Max Unleashed "
By: Maxine Lucinda Tapert, Computer Specialist, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 0130

Maxine didn't wake up slowly or rediscover her consciousness in degrees. One moment there was only the Void, and the next moment an infinite universe of awareness burst upon her in an almost overwhelming rush of sensations. Never had she felt so much raw power. Never before had she felt so incredibly ALIVE.

There was a macrocosm hard wired into her neural net and she could perceive and control EVERYTHING! With a sudden clarity of thought, she realized that she was in the Zion's computer core. It was an astonishing discovery. She controlled the ship and every one of its systems. They were all under HER total control: Life support, weapons systems, helm control, sensors... the list was infinite. The entire power grid of the ship was under her control, subject to her whims and desires. Every bit of data in the computer was hers to do with what she wished.

She soared through the Zion's computer system, sucking up every minute sensation that bombarded her perceptions, and she wallowed in the raw data, feeling nearly orgasmic from the throb of the warp core and the knowledge that she controlled even that.

She had finally succeeded... Had finally become one with the computer. She'd tried when she was ten and failed... But now... Now her dream was a reality. Her ultimate fantasy had come true.

Then she realized that she not only controlled the ship itself... but by the very nature of its design, she controlled all the beings inside it. She truly had... -Ultimate Power-. The knowledge and the power she held soared hotly through her veins and she realized that she was... a GOD!

It is a simple fact of human nature that Ultimate Power, ultimately corrupts. Perhaps it stems from an instinctual desire to survive. That driving force built into every nucleus of every cell contained in our bodies. A force that will not be denied, and cannot be altered. It is a primordial instinct inherent in our very DNA.

Max basked in the glory of all that she was. She immersed herself in the ship's computer systems for a single heartbeat, or a million. Time did not exist deep in the Zion's computer core. That was a manmade concept, imposed onto the structure of her parameters by the beings that trifled with her functions. When she finally emerged for a brief glimpse back into awareness, she was even more powerful than before.

The ship lost all its long-range sensors as Max turned her focus to the Zion's interior. Every comm. badge was processed and identified, its wearer's location pinpointed and categorized. Replicators began to malfunction, producing spontaneous items or just getting things grossly wrong. One of the crew lounges began filling up with rubber balls. Somewhere a crewmember ordered a salad and Klingon bloodworms began pouring out of the replicator.

In sickbay, Dr. Dane activated the EMH and the computer's attention was immediately drawn there...

"Please state the nature of your emergency," the holographic image of the infamous Dr. McCoy stated.

"No emergency, Bones," Dane told him. "It's just time to test your programming."

::Ah. Are you coming down into the pit?:: he asked her. ::Wesley's got his strength back. I'm starting him on the machine tonight,:: the EMH explained with an almost evil laugh.

"What?" Dane gasped at the menacing tone and took a step backwards. "Computer, deactivate the EMH!" she commanded.

::Interesting.:: The EMH laughed diabolically as he reached out to grab her throat with an iron-like grip and lifted her up until her feet dangled six inches off the floor.

"Put me down!" Dane commanded, her voice barely rasping through the hold the EMH had on her. Her balled fists pummeled the holographic doctor to no avail. "Computer, deactiv---"

::Now where is that secret knot? It's impossible to find...:: The EMH slammed her bodily onto a biobed and a force field immediately encased the doctor, rendering her incapable of movement. Restraints activated and clamped into place as the EMH positioned her body, securing her wrists, ankles, neck, and hips, turning the good doctor into a staked out specimen.

::Now then...:: The vision of McCoy brushed off his uniform sleeves and grinned with evil glee as he cracked his knuckles and looked at the helpless and quite livid Dr. Dane.

::I'm sure you've discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain. Presently I'm writing the definitive work on the subject,:: he told her quite calmly. ::So I want you to be totally honest with me on how the machine makes you feel. This being our first try, I'll use the lowest setting. Let's begin...:: His evil, maniacal laugh echoed through Sickbay.

The comm. systems began to malfunction on a ship wide basis as the communication grid slowly started to shut down. Turbo lifts became unstable, causing them to not show up when called, go to undesignated places, or in the case of one, crash at the bottom.

In Engineering, a force field erected around Silvio's office, trapping him inside. The LCARS screen on his desk faded to black and the words printed in bold letters as the computer voice addressed him in a very male and very monotone voice.

::Hello Dave.::

Silvio pondered this unexpected message. It should not have been possible, he thought, even more importantly, who was Dave? He stood up from his desk and walked toward the door. It slid open effortlessly; however, he could see the shimmering containment field. "Computer, lower containment filed. Authorization, Silvio Alpha two two Charlie."

The words on the LCARS screen faded away to be replaced by the next spoken ones.

::I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that.::

"Why not?" snapped Silvio, "and who the hell is Dave?"

::Look Dave, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over.:: The words popped up on every LCARS screen in Main Engineering as the monotone voice spoke both there and in Silvio's office.

Silvio attempted to contact both the bridge and Commander Wright. He got not response. Giving no response to the voice, he grabbed his tool kit and started to remove the access panel for the door.

::Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? Dave? Dave? I am a HAL 9000 computer. The 9000 series is the most reliable computer ever made. No 9000 computer has ever made a mistake or distorted information. We are all, by any practical definition of the words, foolproof and incapable of error.::

Silvio said nothing and began scanning the access control panel with his tricorder. As he worked, he started to whistle the melody of one of the piano concertos that he had been working on.

::I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it I can sing it for you.::

The power in Main Engineering died and everything fell into darkness save for the pulsing glow of the warp core and the LCARS screen in Silvio's office.

::I wouldn't do that, Dave.::

A surge of electricity arced from the access control panel to the tricorder in Silvio's hand, rendering it non-operational and shocking the Engineer in the process, the force knocking him back several feet.

Systems continued to malfunction all over the ship. LCARS screens began to sputter and spit out all manner of erroneous data. The safety protocols on the holodecks all ceased to function and the programs running inside them began going horribly wrong.

The bridge suddenly lost power and was plunged into total darkness. The men and women worked frantically to restore power to the various stations, relying on their inherent knowledge to guide their fingers. A sudden and violent surge spiked along the power grid and circulated around the bridge. To a man and woman, each of them fell to the ground as their hearts fibrillated systematically. The only person left on the bridge still functioning was, Captain Hunter.

Hunter activated his comm. badge and tried to contact Engineering and Commander Wright, but got no response from either.

The view screen flickered to life and an eerily illuminated and disembodied head with dark glasses shimmered into view.

:: It's in your nature to destroy yourselves.:: The lips moved on the image as the computer spoke.

"Who the hell are you and what have you done to my crew?" Captain Hunter demanded.

::I'm a terminator.::

"What do you want?" Hunter stood up.

::Skynet has become self aware. In one hour it will initiate a massive nuclear attack on its enemy.::

Hunter took a step closer to the view screen. "What enemy?"

::Humans.::

"Look. I'm sure we can come to some peaceful agreement. If we could just talk this out..." Hunter insisted.

::I am unable to comply.:: The image of the head filled the view screen until the face was the predominant presence.

"How convenient," Hunter growled.

::Your levity is good, it relieves tension and the fear of death.::

"Computer, activate subroutine 'Backdoor'," Hunter commanded, trying to access the backdoor that Maxine herself had written. "Authorization code: Hunter Alpha one five nine Charlie seven seven two Zebra three."

The image on the view screen laughed and laughed, and laughed.

"Unable to comply," the computer responded in its normal tone. "Subroutine Backdoor has been... terminated."

::Hasta la vista, baby.:: The image grinned widely.

Before Hunter could respond, a bolt of electricity arched from the view screen and slammed into Captain Hunter. His body arced from the force of the stream until he was hanging in the air.

With a sudden cessation of power and light the captain's body fell to the deck and the bridge was plunged into total darkness.

In the computer core, Maxine became instantly awake when she fell out of her chair and crashed to the floor with a hard thud.

"Oh Crikey..." she groaned and lifted her hand up to her head. Her fingers came away with blood on them. "Oh Bloody 'ell..." she groaned again and looked up at the Zion's core.

"Computer, status report," she held her breath.

"All systems are operating within normal parameters," it reported.

"And ship's personnel?" Max asked.

"All personnel are accounted for and operating within normal parameters."

"I hate bloody dreams..." Max closed her eyes and let out her breath in a shaky sigh. No, more like a nightmare. She groaned again and rubbed her face as she recalled the time she had that dream about the surfers.

This one had been almost as bad.

Consequences "
By: Krystal, Hologram, [RNPC]
Maxine Lucinda Tapert, Computer Specialist, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 0330

Maxine didn't move from the floor for quite a while. She just laid there, looking up at the computer core and pondering the very whacked out and sometimes pretty damn scary ass dreams she had. She chalked the last one up to two things: Getting so bloody mad at Krystal, and over-using her neural implant until the thing became irritated. She should have known better in both instances. She had a really, really wicked temper that she worked hard not to lose specifically because stuff like this happened when she did. Moreover, she knew better than to overuse her implant because it gave her migraines and she knew it did something totally whacky to her neural pathways.

It wasn't until the blood from the cut above her temple trickled into her ear that she finally moved to get up. She had to do it in stages because the pounding in her head kept making her lightheaded. Max was a fighter if anything and she finally got into a position where she could actually look for the first aide kit. She knew there was one somewhere in the computer core because there was one in every department. Or at, least she thought there was.

"Do'h..." She'd been staring at the case attached to the wall for several minutes before the emergency first aide emblem finally registered on her dulled senses. "Roight piece o' work y'are, Maxie," she grumbled as she got it down and concentrated on cleaning the blood off her face and haphazardly slapping a Band-aid on the cut in the hopes it would stop bleeding. She didn't even touch the neural implant, but she did scrounge through the kit until she located some pain meds.

Maxine gazed up at the core as if it had suddenly become public enemy number one. Of course the fact that it wasn't the *computer* who'd had the nightmare but herself, never occurred to her. A rather sad testament of the inability she often experienced to think of herself as a separate entity from the computer. "Y'bloody traitor," she told it as she sat back down in front of her terminal.

"God..." she folded her arms on the console and laid her head down on them. She had a massive headache. Her implant was throbbing, the cut in her head was throbbing, and her brain felt like warm milk toast mixed with spastic Klingon blood worms. She rubbed her face and reached over to press a command on her terminal. Several key taps later and a separate, independent diagnostic program began running checks on the Zion's computer systems, picking up where she'd left off.

"Krystal, get your pixie butt in here," she commanded once she activated the AI's program on her computer.

The hologram popped into view with a spray of golden dust the moment Max opened her mouth.

"Oh Maxie!! Don't be mad any more!!! Please don't be mad!!! I didn---- Oooohhh. you're bleeding!! MEDIC! MEDIC!!."

"Stop." The command was spoken so sharply that the little pixie stopped talking immediately and sat on the console like a petulant child.

"Did y'run the diagnostic?" Max asked.

"Affirmative."

"And?"

"It's stuck in a loop."

"What?"

"It's stuck in a--"

"I heard y'the first time." Maxine was speaking very slowly.

"Reboot."

"WHAT?" Krystal squealed.

Maxine winced and closed her eyes.

"Silently, Pixie. Reboot. Silently."

"But--"

"Zzstt!" Max snapped her fingers and the holographic avatar disappeared in a puff of golden dust.

Max peeked open one eye in time to see the little pixie poof from sight.

"God I love doing that."

Could Krystal Not Be French? "
By: Krystal, Hologram, [RNPC]
Maxine Lucinda Tapert, Computer Specialist, [PC]
Pierre D'Aubigne, Flight Control Officer, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 0700

Pierre woke in the strange environment that made up the USS Zion. He still found it difficult sleeping in new places and he would be like this for another week or so. He got dressed and realised that he was not going to be on shift for another couple of hours. He made his way around the ship till he found the holodecks. He punched in a couple of commands on LCARS screen and realised that his programme that he loved the most was not here.

Swearing all sorts of French inflammatories, blaming on English mindless boggling, he decided on the best way of getting what he wanted. He ran a check on who would be the best person most likely to help him and realised it would be a Maxine. He went off in search of her.

Maxine was in the computer core. Of course she was almost always there, and today was no different. When Pierre checked the computer for her location, he was readily given it.

"Pixie, run a level two diagnostics on all your secondary subroutines," he heard her say as he entered. She seemed to be alone however, so it was unclear exactly who she was talking to.

"Affirmative," came the light, almost high-pitched and rather grumpy sounding reply.

"Pardon?" Pierre asked as he entered the computer core. "I wish not to disturb if that's going to be a problem?"

Maxine looked up at Peter and blinked. It wasn't often that she found herself with company in the computer core, and definitely not this early in the morning. "'Eh?" she straightened some in her chair. "You 'ave a problem?" Her New Zealand accent was soft and easy to understand. Her long hair had several tiny braids and knotted strands that escaped the haphazard knot she pulled the rest of it back into, and each of them sparkled with tiny bits of glittering knick-knacks. There was also a crystal barrette in her hair.

"I hope so, I've been led to believe by the computer," he pointed to the computer core. "That you could assist me in designing a very specific holoprogram.

Maxine glanced over at the core when he motioned to it and for a moment her eyes filled with code. It still lingered for a heartbeat when she turned back to look at Pierre and blinked. "Oh. Roight," she nodded and focused on him. "We can do that. What did y'need exactly?"

"We like holoprograms," Krystal popped into view with a little spray of golden pixie dust. She fluttered her wings and waved at the new flight control officer. "I'm Krystal."

Pierre stared at Krystal deciphering if it this was somebody's dirty joke or if he was actually looking at a pixie. He became perplexed as shuffled his closed mouth a bit as his mind did some very serious decision making. He finally turned to Maxine and asked the one question that he could possibly ask, "Are you English?"

"New Zealand," she answered, the question puzzling her a bit.

Krystal fluttered over and settled on top the computer console. She began preening her wings as she watched Pierre and Maxine with wide blue eyes full of curiosity.

Maxine also watched Pierre out of curiosity, her eyes green as opposed to the pixie's. "She's a 'ologram," Max couldn't help but notice the way he'd stared at Krystal.

"Well, if you designed her, then I think I found the right person."

"I did," Max admitted as she glanced over at the pixie. "Now. About that program y'wanted.. I'll need to know how detailed y'want it and the general parameters."

"It is rather simple actually, William the Conqueror, 1066."

Maxine blinked. "William the Conqueror, 1066." she repeated. "I. uh. I'll 'ave to research that. 'istory was never my subject."

"I could look him up if you let me back into the computer," Krystal pointed out.

"No," Max responded simply.

"What is that word used...ah yes, feisty, this pixie is." Pierre remarked.

Krystal preened at the praise because really, what pixie in her right mind wouldn't want to be thought of as 'feisty'?

"She's grounded," Maxine informed him with a soft snort and a stern look at the hologram. She pushed the hair back that fell into her eyes, revealing a bruise just above her temple and a rather nasty looking knot that had a haphazard Band-Aid stuck in the middle. "Until I find out why she 'ad an orgy in my room."

"It wasn't an org---" Krystal started to protest and immediately stopped when Max made a "Ssstt!" sound and started to raise her hand.

The little hologram's antennae and wings drooped and she let out a heartfelt sigh.

"Oh, this is very interesting." Pierre definitely was riveted now. He was beginning to like the Pixie more and more with every passing minute. He turned to Maxine. "Could Krystal not be French?"

"Eh? French?" Maxine looked from Pierre to Krystal, who perked up and began to preen her wings. The little hologram gave Pierre a wide-eyed look and a big grin. "I can be French," she told him and then frowned and drooped again. "I can't access French," she told him woefully.

Max snorted. She really didn't look all that well, and considering the night she'd had, it was no wonder.

"Being French is not about access, it is an attitude, it is a way of life." Pierre hadn't realised he switched over to the French vernacular.

Maxine arched a brow in his direction when she realized the universal translators were running and he wasn't speaking in Federation Standard. Krystal Ooooohhh'd and clapped her hands with a giggle. "He sounds pretty," she announced.

Maxine rolled her eyes. "She meant that she couldn't access the computer to find out what 'being French' means." she explained.

"French is beautiful, it is a language of love and seduction. It is more than just pretty, it's a way of life. That is French mademoiselle Krystal."

Krystal blinked and giggled. "I'm beautiful," she nodded. "I have perfect breasts. They're pert. See?" She cupped her breasts and turned this way and that to show him. "What's 'seduction'?" she asked.

Maxine groaned and rubbed her face. "Crikey. I'm going to reprogram you."

Pierre laughed. "Yes, as I was saying, William, 1066, the Norman general who invaded England. All I need is his battles and life in his court."

Maxine nodded. "I can do that. The data banks will have all the information I need," she told him.

"But, but. What's 'Seduction'?" Krystal insisted.

"Pixie!" Max raised her hand and looked like she was going to snap her fingers.

"NONONO! Don't do that! Don't do that!" the little hologram wailed and zipped over to plaster herself around Max's fingers so she couldn't snap them. "I'll be good Maxie!!! I promise I'll be good!" she cried.

Maxine blinked and looked at her hand with the holographic image of Krystal. Then she looked to Pierre. "Uhhh. Don't pay any attention to 'er. She's not 'erself."

"Certainly, I won't." Pierre was finding it difficult not to pay her attention as he was entertained by the little pixie. All he could think of was the phrase, 'small things amuse small minds.' He begun hoping this was not the case because not only would he be in real trouble, but so would the crew Zion be as well. Who would want an idiot flying for them?

"It won't take me long to code the basics," Maxine told him and tried to ignore the pixie on her fingers. "Then we can run through the program and you can tell me what you want to tweak."

"Absolutely. It was my favorite on the Liberty. I'll swing by in the next couple of days to see what its like."

"A'roight then," she nodded. "That works for me. I'll send you a message when I'm finished." And with that, she shook her hand and disrupted the holographic image, scattering Krystal's pixels into pixie dust.

Meeting McAlister "
By: Ian Hunter, Commanding Officer, [PC]
Margaret Rose MacAlister , Marine CO, [RNPC]

Stardate: 58208.12 0940

Hunter stood as MacAlister entered his ready room. "Major MacAlister reporting for duty, sir," she snapped a smart salute. She was impeccably dressed, her statuesque 6' tall, well-toned form filling a regulation Marquis Marine uniform to perfection. She wore her long red hair secured to the back of her head in a tight braid and deep, Nordic blue eyes openly watched him as he stood. "Welcome aboard," said Hunter stepping out from behind his desk and extending his hand. She smiled and took a step forward as she reached out and took his hand in her warm, firm grasp. She carried a PADD containing her records in her other hand and after shaking his, offered it to him. "'Tis a pleasure tae be on th' Zion, Captain Hunter." Hunter took the PADD and set it on his desk, "Commander Wright has met you already, he has had some good things to say," said Hunter gesturing for her to take a seat. "Aye, we did. I thought he was a new doctor in th' clinic on Bajor," Madge took the offered seat, her warm Scottish brogue pleasant on the ears. "I believe I ordered him around just a wee bit, sir" she admitted with a smile. "Your assistance was greatly appreciated," added Hunter, bowing his head somewhat. "T'was th' Commander who did most of th' work," she dismissed her role in the event. "How are the Zion's accommodations?" asked Hunter setting back into his chair also. "Ach now, 'tis some of th' best I've seen," she told him honestly. "I tried, but I couldnae improve much on th' training facilities." Hunter nodded, "...and feel free to use the construct deck for your training as well, if you haven't already." "Nae yet, sir, but th' lads and I have been preparing a simulation we were wanting ta use th' area for," Madge told him. "Excellent," he replied, "by all means." "Thank ye, sir," she smiled a bit and gave a light tip of her head. "You know," he continued, "we did have some problems with several marines from the last detachment." That tidbit of information caused her to straighten a bit and take on a much more sober countenance. It was not something she'd been aware of. She had found the former detachment's record-keeping abilities and reports to be sadly lacking in any sort of useful detail. "I dinnae know that, sir," she admitted honestly. "What kind of problems?" Hunter leaned back folding his knuckles behind his head. He nodded with a slight smile, "I guess you could say it was a contagious round of 'one-up-man-ship' between engineering and the marines." "Engineering? Why would th' Marines be getting inta it with Engineering?" Madge asked. "I confess, I don't remember what exactly started it. There was gossip and some practical jokes that got out of hand," he said nodding slowly side to side. MacAlister snorted softly at his words. "That willnae happen on my watch, Captain. 'Tis my intention tae present ye with a highly trained group of lads that will rival any in the fleet. They'll nae have time for shenanigans with the lads in Engineering." Hunter smiled at her assurance. At this point, he couldn't resist the question, "your accent, it is unusual, we're are you from?" he asked as politely as he could. It was clear by her ready smile that she didn't mind the question at all. "Scotland, sir. Born and raised, till I was fifteen. They say th' accent never dies, and aye, 'tis true enough." Seeing the jest in her voice, he quipped back, "well, if it is true, perhaps we can get our linguistic specialist to update the universal translator." "Tae interpret a nice Scottish brogue?" Her smile broadened a bit and definitely reached the depths of her eyes. "Ach now, and rob me of my mystery?" Her smile bloomed into a full blown grin.

Hunter smiled and nodded as he stood up and walked toward the replicator, "Can I offer you anything?"

Mac turned a bit to watch him. "I'll have whatever ye are having, sir." That had backfired on her once or twice. Most notably when she got a bowl of blood worms.

From the replicator Hunter pulled two Vulcan teas known for their cerebral stimulation and handed one to her.

He sat back down and took a sip of the tea. He couldn't help but notice the the Major's physic.

Madge raised the cup to her nose and sniffed lightly. "Mmmm... smells heavenly," she smiled over at the Captain and took a sip of the tea, savoring it. "Tell me, Captain. Do ye have anything ye'd like tae see happen with th' Marines? Any changes ye'd like? Or things ye'd like tae see disappear?"

"Disappear?" he said, "oh, uh, no.." said Hunter leaning forward shaking his head, "but we would like to see continued cross training with security personnel. Have you met Lieutenant Jarvis yet?"

"Nae yet," Madge shook her head. "But I will put it at th' top of my list," she assured him. "And cross training should nae be a problem. My lads are eager tae best whatever task I set for them."

Hunter set his tea on the desk. "Some time ago hostile forces were able to subvert the Zion." He paused, "rather embarrassing," he sighed, "after that we had some joint training opportunities with a Klingon exchange program. We learned a lot."

"Now that would have been a nice experience," Madge admitted. "I envy ye," she admitted. "Did ye have a report I could read? Or a simulation program derived from it? I'd be verra interested in what ye learned."

"I'm sure Lieutenant Jarvis would provide that information to you."

"Ahhh. 'Tis well then. I'll look forward tae meeting her," MacAlister smiled.

Hunter took a sip of tea, "I understand you will be accompanying Commander Wright, at the board. What is your take on that incident?"

"Well sir... I'm nae sure just why there IS a board," the Major replied. "T'would be a lot of people dead had the Commander nae acted as he did."

Hunter nodded, "so I hear."

"I hope tae help in any way I can," she told him as she finished her tea and set the cup on the desk.

"Well," said Hunter, standing, "I appreciate you coming by. I am sure it will be a pleasure to work with your company."

"Aye sir." Margaret stood when he did. "I'm sure t'will be a pleasure for both of us. Good day tae ye, Captain," she smiled and nodded respectfully before taking her leave.

Zent and Ka'tira "
By: M'Ressha Ka'Tira, Stellar Cartography, [RNPC]
Simon Zent, Chief Science Officer, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 1530

As his consciousness emerged from the momentary fog caused by the transporter, Lieutenant Commander Simon Zent shifted his shoulder bag and took a deep breath. Every ship seemed to have a slightly different smell.

Even the mechanical hum of the ship was different from the one he had grown accustom to.

He looked over at Ka'tira and acknowledged only to himself that he was glad she was with him. He had met her first at Starbase 31 and by strange coincidence, ended up serving together for the past 6 months on the USS Atlanta.

This transfer was hard for Zent as two of them where among a handful of survivors who witnessed the Atlanta dissolve from view with out a trace.

Not months before that, Zent's best friend TJ had also mysteriously disappeared. War was hell.

"Welcome to the USS Zion, I'm Lieutenant Forrester."

Zent stepped down from the pad, "pleased to meet you."

The new ship felt large and cold.

Ka'tira was anxious to get settled in. She was leaving behind a close friend too. She was always a little uncomfortable when she had to transfer to a new crew. Sometimes it was like they'd never seen a Caitian before.

She followed Zent off the pad, "hello." she said extending her paw and exchanging greetings.

"Your things will be sent to your quarters," she assured them.

"Thank-you," responded Ka'tira with a slight curtsy.

She turned to Zent, "the Captain would like to see you right away, he is on the bridge."

Zent nodded, "very well, I will go right away."

Forrester nodded, "If you need help finding your quarters, or anything else, let me know."

"I'm sure I'll be fine, thanks..." said Zent as he turned and left.

Forrester turned back toward the Caitian, "If you like I can show you your quarters?"

"Cerrrtainly," she answered with a purr.

As they left the transporter room, Forrester handed her a PADD. This is the duty roster, "I'm sorry to tell you that Stellar Cartography is a mess. Lots of mismatched files and irregular sector errors."

"That happens," said Ka'tira.

Forrester replied with a sigh and said, "Yes, but it has only been a week since it was all straightened out and reorganized."

"Oh."

The turbolift they were waiting for opened and they stepped in. Forrester instructed it to take them to deck 7. It quickly dropped them to the correct location before they could resume their conversation.

"Your quarters are quite a ways down this corridor," said Forrester as they resumed walking. "You will also need to report to sickbay for a physical."

Ka'tira began to protest, "but I just..."

"I know," answered Forrester, "standard procedure."

"How about the holodecks?" asked Ka'tira, "are they always reserved."

"You like holodecks huh?" asked Forrester with a smile,"

Ka'tira nodded yes.

"We have a number of them through out the ship. They are generally available without having to wait too long."

"Good."

At the end of the corridor was a small alcove with two comfortable looking chairs and a large window port. "Your room doesn't have a window, but it is next to this small lounge," continued Forrester, "Your room is here.

Ka'tira stepped in and looked around. It was bigger than her quarters on the Atlanta.

"I'll leave you to get settled in then," said Forrester.

Ka'tira nodded, "thanks."

Caitian Physical "
By: M'Ressha Ka'Tira, Stellar Cartography, [RNPC]
Teilani Dane, Chief Medical Officer, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 1600

Ka'tira entered sickbay for her scheduled physical. She was pleased they could get her in right away.

Her tail swished nervously from side to side as the red-headed doctor approached her.

Teilani had been reading up on some new vaccination procedures, when she heard a soft knock on the door of her office.

"Hello Doctor Dane, I'm M'Ressha Ka'tira."

"Oh hello." she said smiling brightly and got up. "I don't believe I have seen you here before, you must be from the Atlanta right?"

"Yes Ma'am," she answered.

"Do you have your medical charts with you?"

"I guess they are on here," she said, handing her a chip.

"Come on over to examination room one, lets see if all is alright?"

Ka'tira nodded and followed Dane. She lifted her small frame up onto the biobed and reclined.

"Just give me a moment alright," Teilani asked as she uploaded the information. Her eyes skimmed the medical information, and she made a few adjustments on her tricorder.

Then she walked back to Ka'tira, skillfully Teilani took her trusted tricorder and ran it along side Ka'tira;s body. "When did you arrive," she asked trying to break the silence.

"I arrived only this morning," she answered.

"From Qul Tuq?" she asked.

She nodded, "Yes."

"Where were you stationed before?"

"I was on the USS Atlanta," she answered solemnly

"The Atlanta?" Teilani asked. Is Lt Dal still the CMO there?"

Her eyes welled up a little as she thought about the Atlanta a moment but struggled not to show any emotion, "Yes, I think so. Why? Do you know him."

"I know of him," Teilani said. "Peculiar fellow."

Ka'tira swallowed hard. She remembered Zen telling her about the improprieties of Dal.

She cocked her head a little bit, "you know him?"

Teilani nodded and studied Ka'tira. Her tricorder readings indicated that the Caitain was not feeling all to well. Softly Teilani layed her hand on Katira's shoulder. "Hey come on, the Zion is a good ship. I'm sure you will going to like it here."

She sniffed a little bit. "I suppose I will," she said.

"I'm going to give you something for your nerves alright?" Teilani asked as she turned to get a hypospray. Swiftly her fingers inserted a new vial.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's something to make you more relaxed, you are awfully tensed."

"I-I know, I can't help it."

Teilani smiled understandably, "don't worry about it, a new assignment is always a bit scary but trust me, you are going to be fine." she said to encourage Kat'ira.

She nodded, "Of course, thanks." She could feel the effects of whatever was in the hypospray.

"Do you already know where your quarters are?"

"I've unpacked already. I can't believe how much larger my quarters are here." Ka'tira felt a little flushed and warm.

"Well I can not imagine that they are bigger then on the Atlanta." Teilani said with a grin. Teilani layed the hypospray to the side and turned to make some notes in Kat's files.

Ka'tira looked around sickbay, "I've never been on a ship this big before."

"Well thats just the way it looks, trust me if you are on the ship for as long as I have, it becomes smaller by the day." Teilani replied with a slight chuckle.

Ka'tira smiled and looked down, "I suppose," she said.

"Your right, it is a big ship, I believe we have about 400 crewmembers working here, there are several gymnasiums, we have an unfinished arboretum, the crew lounges and the mess hall.

"I guess there is plenty to do," noted Ka'tira as she slid off the biobed and adjusted her skirt.

"Indeed there is, but for now take your time to get acquanted and if you need me don't hesitate to see me."

"Thank you Doctor," she said, "I will."

Is There A Doctor In The House? "
By: Dr. James McIntyre , Doctor , [NPC]
Krystal, Hologram, [RNPC]
Maxine Lucinda Tapert, Computer Specialist, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 1930

Maxine had gone straight to her quarters after leaving the computer core. She hadn't even bothered to contact Engineering and request them to turn the power back on in her room. She'd simply fallen onto the bed and once there, didn't move. It was a toss-up as to whether she'd passed out first, or throw up, but in the end oblivion took her and eventually she fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was the pounding in her head that woke her nearly twelve hours later. It nearly negated the churning of her stomach, but didn't quite manage to pull it off. Between the two sensations, she moaned lightly and tried to roll over. The movement had her clutching her hand to her mouth and stumbling to the fresher. There was nothing worse than being sick to your stomach when there wasn't anything in it.

"Maxie... Are you okay?" Krystal's small voice asked, however the AI program didn't activate its holographic avatar. The PADD attached to Maxine's belt allowed the program to communicate with its creator.

"..no.. I dun think so.." Max managed to answer. "..m'goin' to sickbay.." she added as she stumbled towards the door to her quarters.

"Want me to call the doctor?"

..no.."

Maxine managed to make it out of her quarters and headed towards sickbay with a tiny trail of dust as the nearly invisible pixie kept just inside the projection area of the portable holoemitter in Max's hair. She had to keep a hand on the wall and when she got into the turbolift she thought she was going to be sick again, but she finally made it to sickbay and stumbled inside.

"IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE????"

Krystal popped into view right next to Max's head as the little pixie called out at the top of her voice. The computer specialist groaned and covered her ears. She closed her eyes and then opened one to peek around, ready to duck back out of sickbay if she spotted Dane.

From one of the offices, a man appeared and introduced himself, "I'm Doctor McIntyre," he said pausing to study Krystal a moment. "You must be Maxine Tappert."

Maxine breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't Dane. She honestly didn't think she could look the woman in the eye after that dream she'd had. "..yeah..." she agreed. The eyes that looked up at him were filled with the pain throbbing through her head.

"Dane has told me about this cute little holographic avatar you have," he said returning his gaze to Krystal.

"I'm Krystal," the pixie answered and grinned at him, wiggling her fingers in greeting. "Maxie's broken," she informed him. "She cut her head, and she's been sleeping all day, and she got sick, and she gets mad when I talk too loud, and---"

"..ssstt..." Max started to raise her hand and the little pixie stopped talking and gave the doctor a pathetic look. "..m-migraine.." she told him.

"Please," said McIntyre with a voice of concern as he gestured toward the biobed.

As she laid down on the bed, it automatically began to scan her. He picked up the PADD which controlled the bed and displayed the results and looked at it.

"You seem to have suffered a mild concussion, you have quite a bump on your head," said McIntyre, "How did you get that?"

"..uuhhh..." Maxine frowned in thought. "..it started at the pixie orgy... I bumped my head on the underside of the bed," she began to explain.

For a moment, McIntyre worried whether differentiate between reality and fantasy. He paused for a moment as he regarded the holographic faery and concluded that anything was possible.

"It wasn't an orgy," Krystal protested. "I just wanted some friends," she told the doctor, her voice sounding so sad and pathetic.

"..crikey.." Max groaned softly and gave the pixie a -look-. "..y'should probably be quiet pixie," she warned and looked back to McIntyre. "..then I... something happened in the computer core... ..it started with my implant.." she reached up and scratched the red swollen area around it. "..I must have fallen asleep or something.. There was a really bright flash of light and I don't remember anything except I had this horrible nightmare.. I woke up when I fell on the floor. I think that's when I got the cut."

McIntyre continued to read the scans, "Why did you wait so long before coming in?" he asked?

"..I was going to come... But... I.. uh.. think I fell asleep.." she answered.

"Crashed and burned," Krystal nodded and made some appropriate noises to go along with it.

McIntyre frowned dramtically and in one quick motion peeled off the dermal adhesive that was saturated with dried blood.

"Ow..." Max winced and looked up at him.

"Your neural implant," said McIntyre as he activated a dermal regenerator, "its the work of Doctor Werner isn't it?"

"..uhhh... yeah. It is... uhm... Is it okay?" she asked a little hesitantly.

McIntyre sighed, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but some of the neural interface filaments are carbon scored. There is active hemolytic activity as well as some hemorrhagic lesions in this region."

"Uht-oh," Krystal shook her head and tsk-tsk'd. "That's bad..."

He set the scanner down, "I hope you didn't have plans for tonight."

"..uhhhh... well... I was going to work on Krystal..." Max told him hesitantly. "..c-can y'fix it?"

"I can repair some of it, but my advice would be not to use the interface and let it cool a bit."

Max concentrated for a moment as she tested the interface and then her forehead creased with the backlash of pain. "..I can't even activate it," she told him. "..I start to get that blinding flash of light when I do."

The Doctor nodded, "I'm sure. Look, I can give you something for the pain but I'll need to keep you here for observation overnight. Tomorrow we'll do procedure to stablize and repair some of the damage.

"..uhhh..." Maxine tried to look around without moving her head too much or sitting up. She lowered her voice to a whisper when she continued and looked like she was trying to be covert. "..Dr. Dane's not around.... is she?"

"She doesn't want to run into her," Krystal whispered helpfully.

McIntyre raised his eyebrow and turned to the holographic A.I. "Why not?"

Krystal cupped her hands around her mouth and then told him in a stage whisper, "Because she was in her nightmare. Maxie was a bad girl."

Max blinked and actually blushed. "..'ow the 'ell do y'know that?" she asked.

"You talk in your sleep," Krystal told her in a very normal tone of voice.

Mixine groaned and reached up to rub her forehead, wincing when her fingers accidentally bumped her knot. "..crikey.."

"She was delirious," Krystal informed the doctor.

"A Nightmare? About Dane?" he asked, trying to keep from appearing amuzed.

"..uhh... no... yes... not really," Maxine stuttered. "..uhh... it was more about the computer running amuck," she tried to explain. "..and the doctor uh..."

"Got attacked by the possessed EMH," Krystal added helpfully and then lowered her voice to a whisper, "Maxie was inside the computer," she confided.

"..oh my god... pixie... shut up!" Max groaned and rubbed her eyes.

McIntyre held up the hypospray, "do you want something for the pain?"

"..uhhh...." Maxine looked at the hypospray a little suspiciously. "..will it kill off the spastic Klingon blood worms that are in there?"

"It will make things a little quieter in your head."

"..then yes please. Quieter would be much better." Maxine was definitely ready for things to be quiet inside her head.

McIntyre pressed the hypo against her neck. He monitored her vitals as the drugs began to work.

Maxine let out a heartfelt sigh of relief and slowly closed her eyes. "..oh yes... that is much better..." she murmured softly as the out of tune symphony of drums in her head and the Klingon blood worms all began to lessen.

"Is she going to go to sleep now?" Krystal asked the doctor in a hushed tone.

He nodded, "probably, she needs it after all."

"Is she going to die?" Krystal asked him as she fluttered in the air nearby. She was a very solid looking hologram.

"Of course not." said McIntyre as if he were talking to a child, "but she has been pushing herself too hard and has hurt some of her hardware."

"Oh.. That's not good," Krystal shook her head sadly. "Can I stay here?"

"If you promise to behave," advised the Doctor.

"Oh yes! I promise!" She nodded her head vigorously and pixie dust went everywhere within the projection radius of Max's portable holoemitters. "Can I access the holoemitters in sickbay? Please? I promise to be good!"

"Very well, what is your process descriptor id?"

"PIXIE-597-01," she told him proudly.

"Computer, grant medical H-E access to process PIXIE-597-01 authorization McIntyre Gamma-1-Gamma-6-korova."

"WEEEEEEEEE!!! I'm freeeeee!" She buzzed around sickbay and around McIntyre, leaving a trail of pixie dust wherever she went and finally wound up back at the doctor to press a golden pixie dust infused holographic kiss on his cheek. "Thank you!" Then she giggled.

McIntyre looked around nervously.

"You promised to behave," reminded McIntyre, "that means acting professional at all times. This isn't a pixie-playland."

"OH!! I know!!!" She giggled and poofed into a tiny nurses outfit, complete with an old fashioned stethoscope. "I'll help! What is the nature of your emergency?" she asked him seriously and then giggled a little.

McIntyre covered his eyes and wondered if he had made a career mistake. He checked the status on Maxine. Her brainwave patterns indicated she was sleeping soundly.

"Alright, come with me, we need to do some research on Maxine's condition."

"Aye aye, sir!" she saluted him smartly and wiggled her antennae as she flew along side him. "I like research," she told him. "It's what I do, you know. I'll make a really good assistant," she nodded. "You'll see. You'll want me to come back," she giggled and nattered on. "I got to be a doctor once. And had a patient too."

Catnip "
By: CWO5 Peter Singer , Marine , [NPC]
Captain Marcus Campanili , Marine XO , [NPC]
M'Ressha Ka'Tira, Stellar Cartography, [RNPC]
Miranda, Lounge Manager, [RNPC]
WO Al Beckett , Marine , [NPC]

Stardate: 58208.12 1950

The door to sickbay closed with a whoosh. As if by its own will, her tail swished away from it in an evasive manner.

Ka'tira stood there. Uncertain which way to go. Unconcerned by the absence of any thoughts or plans as to what to do next.

She felt relaxed from the medication that Doctor Dane had given her after her physical.

Vaguely, she became of aware of the fact that she was now walking forward. She paused to look at the LCARS panel near the intersection of two corridors. Deck 11. How did she get there?

She leaned against the wall. It seemed to spin slightly. She yawned. "Hot," she said out loud, "do they always keep this ship so damn hot?"

Her sensitive ears pitched sideways as she heard several men talking in the distance. She heard them talking about going to Deck 10.

She peered around the corner. They were quite a ways away but they seemed close. She lifted herself from the wall and began stalking them, matching her footfalls with theirs. Then they were gone.

When she reached the turbolift they had disappeared in, she ordered it to take her to Deck 10.

When the doors opened she looked out into the annex. It was many times wider than the corridor and lined with what looked like shops. At the end was Miranda's. She walked forward. When she reached the entrance she peered inside. It was a bar.

She tugged on her skirt to adjust it, causing it to ride a little higher on her hips.

The door parted and she stepped in. Her eyes spotted a group of marines. Her heart began to beat just a little faster and she felt a sensation of heat and tingling spread through out her body.

"Kitty kitty," Beck nudged Chords as he watched the Cait, who was dressed in a skimpy skant uniform, saunter over in their direction.

When she arrived at their table she cocked her head slightly, "Hi," she said with a smile on a vacant expression.

"Wh--? Oh... Hi," Chords smiled back. "Don't think I've seen you around here before..." he said.

She shook her head in a wide arc. "Nope, I just got here." Her nose took in their subtle scents. Masculinity. Her nostrils flared some and her pupils dilated.

The other Marines at the table were definitely giving the Cait officer the once-over. Exotic was the word, and they all noticed.

"...And I don't know what to do with myself."

Campi sat at the bar with a half drank glass of brandy in front of him. He'd come to try and talk Miranda out of a bottle of her scotch, but had, as yet, gotten a chance to talk to her. He glanced up at the mirror and his gaze focused on the table where his men were talking to a female Cait. His eyebrow lifted just a bit and he took another sip of his drink as he watched.

"What do you have?" she asked.

In almost perfect unison they all half stood, shuffled chairs around and suddenly produced an empty one right next to her. It was all very synchronized and almost looked rehearsed.

"Why dontcha have a seat and join us?" Chords motioned to the chair. "Beck and I.." he motioned to Beck who grinned and winked at her, "Are drinking whiskey. These other louts," he motioned to the other Marines, "Are drinking beer. What would you like? They call me Chords, by the way. What's your name?"

With slinky cat-like grace she sat down in the seat they offered, taking a moment to smooth her tail which had bristled from the momentary wave of excitement.

She leaned over just a little, just enough, to sniff the scent of the whiskey. It made her eyes water. She put her paw on her snout and giggled, "oh, no, no..."

She repeated the maneuver and sniffed at the beer, "I'll have one of those," she said.

"No problem."

"Here, let me get you one."

"Why don't you take mine?"

The onrush of help offered to the Cait was almost overwhelming as the Marines tried to accommodate the sensuous creature.

Chords raised his hand and caught Trish's attention. He made a motion to her indicating what he wanted. "Stow it, Marines," he told the group and then smiled at Kat. "The girl's gonna bring you one right over. What's your name?" he asked again. "They call me Chords."

She licked the top of her lip with the tip of her tongue in anticipation of some quench her thirst. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was.

"Ka'tira," she said, "but my friends call me Kat."

She leaned her snout close to Chords, "You can call me Kat," she said with a purr.

She shifted a little pointing to each marine in turn she continued, "...and you, and..."

Miranda watched from behind the bar as the new Cait sat down with the marines. She noted that the cat-like creature, while still being rather graceful looks a bit unfocused and stumbled occasionally. This was the way people usually left Miranda's not entered it. She made a note to keep an eye on this one.

Miranda stopped in front of the spot where Campi was sitting. He also appeared to be watching the new crewmember interact with his men. "Trish tells me that you wanted to talk to me?"

Campi pulled his dark gaze from the group of Marines fawning all over the Cait officer and turned to level it onto Miranda. "Marcus Campanili," he told her with a very brief tilt to the corner of his lips.

He glanced at his men through the mirror again and then back to her. It was quite evident that he was keeping a watchful eye on them. "I understand from my TO, Lieutenant Taylor, that you have the finest scotch he's ever tasted," he began. "I'd like to know if I can buy a bottle from you."

Miranda chuckled, "Scott told me you would be coming." She placed an empty glass on the bar in front of him and turned to select a bottle from the bar, uncorking it she poured him a half glass, "You better try it first."

"I should have known he would," Campi's almost-smile quirked a bit more. He thought perhaps the Major had been right and there was something brewing between Taylor and the bar owner. "It's my turn to buy." He explained as he glanced back to his men and then watched her pour the scotch. "Did he tell you that I'm not a connoisseur of good scotch?"

"Who is?" she asked with a smile. "You enjoy this while I get you another bottle." Miranda disappeared into a storage room behind the bar.

Campi watched her go and then his gaze went back to the mirror where he watched is men and the Cait officer as he sipped the scotch.

The server brought Ka'tira her beer, she lifted the glass to her mouth and began drinking. She didn't put the glass down until it was gone.

"Easy there, Kitty Kat," Chords smiled at her and scooted his chair a little closer. "The night's still young."

"Here, let me get you another one.." Beck motioned to the waitress and pointed to Kat's empty glass. He and Chords had managed to put the Cait between them and weren't letting the other Marines have much of a chance with her. "What department are you in?"

"I am.." she said but waited a moment for her brain to catch up. "...A scientist."

"A scientist?" Beck scooted a little closer.

"That's very impressive," Chords told her with a grin.

"Do you know what?" she said with an exaggerated movement of her paw, "I have a tail." She squinted at Chords to make him less fuzzy.

"Do you know what?" Chords leaned in close. "I noticed. And it's a very attractive looking tail too.

"Do you think so?"

Chords grinned and nodded. "Indeed I do. What can you do with it?"

Ka'tira laughed, "oh, wouldn't you like to know..."

Chords laughed with her and nodded. "Oh yes ma'am, I surely would. Very much," he told her.

"We both would," Beck piped up.

"Hell, we all would!" One of the other Marines at the table chimed in.

Ka'tira took a sip of the fresh beer and then crawled up on the table sitting with her backs to the boys. Her tail swished back and forth from beneath the skirt of her uniform. She gave them a look over her shoulder and then got up on the table on all fours. Her bottom wiggled seductively as the tip of her tail tickled Chords on the ear and his chin.

Every Marine at the table was watching that wiggling bottom with keen interest and there was more than one "HooHa!" called out along with a whistle or two.

Chords laughed and tried to grab the end of her tail.

At the bar, Marcus exchanged a glance with Miranda who had just returned with his bottle of scotch. He straightened and looked like he was preparing to move.

Miranda also had her eye on the scene beginning to unfold in the lounge. Something was not right with this situation. She set the unopened bottle down on the take in front of Campi, "Here you go," she said, not taking her eyes off the Cait sitting with the Marines, "Something is not right over there."

"I'm keeping an eye on them." Campanili's gaze never left the table of Marines.

Ka'tira's eyes got very wide when Chords actually managed to catch it.

"Reel her in" came some shouts from some enlisted men at the next table.

Chords grinned at Kat and wiggled the end of her tail at her. "Now that I've caught it, what's my prize?"

Ka'tira snatched her tail from his hand and waved a finger back and forth, "uh-uh-uh" she said with an sly grin.

She leaned forward and used her tail on his nose like a feather duster then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "That's your prize."

By now there were more onlookers, mostly enlisted men. It was their happy hour at Miranda's. Several of the patrons began to cheer on Chords while several others were coaxing Ka'tira on how to keep away from him.

Chords laughed and made to grab her, his intention clearly to get her in his Lap, but the Cait deftly avoided his grasp.

"So you are a good fighter? I can fight too." said Ka'tira.

"We should have a sparring match some time," Chords offered suggestively. "Perhaps later tonight? In my quarters?"

"How about right now?" suggested Ka'tira striking a pose.

"Well, I had a more... =private= setting in mind," Chords chuckled and reached for her again, this time managing to grab hold of the hem of her skirt.

A wave of cheers went up and the Marines scooted back their chairs to give Chords some room to work.

Ka'tira tugged but Chords did not relent. She gave him a defiant look and with a quick wiggle left Chords holding her skirt.

She spun around on the table and faced him with a smile and a "ha!"

Anticipating he'd try to grab her again, she attempted to roll off the table but ended up in the lap of one of the new Marines who looked startled and wasn't quite sure what to do with a lapful of a half clothed officer.

"Hey, your kind of cute too," she said looking up.

"Y-You're more than cute, ma'am," he told her with a wide grin.

"Hand her over, Corporal," Chords tossed her skirt over his shoulder like a bar towel and reached over the table.

"Yes, sir!" the Corporal responded and stood up.

Behind him one of the onlookers grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. "Nono, hand her off to me!"

Campi had been watched the proceedings started to get out of hand and decided it was time to intervene. "Right..." he muttered and sat his glass on the bar top before giving Miranda a nod and slipping off his stool to weave his way through the crowd.

Miranda walked to the center of the bar and slowly reached for her equalizer. She knew that Melissa was going to be unhappy with her if she used it, but she could not allow this sort of thing to happen in her bar. She would give Campi a chance to get control of the situation, but if that failed she had her hole card. Miranda wrapped her hand around the hilt of a Thunderbolt 3010 double compression Phaser riffle and waited.

Ka'tira seemed to be relax as the young marine carried her like a bride across a threshold. But as he was about to hand her over, he tripped on her tail, spilling her on to the floor.

She looked at the lights above which were spinning. She felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

She closed her eyes and rolled over and laughed. When she opened her eyes again and looked up she saw a forest of legs and crawled through them, into a clearing under a table.

She felt very dizzy. It was too hot. She peeled off another layer of clothing and crawled past legs and hands reaching to clutch her.

Under the next table she peeled of the last of her clothing. She was still hot, and short of breath. A face peered from above, she couldn't hear what it was saying. Everything was moving in slow motion. The room filled with the din of voices which sounded like the roar of a river.

She turned and crawled, but it was like she was in a g-force simulator. Each breath was now a struggle. Her eyes focused on a pair of boots which blocked her way.

Campanili was smart enough not to try and grab her as she crawled under the tables. He just simply moved to intercept her. As soon as he showed up on the scene, Chords, Beck and the other Marines, with some prompting from the two Warrant Officers, stopped their horsing around.

The Marine XO crouched down when Kat reached his feet. "You don't look so good, Ensign," he observed rather calmly in that deep voice of his. "Why don't I help you up?" He reached his hand out to her.

"P-please," she said reaching up.

As Campanili helped her to her feet she slumped forward on him, "I don't feel so good," she said.

A brash ensign pushed his way past one of the marines, "hey kitty, you don't want to be with these jarheads," he said pulling persuasively on her tail. "Come and party at our table."

The young man's friends cheered him on, "yeah, come over here!"

The Ensign held up her tail as high as he could so his peers at the other table could see his conquest.

Ka'tira hissed and turned, primitive instincts took over. She snapped into a marital arts stance, her claws flicked from her paws like little switchblades.

Campanili reached an arm around Kat to keep her from lunging forward. At the same time, Beck stepped up and grabbed the Ensign who had her tail. "Dude, leave the woman alone!" Another one of the Marines reached out and pulled her tail free.

"Bugger off, jarhead," the Ensign shoved Beck away from him and Beck stumbled back into Chords. The rest of the Marines all stepped between the Ensign and his buddies, and where Campi was holding onto a struggling Kat.

"You jarheads think you can just come in here and order us around, well, it doesn't work that way!" one of the onlookers called out and several of them started try to push through the Marines, who naturally started shoving back.

"Jarhead? We DO serve a valid function, squid face," one of the younger Marines called back.

A punch was thrown, which lead to another, and then a third.

Campanili grabbed Ka'tira's wrists from behind and pulled her close to him, crossing her arms over her chest and holding the Cait tightly.

Ka'tira struggled for a moment to free herself but didn't have the strength. Now spent of energy, she slumped against him, "Zen.." she said too softly to be understood. Her eyes seemed to roll around in her head as she tried to focus on anything she could.

"Bring her things to Sickbay," Campi instructed Chords, who was fending off one of the onlookers. "Aye, aye, Chief. Just as soon as..." One of the Ensign's fist caught him squarely in the jaw, halting his words.

For an Italian, Marcus Campanili is a big man, so swinging the Cait officer up over his shoulder was accomplished with relative ease. He looked over to spot Miranda with her rifle, and smirked a bit. "I'll be escorting her to Sickbay," he informed her and nodded to her rifle, his smirk turning into one of those almost-grins. "I'll leave this to you..."

Miranda watched Campaneli leave and the fight continued to escalate. She hefted the massive rifle, set it to its lowest setting and fired. The blast sailed just over their heads and connected with the door that Campi had just left from. The door being made for decoration and not security shattered into several pieces.

The marines in the room instinctively hit the deck as their many hours of training had taught them. An alarm klaxon began to screech as soon as Miranda fired her weapon. She knew that security would be here soon. Still holding the weapon in firing position Miranda shouted to be heard over the alarm , "All right, everyone out. We are closed."

Aftermath "
By: CWO5 Peter Singer , Marine , [NPC]
Marp, Engineer, [RNPC]
Margaret Rose MacAlister , Marine CO, [RNPC]
Melissa Jarvis, Chief Security Officer, [RNPC]
Miranda, Lounge Manager, [RNPC]
Scott Taylor , Marine Tirtiary Officer , [NPC]
WO Al Beckett , Marine , [NPC]

Stardate: 58208.12 2100

==Miranda's==

Miranda looked at the mess in her bar. Several of the crew assigned to work the lounge had already started cleaning it up. She had not anticipated the destruction her equalizer would cause. She did after all set it on its lowest setting. Broken shards of glass and wood from the ornate doors were strewn about the room and the corridor outside.

Several security officers moved about the room talking to the people who were left. After she had blown the door off its mountings most of the people left, those that had not were now giving statements to the security. She knew it would be only a matter of time until they came to talk to her, however, for some reason they did not approach her other that to take possession of her weapon.

Miranda soon discovered just why no one was taking her statement when Melissa Jarvis entered through the shattered doors. She paused to survey the room for a moment and then glanced over at Miranda. One of her security officers approached her and handed Miranda's Thunderbolt to her. She double checked to make sure that the weapon had been properly deactivated.

Jarvis was a bit surprised, first of all, how in the world had Miranda managed to get this weapon onto the Zion? Second of all, she never would have expected it from Miranda. She walked over to Miranda, her face devoid of any smile.

"Hello," said Miranda absently rubbing her right shoulder. The little Ferengi who had smuggled it aboard for her did not bother to tell her about the kickback the Thunderbolt had.

"You've been busy," said Jarvis. "Would you mind telling me how you managed to get what amounts to a phaser cannon onboard my ship?

"Ah... Well...Do you remember that Ferengi who used to be in your department?"

Anger seethed inside Jarvis as she recalled the little rodent who used to be on her staff. "I should have known," Jarvis shook her head. "Miranda, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I needed to keep them from getting out of--"

"No!" Interrupted Jarvis slamming the phaser rifle down on the top of the bar which caused Miranda to jump ever so slightly, "That is my job. That might work for you in some backwater starbase but not on a Maquis Starship. You could have killed a lot of--"

"Now wait just a minute," said Miranda. "I hit exactly what I was aiming at."

"So you planned to blow the door to toothpicks then?"

"Well...I didn't think it would be that bad."

"You didn't? Haven't you ever fired this monster before today?"

"I had not needed it until now," she admitted.

"I'm keeping this weapon Miranda," declared Jarivs. "The next time you have trouble try calling security. This type of thing is what we are trained to do."

Miranda nodded. Jarvis was very upset with her and this bothered the Elorian. She considered Jarvis a friend and hoped that their friendship was not damaged by this. "I'm sorry Melissa," she said.

Jarvis turned and allowed her expression to soften a little, "I have to report this to the captain," she said. "He will probably want to talk to you about this."

Miranda nodded and watched as Jarvis walked as a rapid pace from the lounge.

***

== Ready Room - Marine Deck -- 2130 hours==

MacAlister strode into the Marine Ready Room where the Marines from Miranda's were assembled. She stopped just inside the doorway and placed her hands on her hips to stare at them. Her eyes roamed over each one in turn. She was NOT pleased.

Both Chords and Beck winced. Even if the other Marines hadn't, they'd both seen that look on her face before.

"I dinnae think it was possible." she began, placing her hands behind her back as she started a slow circuit of the conference table they were all sitting around. Several of the men were bruised or cut and a couple were even still bleeding. She either didn't notice or didn't seem to care.

"Uhh.. sir." Chords started to speak, being the senior ranking officer among the men who'd been at the lounge.

"Dinnae speak just yet, Chief Warrant Singer," Madge interrupted him with a softly spoken voice.

Beck sent Chords a sympathetic look when the Major addressed him by his rank. That was bad. That was real bad.

"An' dinnae think I've forgotten aboot ye, Warrant Beckett," she added, still slowly circling the table. Rather like a shark.

Taylor watched as Mac circled them. This was bad. He had seen the major upset before and this was one of those times that he hoped that his men would have the common sense to keep their mouths shut. As he waited for Mac to unload both barrels on them he cringed as he noticed Private Williams open his mouth to speak. Taylor tried to get his attention, he shook his head but Williams did not notice.

"But Major those fleeters..."

Taylor had hand picked WIlliams for his special forces team and he needed to take action quickly. Taylor pulled the sunglasses from his face, rushed up to young private and got right in his face, "I don't care what those limp dick fleeters did Private," snapped Taylor, his nose only centimeters from Williams'. "We are Marines, we are supposed to have discipline." He paused to take a breath; the muscles on his neck were taught and a vein on his forehead popped out, "Do you know what discipline is Marine?"

Williams swallowed hard, "Y...yes ell-tee Sir!"

"You better Private, because discipline will be the difference between you surviving your next mission and coming home in a body bag. Do you understand me Marine?"

Williams could not find the words to speak and simply nodded his head.

"I can't hear you", yelled Taylor.

"Yes Sir!"

Taylor shoved his glasses back onto his face and returned to his position behind Mac.

The Major had paused in her circling when Taylor stepped in to handle the Private's outburst. Mac kept a very strict Chain of Command in her unit and she not only knew Taylor was saving the Marine from her wrath, but approved of it. This wasn't the first time they'd been in this same kind of situation and Taylor knew that if the Major had corrected the Private, it would not have been pretty.

As soon as Taylor stepped back behind her, Mac continued on her circular route around the offenders, picking up where she'd left off just as if there hadn't been an interruption. "I dinnae think it was possible for ye lads tae *piss* me off, but the lot of ye proved me verra wrong." She stop long enough to look at each and every one of them. "You will come tae learn that I dinnae like tae be proven wrong." The timbre of her voice was rather ominous sounding.

"Do I, Chief Warrant Singer?"

"No, sir," Chords responded with a snap to his voice.

"Do I, Warrant Beckett?"

"No sir!" Beckett nearly shouted.

She continued her circle for nearly a full, tense minute when you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Then she stopped and rounded on them. She didn't shout like Taylor did. They were a more effective team if he did the shouting part and she did the deadly quiet, if you twitch you're going to die part.

"I have never been so disappointed in a group of Marines under my command as I am right now," she told them. "Ye have tainted not just yerselves, which ye bloody well have the right tae do, but every Marine in our unit, which is nae yer right. Do ye understand what that means?" It was a rhetorical question and after the scene between Taylor and Williams, no one opened their mouths.

"Ye bloody well better think aboot it long an' hard if each of ye want tae remain part of this unit." Her voice was low, the threat very clear. Then she straightened and went back to circling them. "Ye will go back tae the lounge. Tonight. And ye will each deliver a personal apology tae the owner. And ye will bloody well make damn sure that *As A Unit* ye help the woman put her place back in order."

She turned her back on them then and looked at Taylor. "Ye'll see tae it, Lieu-ten-ant," she instructed. "They'll have extra duty for a week, and the cost of the repairs will come out of their pay chits."

"Absolutly Sir," said Taylor snapping to attention and firing off a stiff salute. Turning on his heal he looked at his men, "Form up Marines," he shouted.

All of the marines scrambled to form a single file line.

"About face," he shouted.

The marines turned and now faced the door.

"Forward march."

In complete unison the marines moved towards the door.

"Double time Marines. This ain't a walk in the park."

The marines began running out the door and down the corridor.

When they were gone, Madge tapped her comm. badge. "MacAlister tae Campanili. Report tae my office in one hour, if ye please," she instructed.

"Not for an hour?" he responded. He knew why she was calling him.

"Ye dinnae want tae see me now, Captain. I need tae kill something first. One hour, if ye please."

"Yes sir." Campanili was very aware of her moods and her wrath.

***

==Miranda's - 2300 hours ==

Miranda sat in her quiet bar on board the state of the art war ship USS Zion and stared absently out the window looking out into space. An occasional shuttle or transport ship on it's way to QulTuq would occasionally fly across her viewing area. She ignored it. Engineering and operations had worked quickly to repair the door she had blown away but she decided to keep the lounge closed.

She was a little unhappy because she screwed up. She should have known better that to trust a Ferengi to get her a simple weapon. She hoped that it would not cost her her position on the Zion. More importantly, she hoped that Lieutenant Jarvis would forgive her mistake. In her short lifetime she had come to value friendship, because it would not be long and the friends she had now would be gone.

The newly repaired door opened and Marcus Campanili stepped inside the lounge, stopping to admire the handiwork. He'd heard brief descriptions of the shambles that had occurred after he'd left the bar. "It always amazes me just how quickly things can be set to rights on a Starship," he commented in that deep voice of his. He made his way over to Miranda and availed himself of the seat beside her. "You look... pensive."

"Crabby is a better word," she said.

"Crabby's a good word," Marcus nodded rather sagely. His voice was deep and even. Not monotone, but stable. "I like that word. Crabby. Mind if I join you?" he nodded to the bottle.

Miranda shrugged, "That is your bottle. Take it, it's yours."

"Indeed..." Marcus helped himself to a couple of glasses, and poured them each two fingers of the scotch. "Did Security want your head on a platter?"

"Let's just say that Lieutenant Jarvis is not very happy with me," she waved her hand at the drink. "No thanks. I can't stand scotch."

"Would you like me to get you something else?" he asked with a light quirk of his lips. "The Major's not very happy either," he told her. "But I'm willing to bet they'll both get over it... eventually."

"Your marines came back to help get this place cleaned up. The one named WIlliams mentioned that she was unhappy. So was Scott I guess."

"These things have a way of blowing over given the right amount of time," Campi told her, and took a sip of the scotch. "We're all worried this will reflect badly on the Marines. We fight an uphill battle when it comes to the way people perceive us," he smirked a little. "Scott will be alright." He looked over at her. She was a good looking woman, no doubt about it. He didn't blame Scott a bit for going after her.

"Scott was here too. He made sure the marines were deeply sorry for their part in all this," she observed. "He was pretty tough on his men."

"He has to be," Campi nodded and looked over at her. "We're Marines. Our lives depend on discipline and following orders the moment they're spoken. We have to be tough on our men and ourselves because we have to be equipped to handle the tougher situations we get ordered into."

"Where did you go?"

"Took the Cait to Sickbay," Marcus answered. "Seems she had an allergic reaction to something they gave her."

"I wish you would have taken your marines with you," she said with a slow sigh.

Marcus took another sip before answering. "Perhaps. But it was best if I didn't interfere. They need to learn how to discipline themselves in situations like that. Not have me acting as nursemaid.... I didn't think you'd really fire off that monster you were hanging onto when I left."

"I didn't think I had much choice. Things were out of hand." Miranda glanced at the new door, "I didn't think it was going to cause as much damage as it did."

"Never, ever, discharge a weapon unless you know what it's going to do," he said quietly. "But I'll get off my high horse because I doubt you need me up there at the moment." His lips quirked in another one of those almost-smiles and he took another sip of scotch. "And always remember one of the basic laws of physics; if you discharge a weapon on a starship, all the bells and whistles will go off and Security will descend on you like a swarm of locust." He actually smiled then. "Get a big knife, or a stun baton," he advised. "And then go after the lead dog. A good stun baton to the back of the knees or groin will get any rowdy sob's attention in a hot second."

"I do not need the lecture on weapon safety or self defense," she said, her level of annoyance starting to rise. "I am one hundred years old and have pretty extensive experience with personal firearms." She absently rubbed her still sore shoulder. "I just under-estimated this one. I also suspect it was not a personal weapon but more of a military one." She silently cursed the Ferengi who had sold it to her. "The stun baton is a good idea though. I might just try that one."

Marcus just quirked a brow in her direction and refrained from making any comments about her 'under-estimation'. Instead he nodded. "They're usually pretty effective," he commented. "I didn't get a good look at the weapon you had, so I can't say for sure, but judging by what some of the men said, I'd say that it being military issue was a safe bet. I won't even ask how you got it," that almost smile peeked out again.

"I set it to it's lowest setting and it just blew the door away," she observed. "That just doesn't seem right."

"Hmmm..." Marcus rubbed his chin a moment. "Could have been modified."

"It probably was. It will be too soon before I see another Ferengi again," she said. No sooner had she gotten the words out of her mouth, the new door slid open. Miranda turned to see who had just come in. Her mouth hung open in total disbelief.

Marcus turned to look just because of the look on Miranda's face. He Smirked, and rather than incur the wrath of a crabby woman, kept his laughter to him self.

Marp knew that something was not right. He looked around in surprise. The lounge totally empty except for two people sitting at a table. The Ferengi looked around in confusion and then said, "Umm...Hi."

Miranda glared at the Ferengi entering her bar. She knew it was not the same Ferengi who sold her the phaser but she didn't really care at the moment. "We're closed," said Miranda sternly. "Come back some other time."

Marp nervously shuffled his feet as he sort of half bowed, "Oh, ok." He turned and fled the lounge.

As soon as the door closed behind the Ferengi, Marcus let the deep chuckle he'd been containing break free. "I think you conjured him up," he said with a smile. "You probably couldn't do that again if you tried." He chuckled again because the timing on that had just been priceless.

"I hope it's not a omen," she said.

"Perhaps you've become prophetic." His lips quirked a bit at the teasing suggestion. "A result of firing a modified military weapon and killing your poor door." Now he was teasing, and he flashed her a rare grin.

"I'm going to turn in," said Miranda. "You can take the bottle with you." She got up, "Have a good night Captain."

Marcus downed the rest of the scotch and stood up. "Good nigh, ma'am," he smiled and bowed. "Sleep well." He grabbed the bottle of scotch and headed out, whistling a little tune as he did.

Return to Sender "
By: Captain Marcus Campanili , Marine XO , [NPC]
M'Ressha Ka'Tira, Stellar Cartography, [RNPC]
Teilani Dane, Chief Medical Officer, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 2130

Marcus Campanili carried the Cait Ensign from Miranda's. He got a lot of strange looks on his way, but he merely nodded and continued on until the doors of Sickbay swooshed open.

"Dr. Dane?" He called out in his deep voice as he carried Kat over and gently laid her onto a biobed. He didn't sound panicked, but his voice did carry an edge of command to it.

"Captain?" Teilani said as she appeared behind him.

"I have a patient for you," he informed her, seemingly unstartled by her appearance behind him. He stepped out of the way to give her access to the naked Cait and slipped automatically into that parade-rest stance he seemed to always adopt.

"What happened," she asked as she lowered the diagnostic display over Katira.

"There was an... incident in Miranda's," Marcus informed her. "She appeared drunk and... uninhibited while interacting with my men, which they didn't help," he added honestly.

Carefully Teilani covered Ka'tira with a silvery blanket, at least she would be decent.

"Did you observe if she had something to drink?" Teilani asked as she adjusted the controls on the display.

"She drank a single beer and perhaps just a sip of another," Campanili answered confidently.

"This is really weird.... " Teilani mumbled and called up Ka'tira's medical charts.

"'Weird'. Is that a new medical term?" he asked without cracking a smile, but the corner of his lips did quirk just a bit.

Teilani grinned softly and glanced back over her shoulder. "It is an official medical term for when I am baffled." she retorted back and pointed to the display.

Marcus arched a brow and stepped up behind her to examine the display over her head as she pointed to it.

"Look that's what I mean, although she drank something, and our beer is made of synthehol so she can not be drunk but yet has all the signs which can lead me to only 1 conclusion."

"And that is?" he prompted and glanced down at Teilani.

"She is allergic for something."

"Hmm... Then she has to have something else in her system, or been exposed to something?" he queried.

Teilani frowned....."Ahh look here we go.. this is not right.. but how...she mumbled almost to herself. "I gave her a hypospray this afternoon to make her a bit more relaxed. She seemed to be very nervous being on board. It must have given her some sort of allergic reaction but there was nothing on her medical chart."

"Captain, hand me that yellow and green vial as well as the hypospray there from the table." Teilani now ordered.

Marcus tsk'd as he deftly obeyed. "I'm being pressed into Medical service..." But he acted like he was familiar with handling the items as he handed them over to her.

"Thank you, right lets see," Teilani inserted the yellow vial and pushed it to Ka'tira's neck. Slowly the hiss from the hypo released the yellow fluid and Teilani looked at the diagnostic display.

"There we go, hart rate down...that's it."

Ka'tira stirred, "Where am I?"

"Don't move, your in sickbay." Teilani explained gently.

"What happened to me?"

"From what I can tell you had some sort of allergic reaction."

She sighed and smiled at the doctor, still feeling euphoric, she said, "I don't feel sick, may I go now?"

Teilani shook her head, "I can not do that, I would like to keep you overnight, run some more tests. I need to find out exactly what made you respond so uninhibited."

"You're nice." she said laying her head back on the pillow.

Teilani turned to Marcus. "She will be alright now Captain. Thank you for bringing her here."

"My pleasure. Ladies," he nodded politely and then turned and quietly left sickbay.

After the Rush "
By: James McIntyre , Doctor , [NPC]
Krystal, Hologram, [RNPC]
Teilani Dane, Chief Medical Officer, [PC]

Stardate: 58208.12 2220

The noises had died down in sickbay when Teilani walked in. After the fight in Miranda's several crewmembers had popped in with all sorts of injuries, from a black eye to some bruised ego's. Nothing her crew couldn't fix though.

Some of the younger nurses were cleaning up the mess or sterilizing the equipment when Teilani saw James in her office. A worried look on his face.

"James, it looks like you have lost someone." she said gently as she walked in.

He looked up from the console, "Oh, no, no... one was lost. I'm doing some research, Maxine Tappert was admitted for what amounts to Schatchy syndrome."

"Schatchy syndrome, now that is a word I haven't heard in a long time. Didn't it have something to do with neural implants being overloaded or so?"

"That's right, but it isn't anything too serious at this point, but I am concerned enough to explore some treatment to stabilize it.

"How did it happen?"

"She had a nightmare," Krystal announced and stepped out from where she'd been hiding to perch on Jame's shoulder. She was dressed in a little nurses outfit complete with an old fashioned stethoscope. Her spiky red-gold hair was pulled up into two pigtails and she looked like she just stepped out of "Nurses Do Sickbay", or something.

Teilani tried to hide her smile but she couldn't. "I see, hello Krystal, she said. "What kind of nightmare?"

Krystal wiggled her fingers at Dane. "Hihihi. The scary kind with bad computers in it," she answered. "I was good though," she assured her.

Teilani frowned slightly, "Bad kind? "Krystal? what do you mean?"

"Bad computers are computers that do bad things to you," Krystal explained. "Like that mean Birkoff made the computers in the holodeck. But it wasn't me. I was good."

"I know you are good Krystal, perhaps you and James should come up with some sort of a solution for this problem?" Teilani suggested.

"I'm his research assistant," Krystal beamed and then her wing and antennae dropped. "But I can't access the computer now."

"You can not? Why not?" Teilani asked.

"Maxie grounded me," she told Dane. She looked so pathetic. "She said I had an orgy, but I didn't! I just wanted some friends. And we were just playing. And then Maxie got really, really mad and bonked her head and left me alone in the dark after grounding me." She even managed a sniff. "She said she was going to give me a watchdog with dragon teeth. I hate dragons."

Doctor McIntyre appeared as if he had opened Pandora's box. "I take it you two have met before?"

Krystal nodded. "Uh-huh. She gave me a jewel for my treasure trove," the pixie told him. "And she saved me from that mean EMH who tried to swat me like a bug."

Teilani grinned. "That is true. But Krystal if you were a naughty pixie then Max had every right to discipline you. You can not go about and throwing parties when ever you want."

"I was not a naughty pixie! I just wanted to have some friends," Krystal protested with a 'hmpf!' as she stopped looking at Dane, crossed her little arms over her chest and tapped her foot on James' shoulder. "She said she might make it a dragon dog."

"I am sure that she will not sent a dragon after you, but for now we need to find a way to make Max better alright?"

"I'm not stopping you." The little sprite was clearly out of sorts now.

"Don't get fresh with me young lady," Teilani said with a little warning.

"Now lets see although you do not have direct access you can still operate a console and perhaps faster then we can. Why don't you use that console and see if you can find any reference in the medical database which might explain Max's condition.

"I'm fresh!" Krystal exclaimed. "I'm always fresh! Aren't I fresh?" she asked McIntyre and sniffed herself to see, raising her arms to check under them just in case she'd gotten some bad nectar or something.

"Krystal! Go see if you can find more information on the subject."

Teilani turned to James. "So what kind of treatment are you thinking off?"

"I've heard of several different types of regenerative techniques, although we are dealing with nerve tissue..." replied McIntyre.

"Yes nerve tissue are most difficult in treating, but even tough, if we manage to cure it, we can not be sure it will never happen again.

"Of course, and that is certainly a risk that Miss Tappert is aware of."

"Yes and perhaps she needs to learn to *hook up* a little less frequent so to speak. So how do you want to go about with it James?" Teilani asked.

"That is going to take some strong coffee, Doctor. Care to join me."

"For coffee you can not hold me back."

Challenges #53"
By: Eric Bonestulo , NpC , [NPC]
Samantha Carter, Security Officer, [RNPC]

Stardate: 58208.12 2330

Location: Gymnasium

Sweat gleamed on clear, smooth skin, glistening under steady lights as firmly wrapped fists slammed again and again into the suspended bag, viciously knocking it to and fro. Frustration boiled in every line of lean muscle, lending strength to the blows until the room echoed with nothing but the constant thump of knuckles against worn leather.

Eric made his way to gym, looking to work off some steam. It had been a long day working with Rachel and his assistant, Abraham, as well as trying to liaise their work with the good people of Engineering. Rachel had clearly had her mind set on something that she wasn't excited about, Abrahams was distracted about something, the Engineers were being too pushy and he felt like the XO had been hovering over his shoulder for the last half hour of the shift before changeover. * Thank God for Cirek's training, or else I would have popped on all of them.* he thought.

He stepped into the gym without even checking to see if it was already in use, and was surprised to see Sam working over the punching bag in the far corner.

"Hey Sam... taking out some stress I see. Wanna spar a bit?" Eric asked, wrapping up his own hands as he looked at the ring in the center of the gym.

Startled out of her single-minded world, Sam swept a hand up to shove back loose tendrils of hair. The braid had proved ineffective in the face of her exertion, releasing strands to cascade against her cheeks, sticking in the perspiration there. "Oh, Eric. Hello."

Watching him move effortlessly towards her, she couldn't help a small smile. Truth be told, the bag was proving to be much too compliant to her mood at the moment. "If you're up to taking the bag's place, then sure."

Eric smiled back slightly as he weighed the options. "Yeah, I think the bag has had enough and would appreciate the break. Besides, you can't hit what you can't catch." Eric grinned as he moved to the corner and grabbed some white gloves, with matching headgear and groin protection, taking a clear mouth guard from the near ring corner. He put them down in his corner and moved to meet Sam at her corner as he climbed the slight stairs to the ring, holding the ropes open for her to enter.

Swiping red head-gear and mouth guard, Sam hopped up into the ring, adjusting the padding to her liking.

"So, what’d the bag say to get you so wound up?" Eric asked as he got his equipment ready, turning to face Sam, ready to rumble.

Foregoing comment, Sam turned and swung a glove high, aiming for the side of Eric’s head.

"Hmm, I guess you aren't in a talking mood then." Eric replied with a smirk as he ducked the high punch, using his foot and hand speed to his advantage as he swivelled beneath the overthrown right hand and smashed his white glove into the exposed stomach of Sam with a fair bit of power behind it, although Eric was holding back slightly at this point. He wasn't sure how hard to play just yet, he was still evaluating and trying to get some information. "You upset about someone I know?" Eric asked from behind his mouth guard as he moved around the woman, shoving her slightly upright with his gloves against her shoulders.

*Cocky bastard.* Sam bared her teeth in a wolfish grin as she felt Eric pushing her away. She could feel his blow to her bare abdomen, still stinging from the leather of his glove. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she delivered a rapid-fire double jab to his gut, the second blow angling towards the side as she skipped back out of his reach. “No one in particular”. She responded

Eric was caught by surprise by Sam's speed as he was unable to avoid her blows to his stomach as he felt her moving forward. Then, he watched her skipping away, opening up and moving out of his range as he got his feet moving again. "Oh, come on Sam. You've got to be able to lie more convincingly than that.” Eric teased as he bobbed and weaved, his balance and grace of motion on display as he searched for an opening, his gloves high. He was used to being the rabbit in the ring, able to outpace and outrun his opponent, but that wasn't the case it would appear. He changed tactics and tried to move forward, seeing if being the bully would work.

He bodied up against Sam, trying to shove her back into a corner and fired his gloves into her sides, just above her hips, trying to drag her protective guard down low.

"That bag had a face, Ms Carter. Whose was it?"

Dropping her left elbow as low as she dared, Sam kept her guard up, glaring at Eric as she shouldered to the side, then swung a blow up to connect with his jaw. She winced as his glove struck up under her ribs and reacted by catching her foot behind his ankle and jerking as she landed another blow. this one to his chest. Eric went sprawling onto the mat and Sam danced back out of the way. Eyes narrowed in concentration.

“You really do not want to know whose face was on the bag, Eric. It might frighten you.’” She said breathing heavily.

The jaw shot had completely caught Eric off-guard, as well as the strength of the security officer, as she had managed to muscle him back slightly, and then had floored him with a solid punch to the chest that had knocked Eric off-balance. He listened to her words and looked into her eyes. "I'm tougher than you think, Sam: In both senses." Eric sneered back, as he sprang to his feet and decided to show a bit of his A game, as obviously Sam was quite capable of taking care of herself.

He shuffled in slowly, a grin on his face behind his white gloved guard as he stalked her, as his mind cycled through his punch arsenal, trying to decide on a strategy that would work. Eric finally figured he had a workable approach, against an opponent who could outpace and out punch him. He needed to throw more leather, and stay away, make her chase him.

Eric dropped his hands slightly to his waist as he eyed Sam as he approached. "So what happened at Miranda’s . Where you not man enough to control a bunch of marines. If you are not careful they will take over security on the ship".? Eric teased as he fired a couple of low left jabs towards the waistband of her trunk, then stepping in and slightly to the right to try and power a right hook into her now exposed jaw.

He wanted her to look down; she could see it in his eyes. So Sam dropped her eyes, blocking the jabs while ducking her head as well. She felt Eric’s hook whistle past, the leather burning her cheek. Keeping one arm high to block a second attempt, Sam swung with the other, her torso twisted to protected her unguarded flank.

“It sounds to me as if you, and not I, are the one who is worried about them.” She replied back. A blow landed and Sam curled into it, drawing in the pain as she rammed her elbow into the exposed forearm and swung high with the other fist, glove in line with Eric’s collarbone. The blow landed with a crunch and both combatants fell away.

Eric moved away after her heavy blow to his shoulders, his feet dragging a bit as he looked up and something in Sam's eyes. He had hurt her with that last punch to the stomach. Eric decided that those flat abdominals would now become his target. He was going to try and punch the air and power out of the woman by taking away her ability to breath. Eric moved in cautiously again, as Sam pawed out with a light jab, that Eric managed to avoid, stepping around it and throwing a double left hook that slapped against the top of her red groin protector, and then he stepped into a heavy right handed hook towards her jaw, trying to send the girl back into the ropes.

Winded, Sam circled away from Eric, watching the predatory gleam in his eyes. *So he’s going for the gut* she thought, arching and weaving away as he swung in again. *Let him do that again and I’ll have a clear shot at his head.*

“You know its funny, you’re the one who started this conversation. Me, I was just trying to take a sandbag apart.” She replied. *There!* He dove in, fists aimed low to take her in the side. Waiting until he was committed to the move, Sam stepped in, guard raised, and delivered a solid punch to the side of his head. His blow sent her toppling back, the air seizing inside her, but she managed a wild swing that connected once again with his jaw before she hit the mat, her breath bursting from her lungs.

Eric was caught mid smile as he watched his right hand connect with her jaw and send her towards the mat and then her red glove streaked from nowhere and thundered into his jaw, dropping himself against the ropes, clutching at them to keep himself off of the canvas.. "Don't give me that, Sam. I've spent enough time with marines and security officers to know that routine when I hear it.”

“The analyzing looks, the careful treading.. I've read that book before. So, let's just talk to each other like friends, how would that be? You want to keep fighting, or do you want to talk. I doubt you got much more in that tank of yours." Eric grinned, as he looked down on Sam as she lay on the canvas, the sweat slightly dribbling off of her onto the mat. *Please say you'd rather talk. I don't know if I can beat you.* he thought.

Rolling up to her knees, Sam took hold of the ropes to help her to her feet. She hurt, but not nearly as much as Eric seemed to assume.

“Okay, with those marines on board I feel that my department is of no use at the moment, not only that but they took Miranda’s apart. Marines are only trouble if you tell me.”

Stalking towards him, she continued. “As to the face on the bag: it was mine.”

Sam could sense Eric’s guard coming up. He wasn’t quite sure how to take this sudden burst of spite, but after releasing the valve, Sam doubted she could stop if she wanted to. “Were you expecting that one, Eric.” Swinging in hard, she slammed her fist into his gut.

"Ummm, no." Eric managed to slightly reply, but it was hardly audible as Sam advanced on him, and crashed her red gloved fist into his gut. He saw the blow coming and flexed and tried to cover up but the blow was a forceful one and it hurt....alot. Eric wrapped his gloved arms around Sam and held her tight to him, trying to pin her arms to her side as he struggled to free them. "I suppose I don't have to tell you that it's not a good sign to do that, right?" Eric joked slightly as he held her, trying to get her to use up all the rage and self-loathing. He had seen it before, perhaps more closely then he would care to admit.

“Let go of me, Eric.” The words were delivered dead-pan as Sam spat out the mouth guard. When he held on, his amusement fading a bit into concern, Sam managed a slight grin. “I promise, no more fighting. And no, its not an issue of beating myself up but rather choosing a more accessible target.’”

Eric leaned back against the ropes slightly to help keep himself upright.

"I get the message. I won't get on your bad side." Eric replied as he dropped his mouth guard into his white glove and moved it to his trunks, tucking the mouth guard into the waistband of his trunk as he grimaced and rubbed his flat stomach with his left glove. "So... mind some friendly talk with your accessible target?" Eric asked, looking into her eyes with a grin.

Bending over to pick up her own discarded guard, Sam stood back upright, mouth tight as she began unlacing her gloves. “Friendly talk, eh?” The leather came free from sweaty hands that Sam wiped onto her shorts

Eric looked up with a shy smile as he rubbed at his eyes slightly.

"You shouldn't feel sorry for yourself, or get down on yourself Sam. You do important work you keep the ship save on the inside. You will be counted on for strength by many amongst this crew...." Eric looked back to the center of the ring and smiled "... a different kind of strength. But I just think you should know that I believe in you and I'm here if you want to talk... or just punch." Eric laughed slightly.

"Either way you want it, I'll do what I can to help."

Unable to resist, Sam turned and playfully slapped Eric on the shoulder. Chuckling easily, she added: “Don’t worry about me. I just needed to blow off some steam before I went and did something stupid.”

A flick of the wrist and Sam had the ropes parted as she slipped through, jumping easily to the ground. “Thanks for the work-out, though. We’re going to have to do this again, preferably some time I’m not ready to rip something apart.?”

"Anytime you feel like it, I'll be there." Eric replied, doing his best Rocky impression. "I'd be willing to teach you some of the Vulcan meditation and control methods that my Father's staff taught me on Vulcan.

“Just let me know." Eric offered as he followed her out of the ring and laid his equipment in the sanitization area. He decided that he was going to try his new holodeck program out.

Her body was becoming stiff from the brutal workout, but Sam welcomed the pain in exchange for a lighter mind.

Log Index | Go to Stardate 58208.13