort out my life, what few years it consisted of back then. There was this
field, I remember, where I first decided that I wanted to be a doctor. Of
course, then it was more of a whim, but it was what I really, really wanted.
"And now, I've lost that place; and I don't mean just because I'm not on
Earth anymore. But it's hard now to find a place where I can dream. Or
maybe it's because I've lost the will to do it. Maybe I don't have any
dreams left."
Arisah's skin was cool tot he touch; Mason felt it now, as her hand
moved to his own, grasping it, and closing around it. "Why does it have to
be a place?"
Robert looked from the ground to her in surprise. "What?"
"You can be with people you care about, and dream the same dreams." She
offered the dinosaur equivalent of a smile.
He smiled, for the first time that morning, a genuine smile. "You're a
good friend, Arisah." He meant it truthfully, too. Of all the people on the
Potemkin, he found it easiest to talk to the Chief Science Officer. She had
never once judged him, and she was always there for him, whenever he needed
her. The fact was proven this morning, Robert thought.

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She grinned back at him, noticing something in his eyes that was new.
It was hope, and to know she had put it there, in his eyes, was comforting.
She stood. "Come on. You've got about an hour. You have time to buy me
some breakfast."
Robert stood, laughing. "I suppose you'll want the tribble, over-easy,
with a side of ground human?" He ducked, ready to be pounced on.
"We'll see." She glared mockingly at him, and the duo exited the
arboretum, walking at a slow, unhurried pace, side by side.

p a e d o m o r p h i s m

[ J o i n t L o g - - M a s o n / R a p t o r ]

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:enters room with tuba in hand and sits in chair::

Computer, play an arrangement of Pacabel's Cannon in D, for 5 part Brass.
Delete the tuba line.

Computer> Working........Ready.

::Bjorn plays along, loosing him self in the music::

::at the end of music, he stops and puts his tuba down::

Computer open personal log.
::LOG OPEN::
Well, I think a finally have a friend on board the Potemkin. Arisah and
I had drinks in ten forward and discussed doing research into why her
species is unreadable to Betazoids. I am very excited about that.
I am planning on holding a concert w/ holoversions of the famous earth
brass group, Canadian Brass. I hope every one on board enjoys it.
Princess has finally found something that she will eat. It is canine
supplement #169,Bjorn-A. Hopefully she will be content with that.

::END LOG::

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Computer, open log

::LOG OPEN::
Well, Dr. Mason has confirmed my suspisions. I have TargN'x syndrome. It
is a malidy that all Betazoid males have in their early twenties. The brains
neurotransimitter production is goofed up. Adrelanine output increases by
100% while pshcyodin, NT responsible for telepathic/empathic abilities,
production is reduced by 150%. Also testosterone production doubles.
This results in me being extremely eager for the compainionship of
persons of the opposite sex, while at the same time I loose my telepathy and
my ability to know what wome want. Needless to say I have gotten myself into
some, ah.... difficult, situations.
Mason says that there is nothing he can do to counteract the syndrome,
but says it should pass in a few weeks. I dunno if I can make it that long.

::END LOG::

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::kisses Ens Duvall, passionately on her cheek::
Good-bye dear, I'll see you at dinner.
Good bye Bjorn, I'll be counting the minutes until I see you again.

::as Duvall leaves Bjorn sits at down in the chair by his desk::

Computer open personal log.
::log open::

Well I've met a girl. Ens Luciana Duvall. She works in stellar
cartography. We met at the Captain's wedding. I had noticed her until that
time. But as I saw her it was as if the universe had stopped for everyone but
the two of us. The roar of the audio speakers playing countless hours of
the"Macarena" seemed to fade into nonexistance.
We talked and danced. Finally we went back to my quartes and talked all
night long. We have so much in common it is unbelievable.
I can't wait until dinner tonight.

::end log::

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Begin Personal Log
Stardate 9706.05

Last thursday was a very happy day. Shodan and Putty finally got
married.(And about time too <g>) And next week I hope to finally get a game
of poker off. Anyway since last week I have restarted my NASCAR racing season
and quite frankly i am having a troke of bad luck. I crashed out of the third
race at lap 42 thanks to another car hitting me from behind and another one
hitting me staright in the engine. I finished 26th and dropped in the points
standings to 27th. I also plan to go back to
Paris again to visit my family who I haven't seen since December.

I have also been invited to a small party on terris 7 where an old
friend of mine and his wife will be celebrating there 5th anniversary. They
have asked me to lead the band and play a small tune for them. So many things
have been happening this past week it's hard to keep track. Well there isn't
much to tell now, So until the next log.

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::Bjorn wakes slowly and looks at the beautiful creature that shares his
bed::
::He marvels at her beauty and gently stroke the ridges on her Bajoran nose::
::quiety, he gets out of bed and walks into the next room::

Computer, open personal log

::Log Open::
Things are greeat between Allannis and I. For my birthday we plan to
take a runabout, USS Sharron Stone, to Risa. I 've never been before but she
said it's a great place. We are so alike I can only assume that she will be
right.
Two days ago, Princess finally gave me her approval of Allanis.
Princess ran up, jumped and put her front paws on Allanis' chest, just like
she does me. Princess is happy. I am Happy. And I'm sure Allanis is happy.

::CLOSE LOG::

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:Bjorn and Duvall stand in the shuttlebay waiting for Frank to finish
inspecting USS Sharron Stone:::

::To Frank:: Well.... Is she space worthy?
Frank> No. She has a slight leak in her anti matter containment pod.
Any of her sister ships are available though. The USS Allanis
Morrisette, USS Gwen Steffani, USS Demi Moore, USS Jewel, USS Alicia
Silverstone, USS Uma Thurman, USS Liv Taylor, USS Claire Dane, USS Tina
Turner, and the USS Mariana Sirtis, they are all good vessels and are ready
to launch.

::Looks at Duvall:: We'll take the USS Tina Turner.
Frank> All right, she is ready for launch
::Frank walks to the control booth::
Frank> You are cleared for lauch. Have fun on Risa.
:: Bjorn and Duvall glance at each other:: =/\= WE will!!

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~ T H E H O M E C O M I N G , p a r t o n e ~

joint log, Commander Sierra Rhydarr and Fst. Lieutenant Taren Dar

NOTE: The following log takes place after Damara's surgery,
and just before Sierra leaves for the USS Potemkin.

Dare sat in the darkness of Sierra's quarters, only a nightlight
casting a pinkish glow in the room, completely messmorized by the tiny little
girl in his arms. He had waited a long time to hold his daughter in his arms,
to see his family again.

Sierra saw her last client of the day out, letting out a soft sigh of
relief as the door shut behind the Ensign. Word of her promotion had come
through only a couple days ago, and she had received her posting as Executive
Officer to the USS Potemkin. Zimmerman had finished up his programming and
was running the LCP through tests. In the meantime, she was trying to get as
many evals caught up as she could, organize herself and Taryn for the move,
and ready herself for her new position. She had
boxes already neatly packed and stacked both in her office and in her
quarters. She was beginning to wish there were thirty hours in the day.

Dare stood with the child and headed for the holodecks.

The counselor walked around her office, shutting down the lights,
making sure the replicator was off, feeding her fish. The instruments had
been taken off her walls; she was deciding on what to replace them with. She
knew having the crew dealing with a LCP that was, basically, their own
familiar Counselor, would be an interesting situation. She wanted to keep the
office as much like it had been while she was there. She glanced thoughtfully
at the holoemitters now embedded discreetly into the
walls, then around at her office again. Sierra picked a PADD she needed to
review up off her desk, and headed for the door, looking forward to spending
time with her daughter.

Dare arrived at the holodeck doors, Taryn held carefully in his arms.
"Computer, holoprogram Taren 2."
Beep. "Program complete. Enter when ready."
He looked around at the lush green jungle of what used to be the
Valley of Mexico on Earth. Dare and his serenely cooing little girl took a
ride on a canal skiff to the city-state of Texcoco. They sailed past vast
canals and chinampas covered with trees, some crops and other flowers.
Finally the pair reached the dock at Texcoco.
As they climbed the steps to the mountain palace of Tezcotinizco, Dare
said out loud, "Cedra, accompany us."
There was the familiar beep of a holographic program activating, and
Cedra appeared, dressed in the traditional clothing for a daughter of a Royal
House of Texcoco. She joined him as they walked the path towards the summit.

Sierra walks across the corridor to the turbolift, and got on.
"Deck 2."
The turbolift moved quietly towards the senior officers' deck. She
hummed quietly to herself as she looked over the PADD she was holding. The TL
doors opened, and she walked down the corridor towards her quarters
The door slid open at her approach, and she walked in, tossing the
PADD towards couch, and heading towards the bedroom, noting the absence of
the holographic caregiver. Sierra felt her heart stop cold as she saw Taryn
was not in her crib. One hand clutched at the bureau.
"Computer, where is Taryn Rhydarr?"
"Taryn Rhydarr is in holodeck 3."
~~What is she doing there?!?~~ "And who is in HD3 with Taryn?"
"Unable to answer that question at this time."
"Why not?"
"Please restate the question."
"Nevermind..... Thank you....." Heart beating rapidly, she headed out
of her quarters and towards HD3.

<continued>

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The three were seated atop of the palace gardens. Water flowed through
stone-lined pools and the Great Library was just barely visible through the
trees. The sun shone brightly down upon them, the perfume of the exotic
flowers wafting through the warm afternoon. Dare played with Taryn while
Cedra watched nearby.

Sierra caught her breath as she stood outside the HD, looking at the
program currently in progress.
~~ Taren 2? ~~
She tapped the door panel, and entered the HD. The doors slid shut
behind her, and the arch disappeared, as she looked at the beautiful gardens
around her. Based on the name, she'd almost want to guess it was a program of
Dare's... but she had only ever seen him run Alamogordo simulations, and the
rare programs like the snowball fight they'd played in.

Dare handed Taryn to Cedra, so that she could dress her in smaller
version of the dress Cedra was wearing. Cedra, knowing what her 'father' is
doing, just nodded as he disappeared, gently playing with Taryn.

Not quite knowing which way to go, Sierra followed what looked like
the main pathway towards the majestic temple looming ahead.
"Hello?" she called out cautiously, listening to the birdsong and the
wind rustling the foilage in response.
Two uniformed Eagle Knights stepped out of the brush, their golden
eagle helmets and green plumed capes sparkling and billowing in the wind, and
met Sierra, who looked up, heart still beating quickly in apprehension.
"Where is my daughter?"
The left Guard spoke. "That is not our place to say, Lady
Cloudryder."
~~This isn't funny.~~ Sierra was upset enough to not notice the old
nickname. "Where is Taryn?" She managed to keep her voice calm. She looked
from one to the other, then moved to step forward and go by them.
The right Guard spoke, moving his arm slightly to block her. "You can
speak with Lady Precious Flower at the Palace Gardens."
"Lady Precious Flower? Who is she?"
His face consealed under his golden eagle helmet, as is the way of the
Knights of the Order of the Eagle, the left guard asked, "Why you jest with
me, Lady Cloudryder?"
Sierra looked at the left guard, curious.
He gestured. "We will accompany you there."
"By all means."
The right Guard, face also concealed, led the way, Sierra following
behind him, and the left Guard falling in step behind. The trio climbed the
steps towards the summit gardens. Sierra looked around, anxious to find
Taryn.

Cedra, being able to manipulate the HD, skimmed a giggling Taryn over
the water pools. Playfully, but also very carefully, Cedra continued to skim
Taryn across the water , just barely letting her hand touch the small
waterfall. Taryn let out a gurgling cry of amusment.

Sierra's keen Vulcan hearing picked up the sound of her daughter's
voice.
"Where is she?" She turned to look at the guards, then toward the
sound again.
The right guard said over his shoulder, "Not much further, Lady
Cloudryder."
At top of stairs, the Guards moved to flank the Commander, the pathway
entering a small garden, when Sierre could see an undisturbed Cedra
continuing to play with Taryn.
"Cedra! What are you doing here?" She left the guards behind her as
she crossed to the pools and to Cedra.
Cedra stood up, white and light green dress flowing about her, an
orange-plumed headress spouting from a gold tiara as she turns to Si, Taryn
safely in her arms.
"Why wouldn't I be here?"
Sierra approached. "I... I don't recall taking you along, for one.
And I don't recall seeing you programmed in the 'banks, before." The Guards
stop just behind Sierra, at ease. She looked confused as she reached for
Taryn, relieved she was safe.
Cedra, her exotically-shaped face smiling, as she says, "I am needed
here first, Lady Cloudryder."

<continued>