Initial
by Allope Isaaisa and David Moody

The trill made his way to Sickbay shortly after meeting with the Captain. The bay was large, and well lit — larger than he expected the Sickbay of an intrepid class vessel to be — and clean, fresh, new. To his knowledge, rest of the other personnel had reported aboard, which explained the dearth of people in Sickbay. Normally, his office would be attached to Sickbay itself, but he had put in a request for relocation to the quarters next to his, with an additional request for enjoinment, a doorway in the bulkhead between the two spaces. Hashar Mor did, however, want to check into the medical database of the crew of the starship Victory, this ship that the Missouri had been asked to locate, and he thought that the databases centered near Sickbay would be the most complete in that regard. As such, he stepped into the empty Chief Medical Officer`s Office, and was studying the Victory rosters when he heard the outer door to Sickbay swish open.
“Ya te hey.” A smoky voice sounded. Romany placed the PADD she had been reading on the side. “I`m Romany Isaaisa. CMO and something tells me you are Lieutenant Commander Hashar Mor. You come for your medical or simply a chat?” Romany asked.

Mor looked up from the console before him to regard the woman as she spoke. Isaaisa, she had said, and that sounded certainly familiar. He realized who this person was, and nearly leaped out of the seat he had misappropriated from her. “Oh,” he stammered, “Chief Medical Officer,” he stressed, “Isaaisa.” He looked from her and to her desk, and then back to her, “Uh, I was just looking over some files,” he said, his countenance smoothing as he realized that she did not appear put off in the slightest by his presence in her office. “Learning about the crew of another vessel,” he told her, uncertain if she`d learned of the upcoming mission.

Romany held her hand out. “Romany. You think you can manage that?” She asked with a smile as she turned the replicator. “What will you have to drink?” she asked.
Mor smiled. He was going to like this woman — a relief after Tesra Mor`s strained relationship with the part-Klingon Chief Medical Officer Doctor T`Orla. “Water,” he told her, padding along behind her toward the replicator. “When did you get aboard,” the trill asked. “I thought I was the only one in medical here yet,” he finished. The woman was certainly part Klingon — her brow belied that. But there was something else in there too — whether cultural or genetic he could not rightly tell straightaway, but it was certainly exotic and compelling.

“I got on today about two hours ago. Now what are you drinking and do you intend to stick to rank?” Romany asked with a grin.

Mor`s brow creased. “I already said water,” he chided in a light jibe. “I`m not too much of a stickler to rank. To be honest,” he leaned in toward her, and spoke conspiratorially, “I don`t see the use for rank in a system that eschews currency in the first place,” he admitted, standing up straight as he watched the woman order her beverage and his water.

“Hashar it is then.” She grinned. “Chamomile tea please.” Romany said as she retrieved her drink. “There are rumors about a trill that go busted. That would be you I am guessing?” She asked softly as she sat down.

Hashar sighed, reaching past the woman to retrieve his water. It seemed he would never escape Garon II. “Yeah,” he nodded, taking a sip. This was the second time aboard the Missouri that he felt like he was back there, amid the lush greenery of the place, and that at any moment, the screams would start again. “I got busted a few years ago,” the Counselor admitted before taking a sip of his water. “But I`m better now,” he tapped his rank pips absently as he tipped the glass up to his mouth once more. He sought a seat near the woman and settled into it.

“Okay this is where we make a deal okay?” Romany grinned. “I tell you two things you ready?” She asked as she sipped her tea.

Hashar eyed the woman with curiosity. He had had a professional relationship once before in which he shared the secrets of Garon II with someone, and they had told him a few things that they should certainly have taken to the grave — but he always made sure he knew where his friend had been — right up until the moment he had died, aboard a galaxy-class starship during the Battle of Chin`toka.

He nodded at Romany, sipping fitfully at his water, prepared to stop her if need be. He was not prepared to release his secrets just yet — if that what`s she was vying for — and he was certain it was.

“Okay one the other side of my heritage is Apache so you can now stop wondering that. And whatever reasons you got busted for I don`t give a damn.” She smiled. “You do your job here as far as I am concerned you got a clean slate. I have 3 sisters all of which had disagreements with XO`s and CO`s for being them but they knew their jobs. You think you can handle that?” she asked as she sipped her Chamomile tea again.

“I think,” Mor said, certain his face had darkened by several shades when the Doctor was finished speaking, “I can handle that.” The trill smiled, relieved that Romany was not going to ask him to divulge anything regarding Garon Two, and further pleased that the woman was lending an understanding acknowledgement toward him. He had not expected this. He was not certain what he had been expecting — perhaps some of Doctor T`Orla`s gruffness. The man had been insufferably smug about his own sanctity and honor, which served only to infuriate Tesra Mor, who silently fumed on more than one occasion T`Orla had had to showcase Tesra`s respectability. His blatant brown-nosing had been sickening, and Mor was afraid that the converse of the inverse would be true here. “Apache,” he mused. “That`s Terran, right?”

“Yes it is.” Romany admitted. “My father’s line is traced back to Cochise of the late 19th century. They took the chance when my sisters and I were young to settle on a small colony in the Alpha quadrant. Echner III. Mixes well with the Klingon in me. Pops said it means I have more sense than a race that believes they killed their own gods.” She grinned.
In days that seems like centuries ago, and were certainly several lifetimes ago, Yuris Mor had studied a good deal of Terran History in reference to his sociological studies of the planet and his study of a romance language that was nearly dead even then — French. Hashar searched his memories, ones that Romany`s very presence was pulling to the forefront of his joined mind. “Cochise,” Mor said aloud, recalling bits and pieces of Yuris` studies. “That was uh, Beonkohe? Chokonen? Nendi? I can`t seem to recall which of the six sub-tribes that derives from.” He caught Romany`s eye and explained briefly, seeing her mild surprise that he could pull up ancient history on her people from within his mind.
“One of my former hosts, Yuris,” he told her, “was a student of Terran sociology of sorts. I remember a bit about most of the different groups of Earth, and if you give me a minute, I might even be able to reconstruct some rudimentary Athabscan for you . . .” He smiled then, hoping the woman would not take offense at his perhaps elementary, certainly second-hand rootings around in her culture.“Chirichua and even my Athabscan are rough. I understand you speak Klingon?” She said calmly. “I have had little dealings with Trills before so I am afraid I do not know an awful lot about your culture either so I think we both have a good chance of insulting each other.” She said calmly. “Now I believe you beat me to the punch as I was about to look at the crew records for the victory. But seeing as you were keeping my chair cozy I guess you got there first.” She smiled as she half turned her computer screen to him. “I would appreciate it if you shared your insights with me to save time.” she said calmly.
Romany was proud but she knew the futility of insisting on being the only person to peruse the data. Whilst other Klingons had taken that attitude with things she had learnt that two heads were often better than one

Mor stood and moved to the replicator, his glass now empty. “Nozruc and Farrell just about thought they were part Klingon,” Hashar said, gesturing at the Doctor`s glass out of courtesy as he had his empty vessel dematerialized and reconfigured as a full cup of water. “So I`ve got a good deal of the language down.” He retrieved his glass and moved toward Romany once more. He gestured, then, at a nearby library computer and retrieval system interface to suggest that they use it as a visual aide while they spoke. “I don`t know how much we can actually help during this mission until the Victory`s actually located in some way,” Mor admitted.

“They disappeared from here,” he had brought up a schematic of the alpha quadrant, and was pointing at a space near the planet Andor, navigationally southeast of the Sol system, from with the Missouri would be launching. The schematic quickly backed up to encompass the entire Federation, then the surrounding space, and soon the entire milky way. As it started to zoom back in, it focused instead on the north-western quadrant of the galaxy, the Gamma. “And they ended up somewhere in here,” Mor said, “if the SCE`s subspace specialists are correct in their calculations.” He looked at Romany. “They mention that there were several tell tale particles abundant in the area the Victory disappeared from that not only indicated some sort of displacement wave, but also a certain speed and trajectory. Assuming the wave died out before leaving the galaxy,” Mor added, “the ship should be somewhere here,” he indicated the entirety of the far reaches of the Gamma Quadrant, including the portion of the energetic, crackling galactic barrier that sprawled across the upper portion of the area.
Romany handed her cup to Hashar with a smile. “You can probably help more than you realize. We will be looking at a lot of stress and trauma cases. I could certainly do with help in sick bay when we get to the Victory. Don`t tell the Captain but I hate the EMH`s they give me the heebie jeebies.” Romany shuddered. “That sort of distance you are looking at numerous complaints. Lordy I hope they have some form of medic still functional.” She said calmly. “I think the best we can hope for is that the wave didn`t alert any unfriendly parties to investigate we don`t want a full blown war on our hands before we even get through our paces. Have any of your hosts come across something like this?” Romany asked as she looked at the screen.
Mor shook his head as he regarded the saturnine angles of the Doctor`s face. “I don`t think so,” the trill countered, adding, “but things get kind of fuzzy once you go back past Yuris, my fifth host. Sometimes I can only remember Divad in bits and pieces, for instance. If I remember anything, I`ll let you know,” the Counselor offered hopefully.
“I would appreciate that. Two other things need clearing up though Hashar.” Romany said as she reached for her tricorder.
Mor`s eyes widened and he took a reflexive half step back, gasping nearly inaudibly. “What,” he said, concern twisting his features.
“Oh chill Hashar.” She laughed softly. “One s according to my records you have not had a medical and two is how much medical knowledge do you have?” She asked with a chuckle.
Hashar steadied himself, laughing quietly at his own jumpiness — T`Orla`s bedside manner had apparently affected Mor in ways Hashar was only now beginning to discover. “Well,” Hashar said, watching as Romany began to run her device down the length of his body. “Yinti was a Doctor,” he said. “But though that was recent, he ah — um, he –” He peered at Romany out of his periphery, not daring to move an inch as the woman scanned. “Let`s just not use him, whaddya say,” the trill posed. Then, he resisted the urge to snap his fingers as he said, “Oh yeah — Tarse, my third host, he was a Doctor!” Days and nights spent in class after class that seemed useless floated across his mind, “Then again, there`s me — my degree required a base knowledge of field medicine, but I went well beyond that in my studies,” he finished with a crisp, warm smile.
“Yinti? Why should we not use him?” Romany asked as she raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that he may shock me? I doubt it.” She laughed easily. “Tarse well that is two doctors, and you. Well then chaos in sick bay seems easier to cope with now. Although with that sort of knowledge floating around your head quite why my tricorder made you jump like a scalded cat I have no idea.” She grinned as she closed the tricorder. “You will be glad to hear you are fit for duty. Complete clean bill of health.” She reported as she amended the PADD on her desk.Mor started counting off on his finger. “First of all,” he said, indicating one after the next, “Yinti stole Mor from Farrell, and didn`t stay for very long, thankfully — so I don`t have *all* of his twisted thoughts running around inside me,” he quipped. “Tarse, like I said was number three, so some of his memories are kind of fuzzy, being as he was, pre-Yuris.” He stretched then — the Mor hosts always had a tendency to do that after being scanned, which was something that had really helped during the Dominion War, as it was an uncontrollable that was started at a subatomic scale. “And thanks,” he yawned, covering his mouth, the stretch having pulled the yawn out of him. “I try to keep pretty fit,” the trill admitted.

“Well it helps with your medical.” She grinned. “Tarse I heard about. Others no. Farrell Mor was an Engineer?” She asked recalling a name her great uncle had mention to her years before.
Mor smiled, shaking his head slightly. “Good shot, very close, but you`ve got Nozruc and Farrell switched up, I think. Nozruc was the engineer, and Farrell Mor was a scientist,” he said plainly. His face cracked a bit with light mirth, “Have you heard of one of them?” It never failed to amuse him how small the galaxy was each time someone purported to know of a past Mor, and then he and someone traced their knowledge back to something that Hashar could actually recall.
“Isaaisa, Kees, Lt Commander Engineering. Ring a bell?” Romany asked calmly. Her great uncle had been a tear away and the bane of many a chief engineer until some bright spark gave him his own department then hew was found tuning one thing or another to get an extra few points out of it
Mor snapped his fingers. “I thought the name sounded vaguely familiar — if I recall correctly, there was an engineer aboard the Excelsior named Kees.” The familiar tickle of shared memories ran up his spine again as he regarded Romany`s features again. “I`d say you favor him a great deal.”
“I inherited his knack for blowing things up too.” Romany grinned. “So Hashar now you have met the person other than the CO and XO you were dreading meeting do the rest of your new crewmates seem as daunting? Romany asked as she reached into her medical bag and retrieving a rectangular object placed it on the deck. Hashar could see it was a picture of her niece and nephew a copy of which was kept in her cabin
Mor said absently, “The roster`s not even filled up yet, so who knows,” as he caught a glimpse of the images Romany was pulling from her case. “Who that,” he said, getting a closer look.
“Cheyenne and Dakota.” Romany said a hint of pride in her voice.
“Your kids?”
Romany grinned. “No such luck.” She told him. “Those two tear ways are my sister’s twins. “They are 3/4 Klingon. Three years old and full of beans. They are stationed on the colony at Jerrado.”Mor picked up the images as they spoke, and he caught that last word, “Near the Gamma Quadrant Wormhole?”

Romany nodded. “Yes. Ally speaks about taking them onto a ship and reassigning to a ship command. I don`t think their father would be impressed though. Cheyenne is the mayhem causing although my nephew Dakota usually gets the blame.” Romany smiled.
Mor chuckled a moment, recalling his earlier years when his brother Edwud would visit similar onuses onto him. “That`s the way of kids no matter the culture, eh?” He realized that he had forgotten something, then, and his face showed it beamingly.
“Regardless culture all children are the same it is the great leveler I think. You have nieces or nephews?” Romany asked glad that he seemed to relax in her company a little now.“Oh,” Mor said, remembering the Captain’s order. “Listen, I need to go fin Lieutenant Furnell,” he said, excusing himself. “I’ll be back shortly,” he posed.

Romany nodded, “You can remind him he needs to show his face in medical, too!”

Mor grinned, “Will do,” as he disappeared from Sickbay through the double sliding entryway.

Say Hello
by Bob Brazeau

Walking down the small street in Paris, they made an odd pair. Zees stood out from the crowd, being over 7 feet tall and a reptile to boot, whereas Devereaux was average in every way, being about 6 feet tall, brown hair, brown eyes, average. No one ever remembered him. Which was just as well, since he was a senior operative for the Federation Intelligence Service, which was constantly at odds with Star Fleet Intel.

The two spoke as old friends, and the banter was interesting, because it switched language so often, with each trying to stump the other. As they neared the Café, they shifted the conversation to Standard and the reason they were here. Partax son, Zees was missing, as well as a common friend to both men, a large much scarred Catian officer named Wayland.

The Admiral was there, along with a Catian who might be an aid. Both were dressed in mufti, as were the visitors. They shook hands across the small table. The Admiral took care of the introductions. “Zees, Devereaux, this is Kaaran.” Both of the visitors were stunned. They had expected Wayland daughter to still be a cub, as they remembered her.

She grinned at them, which caused 2 customers to grab up their child, throw credit chits on the table and depart in haste. She had not learned the art of smiling. For her a grin meant that her full array of teeth showed, including the huge 4 inch incisors.

“Raymond, it has been far too long.” Her hand engulfed the humans, it took a moment for Devereaux to realize she was nearly the size of her sire, who was large for a Catian male. For a female, she was huge.

Zees however was larger still and he easily lifted her over the table in a hug that knocked the sugar and other condiments off of the table. She laughed and hugged him back, hard. He laughed with her, then set her down. “For a cub, you are growing strong.” Which from a Gorn was a high complement.

She picked up the fallen items and returned to her seat. Once they had ordered, the Admiral pulled a small box from his pocket, pushed a button on the top and then spoke. “I have some news, and I want you all to know. We are sending out a starship to find Partax and your father. I don’t know what positions are open, but I can get 2 of you on her.”

Devereaux looked at the Admiral hard. “Missouri,” he said, his voice hard and flat. “Is that the best you can do Sir?”

Kaaran looked at the younger human. “Why is that bad? Is this some old tug or something??” She was confused. Surly something was better than nothing. But if this were some derelict tub, she would go to her uncle and get the Catian Defense Forces to give her a ship.

“It’s a little light exploration ship. They can run pretty fast, but against Dominion fighters, well, my bet would be on the bad guys.”

“The Admiral knew who Devereaux worked for, and responded in defense of the ship. “She has a good Captain, and all of the upgrades that could be added on. She’s fast and packs a pretty good punch.”

The Admiral sitting with them was a friend, and when Zees spoke, he addressed their friend as he had for many years.

“Captain, I appreciate the help. What of the Patton?” He asked because for an encounter with the Dominion, a big Chandley Class Assault Cruiser would have a better chance of fighting it’s way in and out.

“Your old friend, Phil Maston has her now.” The admiral replied, “She will move to intercept from DS9, if and when we receive a signal.” Maston was a close friend of all 3 Starfleet Officers. If anyone could bring their old ship to the rescue, it was Maston.

The Admiral looked across the table. “I want to let you know, the 2 I got permission for are you Zees and for Kaaran. She has First Contact Training, and is cross qualified to work in sciences also..”

Devereaux looked crushed. His best friend was in trouble and he was helpless. “I’ll take my leave then.” He said. Standing quickly, he headed back the way he had come, his step angry.

“Kaaran looked after her fathers friend. “You hurt him, Admiral. Why?”

The older human traced his index finger idly on the table top for a minute. “He’s sick, and he doesn’t have much time. He picked up Turlong Syndrome.”

Zees wondered why his friend has looked different. The subtle differences in the humans energy output were visible to few, and only the Gorn and Catian has the specific ability to see the output.

“I thought that was normal, for an older man.” She looked hard at the Admiral. He glowed in a normal way. “Well, Admiral. What do we do now.”

The Fleet Admiral stood, and signaled the shops owner. “We get to Headquarters and get your assignments.”

Launch
by Captain Styles and Lieutenant Furnell

Stardate 58817.6

Captain Styles was standing on his bridge after a chat with Mr. Furnell and a call from Starfleet Command informing him that they were ready to begin their mission.

“Mr. Furnell.” Jeff said loudly enough for the reest of the bridge crew to hear.

“Yes Captain?”

“Get me Departure Control.”

Sean nodding, “Control Tower reading Sir.”

“Control this is Missouri, requesting permission to depart.” Styles said as he sat down in his command chair for the first time.

“Missouri, this is control, Request Granted.”

The Captain`s voice responded clear & confident, “Very Well, Awaiting port gates from this mark.”

“All Lines clear.” Came the Dock flight Controller.

“Lieutenant Kaaran, Port & Starboard Thrusters at Station Keeping, Aft Thrusters to Full. Let`s Take a step out shall we?”

Outside in space many workers on EVA duty were looking up in awe as the Intrepid-Class vessel smoothly slipped from its berth and into the gentle stars under thruster power.

The Missouri then picked up speed to impulse power. If any passing ship could notice, the sun was shinging brightly, the terran sun emphasizing the beauty and the graceful lines of the Missouri was a breathtaking site.

“Clear of space traffic.”

“Noted Lieutenant Kaaran. Plot a course for Andor, Warp Seven.” Styles said as everyone was feeling pretty good about themselves with the Missouri`s launch from dry-dock.

Even the Counsleor liked the view even though Mor techincally didn`t have a position on the bridge.

“Course Plotted and laid in.”

“Engage.”

At the helm
by Bob Brazeau

As the ship moved free of the mooring, Kaaran had to stifle the urge to shout, “Free at last.”

Running a continual diagnostic as she headed out, the young Catian woman watched the crew begin to function as a team. He father had said that this was always the most fun for the bridge crew and the most taxing time for engineering, because every ship has engineering problems on launch, no matter who built it.

The run up to warp speed was smooth, and she looked at the shielded control panel. Missouri was fun to drive, quick and light at the controls. If the sims were right, it would be a little sluggish because of the armor when doing radical manuveres, but, she haden’t been consulted about that.

“Clear of space traffic.” She said.

“Noted Lieutenant Kaaran. Plot a course for Andor, Warp Seven.”

Course plotted and laid in, Warp speed at your command. The Catian woman liked the fact that the ready room wall was modular. It transmitted sound very well, and she had heard everything that was said in there.

* * *

As she entered the bridge for the first time, the young woman looked closely at the layout. It was vastly different from her last posting, but luxury was far more common in these Exploration Command ships than those in Defence Command.

She quickly pushed the sled down to the helm station and lifted the seat from the clamps. She then lay flat on her back, working quickly to remove the standard seat from its mountings. Once the last fastener was removed, the Catian woman shifted the multi-tool from her hand to her tail, moving both out of the way as she pushed up, clearing the couplings. She then rolled upright, holding the 150 pound seat easily. Once she was standing Kaaran slipped the old seat into the clamps on the sled and picked up the heavier custom seat, which matched the decore on the bridge. The new seats’ back was adjustable, allowing for her to sit without crushing her tail. Setting the seat down, she again lay on her back.

As she lifted the seat into place she heard a voice asking “Just what the hell are you doing to my boat.” Without stopping she spoke. “Installing a seat that I can sit in, Sir.” The man stank of old sweat, cigars and nasty aftershave. It was a smell she knew. Commidore Oorp owned every ship until it cleared it mooring.

“I never authorized any modifications, so you can damned well use the seat I gave you.” Is this guy drunk? The Catian woman closed her eyes for a minute. Alcohol, something different, she coulden’t recognize the source.

With a great deal of care she reached over and tapped the multitool on the mans foot. “I don’t fit in a standard chair, Sir.”

He jumped back as if snake bit. ‘Fine,” he snapped, “they let anybody fly my ships.” He stomped off. She heard the doors to the turbo lift open, then close.

She transferred the multi-tool from her tail to her hand and fastened the seat into place. The new seat had arms, each of which ended in manual over-ride controls, in case the main panel was damaged. The couplings from the arms went under the deck plates, and attached at the main trunk. She then detached the main console and lifted it free. The big panel was soft keyed, and was very slow to react.

The new panel she lifted from its case was hard faced, and was the state of the art in electronic engineering. It was so new that Starfleet had just approved it’s use for refit on frigates and attack boats. The new console was also far less prone to failure. Also, the input speed was adjustable. The Catian woman had it cranked up to full speed for her own use. For the other helm officers, she had sent instructions on how to adjust the input speed.

Once the new board was in place, she ran a systems integration diagnostic, and left the bridge, letting the computer know that she would be in main engineering.

Settling in
by Bob Brazeau

Upon entering the main engineering bay, Zees was set upon by the engineering staff, all of which had had him for an instructor in the past. After the reunion, he was given a tour of the engineering spaces. They were acceptable, and very very clean.

His office was even better, being equipped with the proper chair, replicator and even a basking rock, which was nice indeed. Pushing the thought of a good bask to the back of his mind, Zees moved around the room, fiddling and placing things where he wanted them. After a while, he wandered, as was his wont, thru the ship, poking into spaces, looking for anything that might be amiss. He found the usual small things, mostly things left by the construction crew.

When he entered the bridge, he found it empty. The pilots seat had been swapped out and a new console was installed. Moving to the helm, he checked the station controls, noting with satisfaction that Wayland’s daughter was as good as she should be. He admired the panel. It should hold up to the heavy use a Catian with razor sharp claws that unsheathed during stress could deliver.

He then checked over the Command consoles, one by one, making notes in the main computer as he went. Finally, he moved to the Main Engineering station. It was equipped with an armored housing, similar in design to the Catian’s. His staff was good, knowing that Gorn physiology would be harder on the equipment than the soft fingered mammals.

Turning from the panel, he asked the computer to display, in hologram, the estimated position of the Victory A. In the tank, it was a long way off. Well over 2 years at warp 9.5.

Well, they were going to put some of the theories to the test. He wondered if the ship would survive.

Turning he headed for the Mess hall.

Into the mystic
by Bob Brazeau

Commander Zees watched as the black gang worked around him in a type of choreographed riot. As the engines came fully on-line, the technicians and damage control teams spread thru engineering and then through the ship. Zees watched the readouts, then scowled. Whoever ordered armor on this ship had not even considered what placing the armor on a design like this would do.

“Get me a readout on the pylon stress, at both junctures. The most delicate structures on this design, the variable geometry pylons were designed to reduce damage to warp space, as well as to allow the ship to enter an atmosphere. Well, the armor put a quick stop to atmospheric flight. They could still go into an atmosphere, but only after blowing off the plating on the pylons, which would then allow the nacelles to swing into place for atmospheric flight.

The readout that came up was still in the green, but just. He needed some active experimentation to make sure things would hold together before they entered hostile territory.

“I’ll be in the test bay, if anything comes up.” Zees spoke to the senior NCO on duty, who really ran the engine room. The man nodded, then returned to his duties.

Good crew, Zees thought. Especially the NCOs. When he entered the test bay, the ship was there in 3 dimensions. The nacelles had only 12 degrees of movement, and that was far too little, when the design called for more than 40. “Computer, run a real time simulation, showing the ships reaction, damage and stress reading if the following were to happen. The ship is traveling at Warp 7, and the Captain orders emergency maneuver delta seven seven. Then he orders a crash stop. Run simulation.

The three dimensional model reacted as ordered. The stress reading were constant, then rose into the red during the maneuver, then the nacelles came off during the crash stop, leaving the ship helpless. The breaks in the pylons came at the points were the nacelles needed to move from maximum compression to near 90 degrees offset. The weight of the armor and its attachment points were the problem. Lifting a light pen from the console, the Gorn engineer began to work on a solution. Once the notes were entered, he sent a detailed memo to the Captain and to the Chief Flight Officer. They needed to know the problem while he worked on the solution.

* * *

On the bridge, the Chief Flight Control Officer read the memo from engineering. Disturbing, but not in the least unexpected. She spoke “Sir, I have a message from Engineering, also sent to the Captain, warning of a design anomaly in the engine configuration. He states that they are working on the problem, but we need to restrict combat maneuvers until he has a solution in place.”

While she waited for the First Officer to digest the information, she entered the warning into her control panel, making it necessary to manually over ride the controls to do any combat maneuvering.

She then continued running up the speed. “Warp Threshold Commander. Warp 1 now.”

The ship showed no inward sign that the very nature of space time had changed. nice thought the Catian, very smooth indeed. Obviously the problem was not to be encountered during normal flight operations.

She lifted the cup from the clip and drank, using her tail to hold it, keeping both hands on the controls. She carefully extended one claw and tapped a button on the border of the flight control panel. “Deflector shields are functioning properly for warp speed operations. Ramjet scoops are stowed, and the collectors are being emptied into space.”

She wondered why Starfleet still had the old Bussard Ramjets on the Ex-Com ships. Well, the ramjets were small, but they always worked, and if you had nothing, well, it was nice to have a backup for the backups. You just had to make sure there were no beings with notochords in range of the ram scoop, since they would die instantly if exposed to the field.

Leaving Spacedock
by Romany Isaaisa

Romany sighed as she felt the ship move out of space dock. She walked to the bridge and stood discreetly to the left of the engineer’s panel watching the magnificent vessel glide effortlessly into open space.

Despite spending her early childhood years on various federation vessels leaving space dock still fascinated her. She watched in silence then leaning towards the engineer said softly. “I would appreciate you coming to sick bay when you finish shift.”

Romany’s voice was soft so that only the Engineer heard her. “Thank you.” Romany smiled kindly. Romany was not in the habit of making a scene if something could be dealt with simply then she would deal with it in as low key a manner as possible.

Romany smiled to see the Catian flight officer had removed the standard chair and replaced it with a custom one. She could imagine the looks of horror the young woman had gotten. Seeing things were under control and the crew were in no immediate need of medical aide, Romany slipped surreptitiously from the bridge and returned to sickbay.

Calmly she sent reminders to Commander Kendall, Lt Kaaran and Lt Furnell. Of the bridge crew they were the only ones she had not seen. Commander Zees she had seen and had agreed to come to medical therefore as long as she saw the remainder f the crew relatively quickly she saw little reason to make a fuss.

Let’s Get Physical
by Bob Brazeau

Lt. Kaaran caught sight of a small flashing light on the control panel as a junior grade lieutenant tapped her on the shoulder.

“I’m your relief, the Doctor wants to see you.” Kaaran ran over the information she had on the ship, especially the flight stress warnings.

When the replacement was fully briefed, she said, “I relieve you Sir”, to the Catian, who nodded and said, “I stand relieved.”

Nodding to the Commander, the Catian woman entered the lift. Once the door closed, the Catian woman bent over backward in a full circle until her nose touched the floor next to her feet. After a moment she finished the stretch, and sat, looking for all the world like an overgrown housecat. Unfortunately, no one got on the lift with her, so when the car stopped, she stood on all fours and slowly walked out of the car, ambling toward Sickbay.

As she walked, she thought back to the first time she tried that ploy. It was in the Deneb System, during her first shore leave on her initial cruise. The Andorian at the bar was challenging all comers to a game of hands. The current player was a Klingon, who should have known better. The Andorian caused the Klingon to pull his hands free with a pretty good feint. The Klingon roared his displeasure and then laughed. He knew in this game he was outclassed.

After several more had fallen, the Andorian looked at the new Ensign who was sitting in a pose normally reserved for an adolescent student watching a teacher. The Andorian didn’t know that.

“Hey, Federation, how ‘bout you? You think you can beat me?” The man was drunk, and worse, didn’t know who he was challenging. At Ensign Kaaran’s table were the other first duty Ensigns. They urged her on, with only the Vulcan abstaining.

Kaaran’s reply, “You aren’t even a challenge,” was just gasoline on the fire.

The tall spare Vulcan Ensign spoke carefully to the Andorian. “You really aren’t a challenge, Sir. Her synaptic reflexes are far faster than yours could possible be, besides which you are inebriated and she is not.”

Wrong thing to say.

After a brief altercation, the Catian woman sat on the tabletop opposite the Andorian, who smelled bad. When the Klingon said go, Kaaran crossed her hands, delivering a hard slap to the Andorian on each hand and when she had finished she pulled her own hands back in place. Only the Vulcan had actually seen it. The Andorian denied it had happened. Billy Talbot, who would later get the Federation Medal of Valor posthumously, clapped his hands and pointed to the backs of the Andorian`s hands. 10 tiny droplets of blood were slowly growing. The large blue man then snarled, “My turn.”

She again bested him. This time she had tapped the back of his hands with a single finger before the Andorian’s brain had managed to get the signal to his hands. There were now 2 additional drops of blood welling on the back of the hands.

After the police cleared up the bar, there was no sign of the Star Fleet Ensigns. The young Vulcan sported a bruise on his forehead where a flying bottle had landed and the Catian woman was scratched along her flank, a result of someone swinging a chair leg at her.

The Ensigns laughed about the altercation until the Captain had called them in his office. He first yelled then it got worse. When he had finished, the rest were allowed to leave, and in the end, Kaaran stood alone before the Captain of the Star Ship Hamilton. He was a small human, thin and sporting a small Van Dyke. He motioned for her to sit, ordered coffee and while they waited he spoke to her.

“I know your father.”

Oh shit, she thought, here it comes.

“He would have done the same thing.” The man handed her a large heavy mug.

“You have to remember that out here, no one really knows what you are capable of.” The Captain leaned back in his chair. “I watched your father struggle with all sorts of bigotry, and he just bulled thru the mess. And after a while he got the respect he deserved. And he never even tried to intimidate anyone. Which I am glad to see you didn’t do. If you had, I would have sent you back to the academy.”

He finished and the silence stretched. After a while, the man smiled. “So Ensign, how hard did you try?”

The memory faded as she entered sickbay, which was very white. The Doctor greeted her. She handed her a red and white striped file cartridge and said, “What’s up Doc?” She grinned as she spoke, trying to mask the large canines. It was something she needed to work on.

Medical and a Chat
by Bob Brazeau and Romany Isaaisa

So, what`s up Doc?”
“Hello Lt. I`m Romany and you are a little late for your medical.” Romany smiled as she accepted the cartridge and placing it in her station read it quickly. “Okay while I am reading this is there anything you would like to tell me?” she asked softly (tag)

“Nope, I fixed a couple of things that needed fixing on the bridge, and other than the lack of fresh meat, everything is great. The Catian woman still stood on all fours.

“Kaaran please sit if you wish. I have no idea what your previous CMO`s attitude was with you but here I would rather you were comfortable.” Romany smiled as she looked up.

The woman plopped down, setting on her haunches; head, up ears twitching once to settle the rings hanging from her left ear.

“Okay.” Romany smiled as she removed the cartridge and offered it to the Catian woman. “I will add Kaaran I have never dealt with a Catian before so although I know your physiological data I do not know your culture or beliefs if I offend you please let me know.” Romany asked softly as she picked her tricorder up and walked towards Kaaran.

“No problem Doctor.” The medical officer smelled of good soap and some alien food.

“Kaaran unless we are on the bridge or somewhere we have to use ranks I would prefer Romany.” Romany smiled as she started to pass the tricorder over the Catian’s form.

“Surly, Romany.” The tail came up and appeared to watch as the Doctor ran her scan. Romany smiled as she passed the tricorder and spoke calmly as she did. “I agree there is a lack of fresh meat. Although the Gagh is rather good here.” She smiled. “Avoid their approximation of gumbo its a little bland.” she said with a smile.

“I will indeed. So, can you tell me what the Command staff is like, I mean, do they understand just where we are going?” The tail twitched. “Just so you know, I am here to get my father back.”

“I thought you were. Come in the office with me. We can talk in there.” Romany smiled as she looked at her nurse. “If any of the crew appear for their medicals inform me via the commbadge.” She said as she led the way to the office.

The Catian woman rose and followed the Doctor; she was silent in her passage. Romany waited till Kaaran was in the office and closed the door. “What would you like to drink Kaaran?” she asked in her customary soft voice.

“Chai, unless you have Jerez 05?”

“One Chai and a jasmine tea.” Romany smiled as she retrieved the glasses and handed one to Kaaran and sat on the floor. “Talk to me Kaaran. What is said in here stays here.” She said softly.

“This whole lash up concerns me. Why send a brand new ship, with a brand new crew into hostile territory. Especially a ship not designed for a fight. The Dominion might be broken here in the Alpha quadrant, but there, they are very powerful.” The Catian woman forced the claws back in. We are one very small ship heading in where very few have been. And we can`t fight well, we can`t run well, but we sure do look pretty. I fear a political reason for this. Normally a lost cruiser, full of 1st year Lt`s and ensigns would be a fleet wide call out.” The tail was in full motion now, swiping heavily along the floor. The only bright light is that we have Zees with us. And he is only here to find his son, And my Dad.”

“Okay well Kaaran I know why we are going there and I saw your fathers name on the roster and Zees son. But I really need you to stay calm and focused you are helms yes?” Romany asked soothingly. “Always. This looked like a good place to vent.” the Catian was calmer. She reached out and snagged the cup with her tail, transferring it to her hand. “Politics aside, I`m worried. my Dad is retired and this stint was a lark, just something to keep him from retiring fully. And the Captain on that ship has a lot of enemies, especially among his own people.” She paused, then set the cup out of reach of her tail. And then there is the report of the rock. Which you never heard from me.”

“Kaaran i said this was a private talk between us. Do not write this crew off so fast we have a few marines with us. I trained with the marines and I know our CoS is a former marine. I will make sure that I have a bed preprepared for a Catian okay? None of this gets mentioned outside this room. I promise you that.” Romany soothed.

Just concerned. I never served with ExCom before. At DefCom they were always kind of a joke, you know, the little daisy`s of the fleet, the pretty ships filled with pretty people. And any prejudgement is a bad thing.” She sat completely still for a moment. “Zees is coming.” she said.

“Okay Kaaran now your medical if you would like to wait here we can talk more if you wish Commander Zees to join us he may but it is your choice.” Romany said calmly as she rose lithely.

“Uncle Zees is always welcome. He knows I`m here.” She tapped the side of her forehead with her tail. Romany smiled. “Well would you mind waiting here while I prepare his medical assessment? If you want to turn the heating up in here please do.” Romany smiled realising the room was slightly cool even to her senses. “I won`t be long.” She assured her companion.

“It is fine for me, Since there are only for of hind kind in Star Fleet, a bit of advice?”

“What is that?” Romany asked.
Don`t run your tricorder too close to his head. Gorn are equipped with a type of electric field sensor, like terran sharks, but more sensitive and it tends to mess up electronics.
[22:06] jadewolfcub1: “Thank you Kaaran I would not have known that. They do not include it in training.” Romany smiled. “You all right in here?” she asked.

“Excellent. Good carpeting.” The Catian woman grinned, not too worried about startling a Klingon.
Romany laughed. “Carry on and I’ll scratch you behind the ears.” She chuckled. “And too think I was contemplating wood floors.”

The Catian lifted one big hand and popped a claw free. There were silver and gold tracings on the black claw. “Nah, they scratch too easy.” Well the ship had one good officer, besides Zees she thought.

Romany laughed. “When you get downtime remind me to take you to the holodeck and shoe you my home world I think you`ll like it.” She smiled. “I won’t be long.” She promised as she walked out of the door. “Hello Commander.” She called cheerfully.

Zees watched as the Doctor came into the main bay. He knew Wayland daughter was in the room beyond. The room was cool. “Doctor.”

“Would you care for the temperature to be raised?” Romany asked with a smile as she held her hand out. “I`m Romany.” She said with a smile.

The Gorn reached out and carefully took the hand in his. He chuckled. (Which sounded like a brick being dropped into a bag of broken glass. “I fear no one would survive my comfort zone.” He looked down at the floor. I`ll have my staff fix that, he said”, noting the deep indentations that his mass made in the deck plates. Actually, the light here is quite pleasant.”

Romany smiled. “Thank you for coming commander. Nurse raise the level to that of Kronos.” She stated calmly and added. “You may leave us until I call you. I amused to the heat I would not subject you to it.” She said. Turning back to the Gorn she smiled. “Is there anything you wish to tell me or ask while I run the tricorder over you?” She asked.

he Gorn shook his head, “not a thing commander. it is very pleasant here. Besides, I`m sure the cub has told you everything.” Romany smiled.

“Looks like I will have to tell you the same as I told the cub. Call me Romany. Kaaran told me bits but that we will discuss in my office. I was referring to your health or concerns you may have.”

The Gorn nodded again. As was I. At my age, I am familiar with most of my needs. However, I do thank you for your concern.” Romany nodded and closed her tricorder well Commander you are in excellent health. Would you car to accompany me to y office?” She asked calmly.

“Please lead on doctor.”

Romany walked ahead of him into her office and smiled at Kaaran. “Kaaran you know what your Uncle likes to drink would you get him a drink please?” she asked. The Catian woman walked to the replicator. “Jump start 1, steel bowl, quart size.” When it appeared, she gave it to the Gorn

“Kaaran would you be kind enough to get me another Jasmine tea please?” She asked softly as she sat on the floor once more in a cat like position.

The Catian did so, and then delivered it to the doctor. Once everyone was served the youngest stood, in an aquard post, placing herself between the height of the Doctor and her mentor and friend. The Gorn looked at her. “So, brat, told her everything?

: “Kaaran merely voiced concerns as a doctor I feel it is healthy to voice concerns before worry of a loved one clouds her performance as an officer. What is said in the 4 walls stays here.” She stated. “She is a good child. And one to be proud of. Does she hate this crew as well? The Gorn grinned. “She was a trial in the academy. I stuck with her because her father was so promising. I fear, however, she will be relegated to a garbage scow someday. The Gorn obviously liked her.

“The crew will learn to work with her. As far as I am concerned, Kaaran has treated me with respect and courtesy. I think she will be a fine officer. We were not here to discuss that. Kaaran has some concerns about your loved ones on the Victory.”

“My concern is more, political. If Chief Wayland and my son cannot handle what they face, then it is their time. The Gorn Assemblage is concerned with the dispute over the rock. Sensor reports showed an Andorian attack wind closing on Victory with hostile intent. When Federation member fight federation member, All are concerned. Besides, it is a chance to see where the forerunners came from, We think.” Romany nodded quietly assessing the information as he spoke. Turning to the young woman Romany asked. “Kaaran?”

“Yea, he gets all mushy about his kids.” She smiled at the Gorn. All 300 of them. And yes, Uncle would one to send. Everybody respect him, and his ability to broker peace.” Romany looked at Kaaran and spoke again. “No Kaaran your uncles concern is political but I think you need to say to him what your concern is.” Romany smiled at the young woman.

The Gorn looked at the doctor. “I know her fears. With everything riding on this, we expected a push. And we get,” he spread his arms. And the ship was never given a full shakedown, else the bugs would have been fixed.” Sean and I and others, fear something more going on. Does the situation make sense to you?

“None of this makes sense. In the 9 years I have served I gave up looking for sense and look for solutions instead. The ship and crew will perform to the very best of their abilities and with luck we will find the Victory has had a malfunction. Now Kaaran if you nee to talk then you know my door is always open or you can talk to the councillor he is a lovely man Lt. Commander Mor. It is up to you. Commander.” Romany turned her attention to the Gorn this time not using his given name as she had yet to be invited to. “If I hear of anything I will let you know what I can. The best I can say is not to look for problems. we have a few already.” She smiled.

As will we, Doctor.” The Gorn seemed unmoved by almost everything. “The Catian looked at the Doctor. “So, would you like to sample what our mess hall has to offer?” Romany smiled kindly.

“I would love to could I take a rain check. I have 5 other medicals due today please.” She smiled kindly.

Clues
by Captain Styles

Stardate 58825.8

After a small meeting with the counsleor in His quarters Styles had gotten a call from Lieutenant Furnell who had informed him that the Andorian Imperial Guard, Andor`s Self Defense Force as it was called.

“Captain Styles?”

Jeff was seated in his chair beind his desk in his quarters, “Yes May I ask who you are?”

“I am General Varga, Supreme Commander of the Andorian Imperial Guard.”

Jeff`s attention had been caught. “Go on.”

The General explained, “We have also lost three of our cruisers who were at a rendevouz point with the Victory. We have not heard from them since.”

Leaning forward to face his oppoent on the small viewscreen Jeff Said, “The Missouri will be arriving at Andor in Three Days General why the urgency?”

“The Vulcan Science Directorate have purseaded us that this unique scientific experiment on a Spyrocistan life-form that Admiral Janeway retreived from the Delta Quadrant was supposed to be delivered to us for experimentation.”

Styles was aware that many of Voyager`s objects they retreived were spread securely around the Federation for various analysis by VIP scientific peresonnel.

“And what is your beleif on this General?”

“It is in my opinion that Captain Utex of the Victory was able to sucessfully bring this life-form back to a state of life-sequences and thus could have resulted in the destruction of our sister ships.”

“I assure you General, Starfleet nor the Federation harbor any bio-genic weapons or any such research that could come as a result of any device or life-form that is in the Federation`s Ownership.” The Missouri Captain Explained.

“We will be transmitting the data we collected from our sister-ships prior to their untimely disapperance. I will hold you to your word that Starfleet is not responsible for the loss of our ships.”

“I give you my word and if such a thing did happen General I will be the first to personnally shut down any such experiment.”

“Very Well then, Good day Captain.” And the screen went blank.

Leaning backwards there was a look of perplexion on the face of the young Captain. Surely Utex couldn`t be responsible for the disapperance of three Andorian Ships.

Tapping his commnicator Styles said, “Mr. Furnell, I want you to route everything you can about the Voyager manifest to the science office have the First Officer, chief science officer, chief medical officer and the security chief meet me there in exactly fifteen minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

Getting up Styles wanted answers and all he had were clues with no clear motive as to what caused the disapperance but only clues.

Reluctant Medical
by Romany Isaaisa