Images

"Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins; And there is such confusion in my powers." - The Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare "I'm glad you were punctual Victria. It means I won't have to put a reprimand in your record." Atticus grinned as he took a seat at the dining table in his quarters. He folded his hands together in front of him as though he were some evil villain meeting his adversary. "It is a pity as well though. I had it all planned out. Lots of character degrading, suggestions for possible punishments. Shame I can’t use it" "It seems to me that you enjoy being in charge entirely too much." Peering at him from across the table, Victria's lips curved into a slight smirk. "But after your harsh rebuke earlier, I thought it best to be here on time lest I suddenly find myself declared a danger to this ship and thrown into the brig." "I'm honoured you decided to accept the invitation to my humble abode." Lieutenant Segami said with a slight bow of the head. "Pardon the bareness of my quarters but for a man with a lot of memories I've strangely never been the type for keeping mementos." "I didn't notice. My quarters are sparse as well." Her attention drifted briefly to their surroundings, studying what little adornments decorated the room. "I dislike clutter." "That's something we share. If I were to keep a set of ornaments for each of my incarnations you'd be banging your elbows everywhere you’d turn. I appreciate that items can bear significance but I cherish my space and its order dearly" "Now I wasn't going to be presumptuous before you arrived so I wonder, is there any type of music you'd like me to play while we dine? Or perhaps a change in lighting? I know that many people are quite fastidious about the mood and setting of their mealtimes." He continued to grin, his attention shifting briefly to domed tray cover that sat in the center of the table between them. He was obviously withholding some secret and not doing it well on purpose. Her calculating gaze studying his face once more, she leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. "Al-Ucard have no need for ambiance. Our meals are usually taken on the run," she said, baring her fangs slightly. "So I have noticed. Once again may I say your demonstration in the holodeck was magnificent to behold...it was savage but there was beauty to it.' He paused as a memory from earlier hit him. "I did not find such an air when I was onboard our survivor’s vessel." "Does what you saw on the freighter disturb you?" Still leaning on the table, she searched his expression and scent to discover the truth. "It did. No question about that. However the thing that shocked me was not the slaughter itself but how much it differed from your own hunt. You went straight for the kill when you got your chance in the holodeck simulation. You did not make the beast suffer for long. It showed respect or honour of a sort." A cold look of personal opinion entered his eyes. "But what occurred on that freighter was purely...vicious. The amount of mutilation to some of the victims was far more frenzied and less precise. The easy kill being purposely avoided to allow further damage. In a word, sadistic." She nodded knowingly but did not comment further on the circumstances. She was certain that he would be disgusted if he knew the truth. Her method of killing was the exception rather than the rule, but she had participated in the torture of many Lucam in such a fashion. Instead, she turned her attention to the tray on the table, waving her hand at it. "Well? I'm assuming that you have some sort of surprise planned? The anticipation in your voice is hard to miss." He let out a quiet but good natured laugh, glad to be returning from the idea of work. "Yes Victria, I do indeed, and I believe you may be quite interested at my choice." He stood up and placed his hand over the handle of the large silver tray lid. "Are you ready?" She leaned back in her seat, brows raised expectantly, curious to see what he was so excited about. "So long as whatever is in there isn't going to kill me." With a flourish, he deftly lifted the lid to reveal the reason for its large size. Underneath was a heating unit of some sort with many small glasses surrounding one large goblet in the center. Though not all held red liquid, their contents were unmistakably blood. "Ta da," he said softly, watching her as he set the lid aside and reclaimed his seat. "What do you think, Victria?" Her tongue probed one of her fangs as she leaned forward to catch the aroma. "Replicated?" Her icy-blue eyes flitted to his face, her expression tense and serious. "All but one," he said, gesturing to the large engraved goblet. "That is yours to have alone. Each of these containers holds vitae from a different species across the galaxy. I assure you this platter was quite hard to get hold of. "I've also kept them warm just in case you were particular - all at the internal temperature for average humanoids." Her nostrils flared and she rose slightly her seat, her gaze shifting back to the glasses. "A sampling of different species. Something I've been meaning to do but have not had time to pursue. Are you trying some as well?" "Of course. I said we would share this evening. It would be rude of me to do otherwise. Besides I've always been open to trying new... experiences." "Wouldn't that be harmful to your body? From what I understand, you are made to process other types of nourishment." Though she most wanted to snatch up the center goblet and drain the contents, she managed to show a small amount of self control. Instead, she selected one of the smaller glasses and brought it to her nose to sniff. If I did this every day, I'm sure it would cause damage to my system but there are even humanoid cultures on planets like earth that once considered drinking a bowl of animal blood an extreme delicacy. So I'm sure one evening shouldn't cause me too much harm. He took his own small glass and held it up. "Bon appetit." He threw it down his throat like a shot of whiskey, showing Victria that he was not timid. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip, savoring the flavor, trying to distinguish differences in other vintages she knew. Her gaze remained on him, however, watching for his reaction. "If you really want to sample it, you should not gulp it down all at once. That is pointless, unless you need it for nourishment." She licked her lips and replaced her glass on the tray. He smiled widely, traces of red now on his own lips. "I would have done. But I was afraid of that glass. I knew it was some kind of lizard. So I thought a quick gulp best!" "But less on my own drinking tactics and more on your own. You are being quite cheeky. You know the one you want to reach for. I bet it’s the only offering on this table that’s really appetizing to you. The others are mere candy." He gestured to the large glass. "So go on, please. As chef I insist. Once you have drunk it down, I promise we can talk as much as you like about my poor table manners." "You went to much trouble and I have no wish to be rude." She selected one of the other smaller glasses and lifted it for inspection with a slight scowl. "Are you sure this is blood? It is very... pink." "Have a try. I assure you it is. I did wonder if you might appreciate the rainbow of colour the life-essence of creatures on this side of the wormhole come in. From Vulcan green all the way to Bolian blue. These quadrants have such a variety in the anatomy of their species that humans once got confused and thought Klingon blood was purple! He licked the remaining lizard blood off his mouth. Sip and take a guess what it is. I'd like to see if you get close." "I am afraid that you have the advantage over me here. I have not had time to research even a fraction of Federation species," as she took a sip to sample the drink. Each was sampled in this manner while he revealed which species it belonged to, instructing her on their physical characteristics, strengths, and weaknesses. He also imparted her with knowledge on the best way to disable each one, both with weapons and without. She stored away the information for later use, convinced he could teach her far more than any database. They also brushed on topics of past, present and future aspirations. A common bond forming as they worked through the remaining samples. After Victria finished the last of the smaller glasses, she replaced it on the tray, wondering if she would recognize the tastes from a pure source if she ever had the chance to feed from a living person again. "Very interesting..." Atticus looked down at his off duty clothing. A few drops had escaped his mouth and stained his shirt. A pity, as the shirt was one of his favorites, but the experience of the evening far outweighed a single ruined outfit. The final cup lay on the tray, waiting. "Dessert?" Victria lifted the last goblet from the tray with both hands - almost reverently. She brought it close to her face and inhaled, scenting it as one might do with wine. Over the rim of the glass, her eyes met his and searched his expression. "Why? Why go to such great lengths?" "You've felt like a stranger here on Excalibur since the first day you arrived. Not even your Captain shows trust in you, even though you've cut yourself off from your own people. I felt it was up to me as your commanding officer." He struck a comical over-the-top-serious-hero pose briefly, then smiled and relaxed in his chair again. "But more importantly, as someone who wants to be your friend, to show you that you are not alone. At least less alone by one. " Finally, because she could no longer keep herself from partaking, she brought the glass to her lips and tipped it back, drinking greedily. Her eyes half closed in pleasure, she continued to drink until the goblet was completely drained. Careful not to spill or let any overflow, she savored every single drop and ended by licking the rim of the glass so as not to waste what little remained. She sighed softly as she lowered the glass back to the table, eyes still closed, unwilling to release herself from the experience. Relaxing, totally sated, she licked crimson stained lips and finally opened her eyes to stare at him. His own eyes were trained back at her. The Al-Ucardian's primal enjoyment of drinking from the cup not entirely unpleasant to watch. "I assume that was a little bit tastier than from a replicator?" "I wish I could explain the difference, but words are not adequate." She looked mournfully to the empty glass as she slid it back to the center of the table. "That's the first satisfying meal I've had since I left Al-Ucard." The Trill continued his study of Victria as he raised his left arm, unbuttoned his cuff, and pushed the material to his elbow, revealing his bandaged arm. "I'm glad you approve," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Trill." Glancing to his bandaged arm, she licked her lips again as if memorizing the taste. "It smelled of you, but then your scent permeates your quarters so I could not be sure." "You do realize that now I'm going to want seconds...?" Her gaze lifted slowly to meet his own, the blue depths mesmerizing. "Oh really? And who's to say that I am not going to have a taste of you?" He stood and slowly walked to her side of the table, perching on the edge and sitting just within arm's length. She smiled a slow, calculating smile. The tips of her fangs showing, she rose and moved in closer until they were only inches apart. "Doesn't your Starfleet frown on fraternization? You are my direct superior officer." Her challenging gaze as though daring him to ignore the regulations. "I don't think they'd mind too much. We are only sharing a meal after all. Just two colleagues enjoying each other's company and nothing more." The hand that slid round to the curve of her back and pulled her against him openly defied his words. "Sharing a meal. I like that." Her smile grew incrementally as her arms twined round his neck and she leaned forward to kiss him.

I've read "a stitch in time", the Garak life story one. It was pretty good. The sexual ambiguity of Elim was always interesting to me. (I still think he always wanted to get in Bashir's pants). And his idea of trying to shed light on the Obsidian order was very nice. I tried reading a couple of the other trek books but the writing felt I dunno, a bit sloppy, which has probably made me cautious about reading another even though there are likely other good one's out there. What really grinds my gears though, is the overall shoddiness of the graphic novels. The artwork is incredibly poor given the importance of the franchise. You'd think that with the amount of admitted trek fans in the comic writing community you'd find one of the greats who'd try to add to the canon in their own unique way.

Hey guys, Since every now and then we throw in a chat about non-trek shows I was wondering if any of you boys and girls across the pond had got a chance to watch Garth Marenghi's Darkplace. Its grown to cult status over here in Britain due to its absolute bizarreness! Basically its made to look exactly like a cheap action/drama show from the eighties and includes awful dubbing, terrible continuity, atrocious dialogue and very very very bad acting. It feels like watching an old pilot for show that you have to laugh at because its so rubbish! I bring it up with you guys because the show's plot premise is even stranger. Its set in a hospital where supernatural or extra terrestrial occurences for some reason randomly keep occuring. A few extras of the redshirt variety usually die horribly before the team of doctors take down the threat usually with nothing more than the plan of shooting or beating up the problem but pretend its all a really clever plan ala any eighties show. What puts the icing on the cake is they even do the pathetic laugh at a lame joke forever at the end of most episodes. It is sheer brilliance and a must for nuts everywhere. The team: Hero Pose! Chase the evil monkey! Broccoli mutation. So anyone seen it over there in the US (or in mainland Europe for that matter)? I hope the answer's no, then I have changed more geek lives for the better :D Cheers!

Two words. Mighty Max. God those toys were crap but I craved to have them all as a kid.

We are the Microsoft. You will lose all your workfiles the day before you need them. Rebooting is futile.

1. Saying "make it so" in casual conversation I did this one for a bit and it started to irritate people. Not cos they got it but because they thought I was demanding what I wanted that second. 27. You fly into a homicidal rage anytime people say, "Star Trek? Isn't that the one with Luke Skywalker?" What makes it worse is that when you do fly into a rage they always say something like "well its an easy mistake to make, they're basically the same thing" and when you try to explain the difference calmly they just nod and smile like you do at the crazy man on the corner who claims he's Napoleon. 29. You recognize more than four references on this list. Guilty as charged 32. Phrases like 'sentient being' start creeping into your speech patterns. Yep! All the time. 39. You find yourself executing the "Picard Maneuver." I noticed I do this one more and more if I'm drinking! When I go to the loo I stand up and firmly tug the shirt down. Everyone just stares quizically. 46. You avoid all stores that carry Trek merchandise for fear that someone will find out about your 'addiction'. :-) Not quite, I do go to the stores but I make sure that I only sneak to the trek stuff when they're not looking and if they see me I go "ha, who would buy that?!" while I cry inside for not being able to afford said item.

People want to be governed, but they don't like to be ruled. Its a human weakness in its contradiction. We need the alpha male, top dog calling the shots or it doesn't seem right but that same animal instinct drives us to want to change the balance of power to a more equitable solution. Dictatorships are great for control and stability as well as making long-term plans that can be overseen from start to finish without a change in policy but they're pitifully low on human rights to a terrible extent. Democracies allow growth of the arts, culture and public speech and allow a greater share of wealth but the beauracracy is endless. This is why Communism is a great idea in theory, a focussed collective, getting the best of both worlds but really, its impossible to implement on us mere animals. :D

Oh no! My ear's stuck!

The horror...the horror.

My God. I had no idea the situation he was in was so serious. Its strange how, even though most of us have never and probably never will ever meet eachother face to face we form these bonds with eachother as simmers. Though my time on Excalibur where I was able to chat with Xavier was short, I respected the imagination he brought to the experience and yeah definitely that character of his was pretty bitchin'! Pardon my language but it was! I'll miss the guy. I hope that if there is another place after this, he's in it, sitting in a hottub with Marilyn Monroe with a cocktail in his hand. I'll raise a glass to him tonight, I promise that.

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright. In the forests of the night,. What immortal hand or eye. Could frame thy fearful symmetry" - William Blake The night was cool against her pale skin as she ran through the city, hunting her prey. The Lucam beast loped ahead of her, but she gained with every stride. She could smell the fear it left in its wake, and the anticipation of the kill spurred her on even faster. The beast rounded a corner of one of the tall buildings and she followed, knowing instinctively that he would be waiting in ambush. The Lucam launched himself at her just as she cleared the building, but she had already darted to one side. Lengthened nails ripping through the beasts throat, she used him as a pivot point and flung herself on his back. She used her other hand to wrench his head sideways, exposing his neck. Fangs sank into the flesh, ripping easily through muscle and tissue. She continued to cling to him with tooth and nail as the Lucam struggled, reveling in the sweet, metallic taste of the creature's lifeforce. The Lucam weakened with every beat of its heart and soon ceased to struggle. When at last she felt the moment of his death upon him, she released him. The body fell to the street with a dull thud. Applause rang out from the shadows of a nearby alley, a single pair of hands clapping slow and methodically. A figure in Starfleet gold stepped out of the darkness... "Well done Victria. I'm impressed," the man said with an amused grin. "Now don't pretend you didn't know I was here, watching you. With a nose like yours, you could have smelled me a mile off. Did you especially enjoy letting me to see that?" Victria had whirled at the first clap and dropped to a crouch, ready to pounce on the intruder. She was not usually so careless as to let others approach unheard. Her lack of constant training these past weeks seemed to have weakened her. Blood covered the entire lower portion of her jaw, streaming from her mouth and chin and onto the dark clothing she wore. She licked the holographic blood from her lips, wishing it could be the real thing. "I was Hunting Lucam, not Trill," she shot back, blood-stained teeth flashing. Atticus took a few steps closer towards the Al-Ucardian. He had a look on his face, not of horror or bewilderment but of genuine pleasure at what he'd witnessed. "I hope you never do decide to hunt my kind Victria. We both know that I wouldn't stand a chance. Or maybe I'm just letting you think that to keep your guard down if you ever do try." He looked around and took in his surroundings before continuing. "Did you design this program all by yourself?" "The data came from the scans of Al-Ucard. It is passable. I had someone load it in for me and have been editing it since to fit my memory." Odd that he had no reaction. In her experience thus far, most humanoids were repulsed or frightened by her chosen food source. Wiping blood from her chin with her sleeve, she willed her pulse to slow, reminding herself that he was friend and not an invader in her territory. "Sorry, did you have the room reserved for something? I was just getting rid of some... frustration." She inhaled as she drew nearer to him, detecting his natural scent. "Not at all. In fact quite ironically, considering the topic of your program, I've been tracking you down here." Now within arm's length distance, Atticus knew she could sense the cells rushing through his veins. He showed that it didn't bother him. "I just wondered if you'd like to spend some time with...to put it bluntly, someone who didn't look at you like a character from some terrible ancient earth movie. Someone who won't stand there contemplating uses for garlic or crosses but will appreciate the beauty of the hunt and engage in meaningful conversation with you. I can't imagine what it must be like when every day feels like you're wandering a giant, living, breathing buffet." Her nostrils flared slightly and she bared her fangs, amazed he guessed at what she'd been going through. Again, she forced herself to calm, not wishing to give in to the urges that pushed at her. "You aren't far from wrong. It is sometimes... tempting, but if I'm going to be a valuable member of this crew, you and the others have to be able to trust me. It is difficult, but I've experienced worse." She shrugged lightly. "So how is it that you are so understanding? What makes you different from the rest?" He looked away from her icy blue stare towards the victim of her attack. It felt like her eyes, though extremely beautiful, buried into one's very soul. "I've lived for over three centuries Victria. It is after that length of time existing that I think one can finally appreciate the simplest of life's lessons... that not all is always as it seems." He mustered the strength to look back at her and stood as if he was on display. "For example, I wear this Starfleet uniform now and I would defend the Federation with my life, but in the past I've been many other things. A poet, a smuggler, a genius, a lunatic, a forger of treaties and an indulgent millionaire. But looking at me now all you see is a Trill in yellow. Like I said, it's taken a while for me to figure out something constantly drilled into everything we know, but I am very sure you, like me, are not all you seem to be." "Your body is not built to survive for such a lengthy period of time." She could feel his heartbeat and hear the pulse of the blood in his veins. And she could sense the -other- that he kept within himself. She took another small step closer, invading personal space as she was apt to do, and took another deep breath, testing his scent - his emotions. "You speak of the creature that you host?" She still considered it a parasite, but knew it was probably not polite to call it such. "I refer to my symbiont, yes. It carries all my previous hosts' memories. Even though Atticus Idarin was born his own man, when I took up Segami within my body, he changed into someone else entirely. And that change was more than just a last name. I was still the charming trill I had been before the joining but my conscious mind took on the weight of all those thoughts. There are two others like myself on board Excalibur, quite an amazing coincidence considering our low numbers. But each of us has spent our multiple lifetimes differently, and thusly we have each... evolved, one might say, into having very different views of life. So though this fantastic body of mine may not be 300 years old, I assure you Victria, I am." He looked straight into her gaze, his green eyes showing a warm look of wisdom perhaps... or devilishness. Her lips twitched into a slight smile at his revelation and she gave him a small amount of space, intrigued. "You are a mystery. Of course, I've only had a few conversations with you thus far, but I expected all Star Fleet types to be the analytical, over-thinkers. And here I find an ancient creature with a sense of humor." One brow arched in curiosity. "Tell me, when you came in here, what were you expecting? Did you expect to see what you saw? And did you take note that the safety features had been turned off? You are Security, so I am sure you are used to taking risks..." Atticus paused for a moment before answering. "I can't say I visualised in my mind's eye the exact image I saw, no. But that doesn't take away from its pure magnificence. I did notice the safety settings were disabled so I made sure I was close in case something went wrong. I'll take risks with myself Victria, but never with others, even if they move like lightning." "Now pardon me if this sounds strange but my point in visiting you like this was to offer you a formal invitation to dinner sometime soon. One night where you can get out your stress and aggravation without having to kill holographic animals even though you know the chase won't be the same. I promise I will be a complete gentleman and I'd provide suitable sustenance for you, just as long as you don't start thinking that I'll offer myself up as a sacrifice." He winked. She knew better than to think he had been offering himself, though she couldn't help but wonder how he might taste. Would the symbiont inside him add something? Would she absorb both of their memories as she did others? The Al-Ucard were long lived, but three hundred years worth of experiences was both very appealing... and very frightening. She responded to his wink with a sly smirk, letting him think what he would. "I saw the way your eyes darted left and right every time someone entered the bridge, how bored you got when I and other crew members talked about old times. I don't know about Chief Helios but I think it's important to know who you're working with, and I also think that you need a friend on this ship of strangers. Someone you can reminisce with and could join you for the occasional violent training session." She grinned at the thought of him trying to keep up with her training programs. "You are very observant for a non-Al-Ucard. I suppose if my eating habits don't offend you, and you trust me enough to not sink my teeth into you - in spite of the fact that I'd very much like a sample..." "A sample? I feel quite proud to be so appetising to your palate Victria, though I always did consider myself the best thing on the menu around here. But since you're not feasting on me at this current moment shall I take that as a yes to us sharing an evening this week my offer of friendship?" He offered his hand out to her to shake. Victria peered at his hand quizzically. He realized a few moments later that she was familiar with the custom. "It is a human custom I've picked up. A way of greeting others. I believe it was originally intended to show that one's hand was empty of weapons and that you came in peace." "What about the other hand?" She smirked as she clasped his with her own. Her ice-blue gaze shifted to the shadows, sensing others moving in the dark. "I think I could attempt to try out this thing that you call friendship... and see how it goes. I'm fairly certain that I have enough enemies. If I gain any more, I'll soon find myself tossed out the nearest airlock." "Computer, end program," she said as he released her hand. The city-scape disappeared and with it the Lucam that had just lunged from the shadows behind him, ready to shred them both ribbons.

Naah if it was I'd be perverted every day. I'm half-German :P

God. One day if I ever meet those damn standards I'll try to become a GM even if it just means servicing the Germans cos this is beginning to get ridiculous.

Boxformers! Pissheads in disguise.

Well...at least its beats Holiday Inn

::Dunk Dunk!:: Sheriff: Whoo doggie! That there moped's going faster than a jackrabbit at a Texas bake sale! Ride on Silver! We'll head him off at the pass! Horse: Please God, Kill me now. ::Fade to Black:: The criminal system is made up of two parts, strange men with cameras who just won't let the wild west go and the poor embarassed animals that they sit on. These are their stories... LAW & ORDER: TCOAHU (Traffic Control On A Horse Unit)

Yes its apparently because no-one from international timezones ever comes here asking...about the sims... B) Whoops! <_< ( A cheap shot, agreed.)

Heya, I'm in England so I get your query. Silly yankees. Okay... ET = GMT - 5 hours PT = GMT - 8 hours So for example the 10 PM ET Excalibur sim on Sunday night starts at 3 AM GMT on Monday morning. Hope that helps

The pirates, not the ninjas thou fooolish ass of dumbness. The ninja is pure and without any distractions like booze.

Well the pirates could be in port OR the ninjas cold sneak aboard their ship in the dead of night when they're all drunk on rum.

Hmmm, its really a question of quality or quantity. Ninjas are more kickass but they only move in small groups, sometimes alone, while pirates, though less graceful, always go in big hearty crews. I wonder which would win? Poll? <_<

Call me nuts, but the latter. A meaningless, undeserved death deserves more righting than a heroic one. Besides, is more 'fighting' really a solution, if there is a solution to murder at all? Since I don't want to start a burly brawl in a thread for the departed I shall silence my pie-hole here. May they rest in peace.

I dunno. I think that memoriam is fine. I respect the dead. But I find some of the flag waving and the hero roles forced on the victims a bit crude. You know, turning the whole thing into a victory of the spirit as such instead of just acepting it as a tragedy.

Since when did we have to do this… “Lieutenant Junior Grade Atticus Segami reporting for counseling” “Take a seat Junior Lieutenant. Feel free to lean back or lay down.” Lie down? Is this guy serious? Next he’ll be offering me a box of soft lavender-scented tissues and some kind of pillow to hit with a rubber bat. I mean, honestly. “No counselour I'm QUITE fine” “Something in your tone suggests otherwise.” My tone? Well ‘excuse’ me Doctor…(Zier was it?) for being a bit testy about wasting time lying on your sofa, while I could be doing something important! All right, Segami, smile, try to be genial, show you know what he’s doing and get the higher ground. “Heh, I like that, straight to business counselour. I've done the same before. Reminds of the delegation from arterius 4. Had to go straight for the balls". Every word...a mistake. But seriously I am quite fine sitting up.” “I try to make things painless as possible. IF that's what suits you.” Woah woah woah. Why’s he looking at me like that? Oh hell no, it’s a- “Betazoid huh?” “I am, but you’re changing the subject.” Yep, I knew I was right! Heh, you’re smiling but I know exactly what you’re doing doc, well scan away at my head cos there’s nothing to hide. Nothing. “Look Counselour. We were all on that fighter for a very short time and I assure you if I had anything bothering me it would be something worse” “Worse than what?” What was that? I twitched! Why did I twitch? I don’t ever twitch! I don’t think he noticed. “ Look thats not the point” “How you feel in general is the whole and sole point you are here.” Oh very droll, forgive me if I don’t look too surprised at THAT comeback… Oh and you can look at that PADD all you want but you aren’t going to get a record about my…history. Its not in there. I got those bits specially removed doc. “Look I feel absolutely fine. Tiptop, ladidah, the works" “Youre hiding something.” Damnit, will he stop staring at me like that?! God what if he does know about my past? No, no no, that’s just crazy. He’s only trying to mess with me. That’s what shrinks do. “I am NOT hiding something.” Why are you so stressed about counseling sessions? Cos you’re all quacks. “I just don't like the idea of being picked apart for no reason. For diplomatic purposes, sure but like this, pah!" “Picking apart ones' self can help you see the bigger picture.” Why, oh why, do they have to talk like that? “You doing the psycho-babble thing huh? Look I'm too old to get that kind of hocus pocus.” “What I mean is, life is like a big puzzle. Each piece you find or figure out helps you see the whole picture. In this case, of your life." I’m over 300 years old chuck and my life has NEVER seemed like a broken jigsaw puzzle. When I ever do feel like it is I’ll be sure to perform the Zhian’tara, get the ‘full picture’ and move on. Even meeting Marya would be more hospitable than sitting here. “Okay. I get it. Well I'm a completed puzle counselour, so can you tick me off and let me go? I mean you haven't even asked me about the fighter. You just keep telling me you don't like how i sit." “What was it like aboard the fighter? Anything bother you?” Here come the tissues… “Well. We were probably going to die. My captain was passing out from blood loss but apart from that everything was hunky dorey. Look I'm a security man. If I can't handle a little dice with death I'd be pretty useless.” “Hunky dorey eh?” Wow, he’s actually smiling at that! A surprise. The last shrink got tired of my bad sarcasm way quicker then this. Lets see if I can push it further. “Yep. I was a little aggravated at the fact that my attempt to save the captain from being dragged onto that thing in the first place had been in vain but apart from that I was cool as a delabian cucumber. Now can you PLEASE tick me off?” “You felt useless because you allowed the captain to be dragged aboard?” …bwuh? “No....I didn't feel useless. I just felt like i could have made a different choice. hindsight is 20/20 you know “It is. So in hindsight, do you think you could have done anything to get yourselves off that fighter after you were on it?" I’d like to see if you could have done much. You just sit around irritating people for a living. “Well of course I couldn't do much on that damned fighter. We didn't even understand their technology! But I was slightly annoyed I was on it in the first place. Now can you PLEASE tick me off counselour?” “I think that's it for now Lt.” Hallelujah. Enough whining and even Mr. congeniality had to give in. “Thank you....wait, for now? What do you mean, ‘for now’?" “Oh I'm sure we'll see each other again some time.” No chance of that happening anytime soon on my watch chief. “Yes, when I have my psyche report a year from now...right?" “It's more like a few weeks. This doesn’t count as your annual.” Damnit. He’s not saying what I think he’s saying? “A few weeks? Why?” “That's when your next schedules psych eval is Lt.” He IS saying what I think he’s saying!” “I'm fine!” Oh what’s the use? He’ll probably go above my head and force it anyway. Just act nonchalant. “Alright, alright. Well thank you for this session doc, it was most nostalgic for me. Its been decades since I had a it of good psychology." Now shake his hand, leave the room nice and calmly Spotty. Resist calling the silly man a lot of names and get yourself a drink. Now a glass of scotch, that’s therapy.

Well, at least he never got beaten by a croc. :P I loved the guy, he was always a standing joke of course but that was what made him so cool. He was nuts, and he knew it and was proud of it. I am quite saddened at his passing.