MajorZStarDust

"I want to be a Marine," Ziggy replied, his tone sincere. Hayden kept her eyes focused on the sutures she was repairing. She didn't look up, didn't nod, just kept sewing. This entire situation upset her greatly. She knew that Ziggy was trying to keep the situation light hearted. He knew how she would be hating the idea of having to have a *coming to Jesus* meeting with him. And on the one hand she thought it was sweet of him to try and make this easier for her, and on the other it pissed her off to no end. First Officer meant dealing with personnel crap, the good and the bad. Friend or not. The last thing she could afford is to have the crew thinking she was some kind of creampuff. Hayden stood and began to put away her medical supplies, "You already are a Marine." "No! Not up there, I'm not," he exclaimed, pointing up toward the Bridge. "Up there I'm just a Fleet Officer to the Battalion. Everyone on this ship, including the Marines, sees me as just another Fleet officer. I need to be with my troops.. I mean Dana's troops. ANY troops." He sighed and looked at the floor, the time for banter was over, this was serious. Ziggy remained quiet for a few moments and then looked up and over at Hayden, who was still packing away her kit. "I want to be transferred back to the Battalion." His eyes begged her to understand as his words couldn't. "Dac, I can't put it into words. Please tell me you understand." Dac turned and locked her eyes on his. "What I understand is that you left this ship, and in the name of "bonding" got into a bar fight that left you severely wounded, and several other bar patrons dead. What I understand is that you, and your complete disregard for authority, left sickbay while still under medical attention." Hayden advanced on Ziggy, "What I understand is that you've been treating me like some cute little piece of horseflesh, under the guise of flirting, trying to make this dressing down easier for me." She saw his expression change and his mouth come open to interrupt. "It's my turn to talk, Mr. StarDust. We've served together for years, been friends for almost the entire time, and suddenly to turn on the charm and the witty banter -- for what? To ease my discomfort in having to reprimand a fellow officer? In the hopes that any disciplinary action I recommend to the Captain will be lessened?" Ziggy stood, his eyes hard, "I don't want my conduct to be overlooked, Commander. I will take the punishment that is due. I had, in error, thought that you would understand my need to be with them." Hayden snapped her medkit shut, missing for a moment her position as CMO. She handed him a scrub shirt to pull on and he snatched it out of her hands. "I've recieved a message that the Captain wants to see you and Dana immediately. Holodeck One." Ziggy turned and walked stiffly to the door. "Ziggy," Hayden said quietly, "I understand the need to do the job that calls to you, the job you love and would do no matter what the pay or conditions." He turned to look at her, his eyes a mixture of anger and hurt. "As soon as the Captain is done with you, you are fit to return to duty. I was your friend, long before I was your First Officer. I still am. Report to Lieutentant Colonel Quest. I've already assigned you as her new XO. Now get out." He stared at her for a moment, unsure that he heard her correctly and then nodded. Not a smile, not a smirk, not a comment, but his eyes softened as he turned out of her quarters. Major Ziggy StarDust Executive Officer Marine Battallion 355 USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E Commander Hayden "Dac" Dacotah First Officer USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E

Hayden pushed him forward and started cutting off the blood soaked bandages. "This," she said briskly, "meaning the uniform? This, meaning the lacerations on your back and abdomen? What about a head wound that would explain your behavior." "No.. well, I don't think so. That new sickbay doc only wanted to know what kind of knife I got stuck with, like I could see it. He never bothered to tell me what all my wounds were." "If you had stayed in sickbay like you were supposed to, you might have gotten a full report. Not that it would have gotten through that thick skull. Now," she said as she started to gently peel away the blood soaked bandage, "what's with the uniform, Major?" "It fits. Well, it did, before your slice and dice rou-" Ziggy stopped himself from yelping as Hayden ripped away the remaining bandage. "-tine. That hurt!" Hayden was unapologetic. "I repeat, if you had stayed in sickbay. Of course, if you weren't such a medical challenge..." "You wouldn't love me so much," he jokingly interrupted. As Hayden started cleaning his wounds, he quit talking and ground his teeth. She was being gentle, but he had suppurated all over his chest and back, and there was only so much she could do. There was a soft hiss and he felt his wounds go numb from the hypospray. "I will admit you keep my field skills intact." Hayden stared intently as she began repairing stitches and putting new ones in. "Now ... uniform." "Ah ... well, you know what they say about women going gaga over a marine uniform." "You are not a woman, at least not the last time I checked." "Been checking?" He tried to turn and grin at her, but she made him hold still so she didn't lose a stitch. "I meant, they love a Marine, IN uniform." "I've never noticed you having a problem attracting women." "Other than you..." She smacked his shoulder. "I want off my TDY to Fleet." "Why? Something wrong with being on the bridge, or is it just those of us in Fleet uniforms?" "I'd rather see you out of the fleet uniform-" The whap on the back of his head made the room spin. "Ow! No.. nothing wrong with a Fleet uniform, or being on the bridge. I like tactical, and I loved being helm." "Well, I know that it can't be some male urge to blow things up, you get to do plenty of that at tactical. And make a bigger boom." "I belong with them, Dac. I've been flirting with being a Marine my whole career, back and forth with being a Fleet officer. I guess having all the marines on board made me realize that's where I belong, where I've always belonged." Hayden finished up with the stitches on his back and placed a bandage over the wound. "Lean back now so as I can have a look at your chest." Ziggy opened his mouth to say something but Hayden waved a needle in front of his face effectively cutting off any comment. She leaned forward, taking in the work her colleague had done. "Looks like that new doctor did a fine job putting you back together. You only split a few surface sutures." She knelt down on the floor in front of him and began cleaning his chest. Her fingers worked deftly, repairing the surface sutures. Satisfied with her work, she set the needle down and applied a fresh bandage and then settled back on her heels looking up at Ziggy, "So tell me, what is it that you want?" Lieutenant Commander Ziggy StarDust Tacitcal Officer USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E Commander Hayden "Dac" Dacotah First Officer USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E

Change of Uniform LtCdr Z StarDust Tactical Officers Personal Log Ziggy watched as Dana crossed around the foot of his biobed and approached Marty. He could see the hesitation in her step, she looked like a horse ready to bolt, but approaching something scary out of curiousity. Carefully she stepped up alongside Marty and took his outstretched hand. They stared at each other for a long moment, both afraid that saying anything would be the wrong thing. Finally Marty broke the silence, his voice raw with emotion. "That Marine uniform looks good on you." Dana bit her lip and nodded, not sure how to reply. "It fits you. I mean, you being a Marine, and a Colonel, and in charge of security. I always knew you would. GO far, I mean." Dana's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Thanks." She stared down at Marty for a moment. "Speaking of the uniform, I have to get back. Get some rest." She was all business again, as she turned and walked out. Ziggy watched her leave, seeing in every step how she was restraining herself from running out the door. Dana never had been very good at dealing with stressful personal situations, and this had to be the worst. Suddenly, back from the dead, were her aunt, who had been almost a mother to her, and her lover. One at a time would have been bad, both together had to be incredibly difficult. And it wasn't just that they were back. Now she was going to have to explain to them all that had happened in their absence. David, Kelly's son, had runaway to be with Ambassador Moose, and without the right technology, Kelly wasn't going to see him any time soon. And then there was trying to explain to Marty how she had had a child with Ziggy, thier best friend. Right on cue, Dr. Telano approached. "I warned you to rest." He grumbled at Marty, but there was no malice in him, just worry over his patient. Without protest Marty let the good doctor apply the hypospray to his neck and drifted off to sleep. "How are you feeling?" Dr. Telano poked at Ziggy. Unlike how he was with Marty, Ziggy knew the doctor was still angry with him over the whole slave situation. So he didn't complain as the doctor poked and prodded at all his sore spots. "A little tender, but fine." He grunted as Telano poked a really sore spot. Telano huffed back at him. "You got off easy. I think you are ready to return to duty. *Light* duty." With that, the doctor headed off to check other patients. Ziggy slipped off the biobed. Gently he leaned over and kissed Kelly on the forehead, and then headed out of sickbay. Walking down the hallways he felt lost. He knew his presence would not be welcome whereever Dana was. And he had no idea if Samantha would want to see him either. In his quarters, after a long shower, he sat down to check mail. In the middle of it all was a short note from the Captain. During the shore leave that had started the whole search to find the slave ring, Ziggy had asked about the opening at Tactical. And here, buried in the middle of his mail was a short note welcoming him to the position. Leaving the rest of his mail behind, he headed for the bridge. Once there, he headed straight for the ready room, and entered when called. As he stepped in and took up the position of attention in front of the Captain, he could feel Moose's eyes looking him up and down. "I believe you are out of uniform, Mr. StarDust. At ease." Ziggy relaxed slightly and looked down at Moose. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about." "Yes?" "I have been transferred to Tactical?" "Yes. Per your submitted request. Like I said, you are out of uniform." "So, I'm not a marine anymore?" "I am working on the details, but Tactical doesn't fall under the Marine COC, so you need to be in a Starfleet uniform. I take it you have been released from sickbay?" "Dr. Telano released me for light duty." "Good. I believe your shift starts in half an hour. That should give you enough time to change." With a slight smile, Moose turned back to the padds on his desk. Knowing without having to be told that he had been dismissed, he headed back to his quarters to change. He wondered how Dana was going to take this. He hoped she wouldn't think he was deserting her, but tactical was a chance for him to advance. He had hoped he could stay a Marine, but if it meant moving back to Starfleet, he would accept the change. Standing in front of his mirror he pinned on his Lt Commander pips, hoping there hadn't been a change in his rank too. It felt strange to be back in a Starfleet uniform, he had gotten used to being a Marine. As he stepped onto the bridge and took up his post, suddenly it felt right. No matter the uniform or post, he belonged on the Arcadia.

Lightning stole my words! It has been interesting with Enterprise to see more emotional Vulcans with the nomads, and there has been a lot more discussion on teachings of Surak and such. The episode where T'Pol meets the Nomads it is revealed that Vulcans do have emotions, but they are repressed by logical teachings and meditation. I think Dumbass has a pretty good theory going with evolution and the capacity towards logic. I never could play a Vulcan.. I guess I am too in touch with my emotions or something. However, I used to play Deltans. I developed a whole culture for this race, down to government, religon and daily life. There is very little Trek lore written in stone about them, other than they are supposed to also be a logic type race. I never played that part up.

ROFL!!!

:: doesn't know why Zig thinks Garn is gonna hit him, but since Zig thinks so... thwaps Zig :: I ducked!!

Wanna talk about hickville? I can't even get standard TV cable here.. has to be sattalite. They did tell us the other day that we would be able to connect to the internet using cable or broadband... they expect to have that in place in 3-4 years! But hey, we are on the list!!

Could we actually do a Cardassian sim? Weren't they pretty much decimated after the Dominion war, and therefore the sim would be simply trying to rebuild? Granted, I did miss alot of the last couple of seasons, so I can't make a true judgement call. I actually voted for other. I did a Maquis sim several years ago and it was awesome. I know there aren't any Maquis anymore.. but the sim could take place back then. I also did a sim one time, like 9 years ago, that was planet based. If I remember correctly (kids destroy brain cells) we had a Federation colony as well as non-Federation. It made for an interesting sim as you could actually have more than one plot working. It does take some experienced simmers tho to keep it going as it can either get confusing or off track really easily. And then I did a couple of sims once based on a group of covert officers. One was regular Starfleet and the other was Marines. Each was a small sim with tons of NPC's, and two of the best I ever did. Of course.. there could always be a sim about pirates in Federation space.. :::waits for Garnoopy to hit him:::

Subj: Lost Date: 5/21/01 4:11:30 AM Eastern Daylight Time From: FLt Z StarDust Lost. That was how he felt. Like the time when he was two and had wandered away from where his mother was working and had gotten lost in the endless folds of earth near the Lakota tribe. He had been found several hours later by Dana's father, under a tree, feeling quite miserable. Ziggy felt that way now. The worst part was that he knew right where he was. All in all, promenades from one station to the next were pretty much the same. And there was no way to really get lost on a promenade anyway, with a computer to locate any place you wanted, or give a menu of choices outside every establishment. Even without a computer Ziggy always was able to find the location he most wanted: the grungiest, most out of the way, scariest tavern on the station. And he had found the one on Starbase 331 twenty minutes after arrival. No, his sense of loss had little to do with location. It was emotional, and tequila, no matter how rotgut, was not going to change the way he felt. Moose was gone. Not that Ziggy had had the best relationship with his Captain. He had first been branded by his relationships with Kelly and Dana Quest, whether for the good or bad, Moose had been standoffish with Ziggy as a new officer. Then Ziggy had had the audacity to date the Captains favorite (and only) niece. While simply dating her had caused tension, it had begun to ease when circumstances had forced Ziggy to end the relationship. While some had understood Ziggy walking away from Sam when they thought she needed him the most, everyone else, including Moose, had not. Forbidden to see her by the Captain and the CMO, Ziggy had immersed himself in being a friend to David. And when the time was right, he and Sam had reunited, discretely at first, and later openly. Ziggy had never been able to determine whether or not Moose supported their relationship after that, and he had quietly avoided the Captain, glad of his move from helm to security. And then there had been the accident. Fired on by long lost enemies, Ziggy had returned to the Arcadia sans half his face. It had refused to heal, leaving a blow to his masculine pride he hadn't been able to recover from. Pride? Was that really it? Or had he merely been looking for an excuse to end his engagement to Sam, to return to his free wheeling days of loose women, wine (tequila) and song? He knew that's what Dana thought, but Ziggy had seen it as so unfair to Sam to saddle her with his misshapen face when she deserved someone as beautiful as she was. Knowing he would not be welcome on the Arcadia under Moose after dumping Sam (a second time), he made the decision to do something he had thought about after all those late night drinks with Marty Umberti, (the only man Ziggy had ever considered good enough for Dana, and whom she had declined to marry) Ziggy applied to, and was accepted into the Marines as a fighter pilot. How little did he know that it was a decision that would change his life in ways he could have never foreseen. After experiencing difficulties with their shuttle, he and Marty had been captured by pirates. (Yes, folks, there are such things in Trek!) But these were no ordinary pirates, they were led by a woman, a woman on a mission. A woman who looked like Sam. Her cousin, the spawn of Tom Riker, Rochelle was everything Sam was not. It was like someone had taken a mirror image of Sam but made her taller, with salacious curves where Sam's were innocently attractive; ambitious and cruel where Sam was caring and thought only of others; knowing and worldly where Sam was innocent and naive. His time as Rochelle's *boy-toy* had proved to Ziggy that he really loved Sam, that his walking away from her had been the single dumbest move he had ever made. It had also changed his life. The beatings at the hands of Rochelle's minions had permanently injured his eye. After his *rescue*, the Marines had been able to offer him no better than an officers position. But his post on the Arcadia had remained curiously vacant, and now that the ship was returning from Coalition space, there was a need to replace key crew. He had a chance to return, to try and make things right with the two women who meant the most to him. Ziggy had walked back onto the Arcadia to be greeted by a surprised, then distressed Sam, a fainting and intoxicated Dana, and a slightly bemused Moose. It was not the return he had been looking for. His first meeting with Moose had only precipitated further angst when the Captain he had so believed in, the one he knew would listen when all others had turned a deaf ear, had also denied his request. Kelly would remain lost. Knowledge of her Aunt's possible whereabouts, and Moose's refusal to investigate had only fueled Dana's animosity towards the Captain. And she had refused to hear anything he had to say about Marty, once she knew he had not returned with Ziggy. He still had not been able to apologize for being unable to save Marty, a crime he would spend the rest of his life trying to rectify. And Sam. After explaining to her about Rochelle things had finally turned. A wall of tension had melted away along with whatever illness Sam had brought on board. He knew he had no chance of taking his former place as her lover, but he was willing to settle for the friendship that was reforming between them. Like his mostly mended face, they were friends with scars on their relationship. Maybe someday things would change, but for now he was willing to settle for what he could get. Yet here he was, on the first shoreleave since returning to the Arcadia, and he was drinking alone, in the seamiest place he could find, as if he were still an Academy student looking for a wild night on the town. There had been no one to ask to join him on the station: Dana was taking a shift on bridge security (to avoid the possible drunken conversation wherein the truth of Marty might come out, in his estimation), Sam was busy shopping, and he wasn't ready to do that with her, it would be too reminiscent of more intimate times, Marty.. was dead, David to young, Moose too lofty, and now gone, like Khiaara, and Mahrle... Jer had been with Dana the night of Ziggy's return, and Ziggy wasn't ready to have a drink with Bob, Bob quite yet. So he was sitting in the seamy bar, feeling lost. Wondering if his return to the Arc had been the smartest thing. Did he really still fit in on the ship? So many were gone now, friends and otherwise. Not that he felt sorry for himself, merely he wondered if he should have simply chosen another assignment. Maybe things would be different with this new captain, whomever it might be. As if on cue, his comm badge (carefully shoved into the deepest recesses of his jeans pockets) piped up. Dana was insisting on his return, no arguments accepted. With a look of apology to the worst imitation tequila in the galaxy, he lumbered from the table, slouched under the mock low ceiling, and made his way to the nearest transporter room. Maybe things would be different... Subj: Memories in Dreamland Date: 11/13/01 10:38:48 PM Eastern Standard Time From: LtCdrZStarDust Memories in Dreamland LtCdr Ziggy StarDust USS Arcadia Ziggy felt the burning, searing pain in his chest, and then blackness overtook him. Dreams and memories blurred together in his mind. It was like watching a holodeck sim of his life played out before him, with all his thoughts, dreams and inner demons out for all to see. He kept turning, seeing different segments of his life, jumbled together. It was enough to send him running, but everywhere he turned, another memory, another event slammed him around to view another. Ziggy's damaged psyche revolted and he retreated away, turning into himself, with nowhere to go. "Ziggy? Are you real?" He turned at the voice, and saw someone approaching. Kelly stepped out of memory. "He's real, alright. But he's mine now!" Another woman stepped from the past, Samantha's look-alike cousin, Rochelle. The two women squared off, as if to fight over him, and he had no say in the matter. But their swords were memories. The first one rolled over him, and he was caught up in it. Ziggy watched as he stepped into the shuttle with Marty, in preperation to leave the Arcadia. The two men, good friends, had looked forward to the time together, male bonding before their lives became reversed: Marty had left the Marines to join Starfleet, Ziggy was leaving Starfleet to join the Marines. Each had had their own reasons. As they flew slowly through deep space, they had spilled their guts to one another. Marty confessed he had proposed to Dana, but that she had refused him. Ziggy tried to help Marty understand why, though he hardly understood it himself. They were made for each other, and for the first time Ziggy had been pleased with the man Dana had chosen to share her life with. Ziggy finally explained why he had left, and broken off his engagement with Sammy. Their turbulent relationship had finally seemed on track when he had surprised everyone by ending it. He knew Dana felt guilty, though she had no reason too. If she had not rescued him from the ship after the console had exploded, even if it meant leaving half his face behind, melted into a console, he would not be alive. It hadn't been her fault that he had developed an allergy to traditional burn treatments that had led to permanent scarring on his face. But that had led to his decision to leave the Arcadia. It had all began with the first trip he had made through the halls on routine patrol. People stared, and than a group of happy children had coming running around a corridor and run straight into him. They looked up, and Ziggy smiled at them, forgetting his disfigurement, until the children ran from him, fear in their faces. It was the first step towards his leaving. The mask he had made for himself had not been enough to stop the looks, people whispering as he walked through the halls of the Arcadia. It might have been a big ship, but it was only a small community, and he had become the resident freak. And Samantha? She had deserved better than being married to someone who could only bring her pain. No matter where they went, the question would always remain, Why was such a beautiful woman with such a hideous looking man? She deserved happiness, not exclusion because of his deformity. Marty didn't agree with him, but he had understood. And he was the only one the Arcadia who had supported his decision to transfer to the Marines to become a fighter pilot. The trip, begun happily, yet with troubling questions, had become a nightmare. Ziggy groaned as the treatments Virax had tried only made the burns worse. A deep seductive chuckle rang in his ears. Their shuttle had been attacked, Ziggy and Marty kidnapped for their knowledge. He had watched as Marty was killed before him, refusing to divulge the information the pirates had wanted. Rochelle had stopped her men from killing Ziggy. Overwhelmed with guilt at Marty's death, wishing for his own death, he had been easy prey. Rochelle made Ziggy her plaything. With her telepathic and psychic abilities she had forced his personality far beneath the surface. His base emotions had come to the fore, and he willingly let it happen. Who knew the forces it would unleash.

There is a lot of italicezed text in the real log.. but I can't get it to post, so if some of this stuff seems confusing, I apologize. Subj: Waking in Netherland Date: 10/12/00 3:19:55 PM Eastern Daylight Time From: FLt Z StarDust The horse was galloping across an open plain, heading for a steep hillside. He lunged up, and his rider leaned forward, moving with the stallion, feeling the powerful muscles beneath him bunching for each lunge, then a tremendous surge of power. He could feel his hair whipping in the wind- Why was his hair whipping in the wind? Wasn't his head shaved now? And if not, where was his hat? For that matter, where was he that he could be on a horse? As his senses returned, he could feel the throb of steel deckplates under his back, feel the heat of a compact, overworked ship. Smells assaulted his nose: unwashed bodies, strong spices, fear, coolant, they eventually brought him to conciousness. Below him he could faintly hear a murmur of voices around the hum of an engine. Not moving, he listened, and was sure it was some sort of warp engine. As he lay there, every line and joint of the mesh-like deckplates beneath him sent painful messages through his body. They were not carefully plated over with carpeting to cushion and control noise like on a Spacefleet ship. Slitting his eyes open he dared a look around, saw nothing recognizeable in the dim light and closed his eyes again. He wanted to move, but had no idea if doing so would attract the attention of someone who would make him feel even worse. He let himself drift back to sleep, hoping to find the stallion again in oblivion.... >

Subj: Captain's Log, Stardate 10009.19 Date: 9/19/00 10:43:28 PM Eastern Daylight Time From: HOST OGF Moose The Arcadia drifted past the viewport every sixty minutes. Each time Moose had been about to quit, but the sight of the grand vessel with work docks attached to its underside spurned him on. How many times had it nagged at his conscience? Ten? Twenty? He had lost count. He was not about to loose count of the deaths, however, that had occurred since their encounter with the Sea Tiger and their discovery of the Coalition. Carl Wills was the most recent. The official report listed his death as accidental. Carl was caught in an explosion while trying to reconnect a loose plasma conduit. But so many things about his death made no sense. First of all, you had to suspend disbelief enough to agree that the conduit was loose due to routine wear as opposed to sabotage. Next, you had to accept the fact that a man who was raised on Utopia Planetia and had the plasma flow diagrams from every ship in the fleet memorized, would be careless enough to effect a repair of that magnitute live instead of sutting down warp core down for thirty minutes. That just wasn't like Carl. At least, not the Carl he knew. The library terminal in front of Moose blurred as his eyes rebelled from exhaustion. He closed them momentarily, but the action brought him no rest. Instead, his mind raced through the disaster again, looking for the logical loophole that would help him make sense of it all. It was fortunate that Pratt and Hudson had been able to eject the warp core. None of them would be here now if they hadn't. Although he would never admit it, Moose was impressed with Pratt's tenacity. He was rising to the challenge of rebuilding his life and career. Even though physically Pratt wasn't a darksider, mentally he was, and that was difficult conditioning to overcome. As his thoughts lingered on Tracy, Moose was again reminded of Carl's uncharacteristic rashness. Maybe that person wasn't Carl Wills? They had abandoned their search for darkside infiltrators when Tracy's true circumstances were discovered. Perhaps this was very in-character for the Wills from that dimension. The darkside Wills was believed to be dead. But the darkside Wills was the twisted genius that had taken Carl's psionic amplifier and evolved it into the cursed psionic enhancer, a device which had almost permanently turned Moose into a telepath. Returning from supposed death was not something to put past him. The body was vaporized in the accident, a cover masking the return trip home perhaps? Recent transporter logs may hold a biological clue. Moose wondered why it was only evil people who seemed to return from the dead, but immediately felt guilty for the thought. In another timeline, Khiaara had done just that. But even then, she had been a shadow of her former self. Raishel claimed that this was why she altered the timeline to prevent Khiaara's passing. So in effect, Khiaara had come back from the dead twice. Yet in neither scenario had Moose done anything to change the nature of their relationship. He seemed destined to waste it no matter how many chances he was given. As much as Moose wanted to blame the darkside, they were still the secondary suspects. If the darkside had sabotaged the Arc, then they never would have bothered with the shuttle Buutebyte. This implied that the deaths of Umberti and Stardust were truly accidental. No, there had been too much death for someone not to be to blame. This left the woman in the cave as the prime suspect. She claimed to be of the Benai, and destroyed the Epsilon Wave Generator after the most basic scans had been taken. Moose was here in the library painstakingly checking the databanks for the slightest mention of this race. Raishel tried to talk with her telepathically, but the woman answered vocally. This implied that she was not a full telepath. Instead, her abilities seemed to be extramly focused on a single telepathic ability, the power to control the actions of others. But was this a natural gift or an artificial ability? Could she control people silently or did you have to hear her words to be affected? How many Benai were there and what was their connection to the Coalition? The answers were not coming out of the Federation databanks. Moose closed his eyes in exhaustion. When he opened them, he was grateful that the station had rotated away from the Arcadia. He took this as an omen. His research was pointless for the moment. It was time to abandon the books and tend to the needs of the crew. They had suffered much these past few weeks. Moose knew that if they could not solve the mystery of the Coalition, that it would just be the beginning. Cptn Moose USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-D >

Our always intrepid Miss Riker found some old logs stashed away and sent them along. I think they might be helpful to those of you who haven't been here since Moose was an Ensign. :o For those of you that have been here.. You might remember that the *Buttebyte* came from RL events on the way to Vegas..... Subj: The Best Laid Flight Plans.... Date: 9/4/00 3:11:14 PM Eastern Daylight Time From: FLt Z StarDust The Best Laid Flight Plans First Lt Ziggy StarDust Lt j.g. Marty Umberti Onboard the shuttle *Buutebyte* The shuttle lifted smoothly off the deck and headed out the bay dooors. Ziggy coordinated with Jeremy at OPs, leaving the flight plan, saying one last goodbye. Marty waited til they had cleared Arcadian space, then pushed the little shuttle to warp. With the route mapped out, Marty engaged the auto-pilot, and then leaned back in his seat. "Ready for the Marines?" He grinned at his friend. While he was glad to see Ziggy was moving on, he also hated to see him go. "Are the Marines ready for me?" Ziggy grinned. He was going to miss Marty too. Outside of Dana, Marty was his best friend, the one person he could count on to set him straight. "Not with that mask on, they ain't." Marty frowned, still unable to understand why Ziggy was wearing the horrid thing. Slowly Ziggy pulled it off. "Guess it can come off now. It was mostly for the crew, the kids, on the Arc." He took a deep breath, realizing that he had, in a way, been hiding behind it. Climbing back from the small cockpit, he tossed the mask into the recyler, then ordered two synthahol drinks from the replicator. There was no question of having the real stuff, they were flying and needed all their senses, even if they would be relying on the auto-pilot for most of the trip. Who knew what could happen. Taking the drinks with him, he slid into one of the two bench seats along the walls that served as seats, beds, and luggage racks. Folding down the table that fit between the two seats, he pulled out a battered tin case and set it on the table, along with the drinks. Inside were two decks of well worn cards, rows of chips tucked into special holders, and a carefully folded square of green baize, with tiny weights sewn into the edges to hold it flat. Spreading the cloth on the table, he began to count out chips. Marty came back and slid onto the other bench. Taking a deck of cards, he began to shuffle. They played poker for several hours, Marty telling Ziggy some of the more interesting tidbits of Marine life. In turn, Ziggy told Marty some interesting tidbits about Dana as a child. They spoke of nothing serious, like the relationships with the girls. After some time, Ziggy stretched out on the seat to sleep. Marty played solitatire for awhile, deciding he was better off with poker. Tired of cards, he slipped out of his seat and back into the cockpit, if nothing else he could run some tactical simulations. When he took his seat what he saw was enough to make any sleep hiding in the corners of his brain flee in terror. They were off course. A few quick checks showed they had somewhere turned 38 degrees, not all at once, but slowly over the last several hours. The scariest thing about it was not that they had veered off course, but what could have been in the flight path of the tiny shuttle to smash them to smithereeens, or fry them, or obliterate them. He began to wonder if they would make it at all....

In the quarters of Marine Lt. Col. E.D. Quest Dana Quest sat in in full battle uniform, minus her battle armor, holding her sleeping infant son in her arms. She stared at two things sitting on her desk before her; trying to fathom whether or not the Captain was going to do what Dana knew needed to be done, Prime directive be damned. Get their people. Leave no one behind. Captain Moose....this "new" Moose, not the one she'd first come aboard and reported to when she joined the Arcadia, and grown to hate over time.... had not committed himself when she had talked to him. But, something in her told her "this" Moose was a different man, and something in her wanted to trust that he would do the right thing. She would never have trusted the other Moose to do so. And the "other" was now her Cousin David's adopted father. It should have been "this" Moose. The universe was fouled up beyond belief. She gently kissed Michael on his forehead, and her eyes glanced at the computer screen where she read again...for maybe the 20th time, the Last Will of her aunt, Commander Kelly Quest, Executive Officer of the USS Falcon, lost with all hands in the battle for Cardassia.... It wasn't the standard taped last will and testiment.....the one generally updated when battle is near.....sterile in it's environment. Kelly Quest was dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, standing next to a remarkably beautiful Appaloosa mare. First appearances gave one the feeling that an *info-mercial* was forthcoming. Her hands carressed the animal's face a moment, and then the camera....apparently operated by another person....panned over a beautiful expanse of land. When the camera panned back to her, Kelly looked into it and smiled warmly. Then she spoke... "Hello, David. Since you are watching this, that time that you and I spoke of on occasion has come. I am gone. It's a time that comes for all of us, David, and you must not become bitter because of it. And, remember, where ever this journey has taken me, I will always love you." "My last wishes are simple; you and I have already discussed most of them. This ranch is to be yours and Dana's..equally. There are over a thousand acres, so I'm sure you can keep from getting in each others way if need be." Kelly smiled and her eyes were bright. "I want Bess," she nodded toward the mare, and stroked her mane, "to go to Ziggy. Besides me, he was the only one she's ever taken to. The rest of the herd, goes with the ranch, of course." "There are some papers that I have sealed and left with the JAG office in San Francisco. They are for Chris.....Captain Moose. If you are still a minor, David, I am requesting that Chris become your legal guardian. It's no reflection on Dana; but she's young, and has a lot of growing to do herself. I know she'll understand." "There are so many things I wish we'd had time to share. Life is so very short. I wanted so much to see the man that you will become.... to watch you become a father...... But, time has caught me up. The life I chose comes with these risks." "Where ever your path leads you, son, remember that I am proud of you....and I love you very much. Tell Dana that I love her very much, too." Kelly paused, "And, when you see Chris......tell him.......tell him....." She smiled. "Tell him I love him, too" Her image faded...... But, now Kelly was reportedly alive...and so was Marty. Marty.....Dana let out a sigh, and remembered that it was the day that she and Ziggy had held the small service for Dana....no remains, ofcourse....on Earth, that Ziggy had found out by accident that she was carrying his child....a child that should be Marty's. Marty had left no Will. He'd never followed protocol and made one; something he'd been reprimanded about on several occassions. Her last moments with him..before he and Ziggy boarded a shuttle to take Ziggy to Marine basic training were short. He'd handed her a small box. She glanced at the open box sitting next to her compter terminal, open. "When I get back, we'll open that," he'd said with a smile. She remembered how many times he'd proposed to her. And how she'd always turned him down, not believing families belonged on starships. Marty and Ziggy had both been reported killed in the explosion of the shuttle. Ziggy returned. Marty did not. Ziggy told her he'd seen Marty die in a prison they had been taken to. She glanced down at the sleeping child. How things changed. She was so torn. She still loved Marty. Yet, she'd also realized that she loved the father of her child too. It had all become so complicated. Why hadn't she just married Marty, and lived life as it came? Others did. Now she refused to marry Ziggy. He'd proposed many times before, and after Michael's birth; but this man loved Sam Riker, and Dana knew it. He would be father...never husband. The chime on her quarters startled her, and when she jerked, it woke the baby. Without Dana even realizing she was near, Katie appeared and took him "I got him, Cuz'. Time for him to hit the sack anyway." Dana kissed him once more, as she handed him to Katie, then walked to her quarters door, activating the open control. There stood Ziggy and Sam Riker. For a moment, Dana felt a flush of jealousy as Sam smiled sweetly at her. Their eyes locked, and Dana felt a sudden unease. The eyes..... ................

Ziggy knew it had to be too good to be true. When he had come onto the bridge from sickbay, all he had intended to do was let the Captain know Telano had decided he was sane and telling the truth. Ziggy had no intention of letting the captain know that Telano was not happy with Ziggy himself. But as he stepped onto the bridge he got a shock that nearly rocked his faith in his own memories. Her back was to him, but he knew it was Sam simply by the way she stood. The soft way a few hairs curled against her cheek from behind her ear, the dulcet tones of her voice as she spoke with Moose. He had missed why she was here, but heard something of Starfleet Intelligence, and then her backing up what he had been saying about the slaves. Almost simultaneously, two thoughts went through his head. She's confirming everything I said! They have to believe me now! This is too good to be true! It can't be Sam! As she stood there talking, he would have sworn he could feel her in his head. It had to be an illusion. When they had first been together, Sam had taught him about Imazadi, the Betazed word for beloved. But it was so much more than that. With some exercises she had honed his mental capabilities and eventually they had been able to communicate, on a limited basis, telepathically. That tie had brought them back together once. Ziggy had long since thought that any ability remaining had been destroyed when he had been Rochelle's captive. Once she had given her report, Moose had him show her to the quest quarters. It was kind of strange, since Sam already knew where they were. But he supposed the reason was to clear both of them from the bridge, and allow a reunion of sorts. They stepped into the turbolift, both unsure of what to say or do, and then he was holding her again. He heard her words of explanation, but in the back of his mind was still the thought that this couldn't be happening. It was like a daydream, not reality. The last time he had seen Sam she had been aloof, but polite. He had hoped that might soften into friendship at some point in the future. He had never imagined tho that she might soften enough towards him to want to resume a relationship. Everything in his mind was screaming that this wasn't Sam, it had to be Rochelle, or someone else. But his heart disagreed. She carried herself like Sam, talked like Sam, felt like Sam. He knew Rochelle, knew the slight differences, and this couldn't be her. But his mind kept saying that Rochelle would be pushy, assertive, and well.. clingy. When he expressed his doubts, she turned away and his heart froze. They had fought hard for one another, fought against one another, and he had done it wrong too many times. This might be his only chance, and he couldn't throw it away, no matter how much his mind said it wasn't her. As she turned and walked away, his heart won the battle, and he ran after her, shutting down all doubts. Perhaps if Sam hadn't been a security officer before moving to medical he would have realized his mistake when they reached the shuttle bay. Her easy way with the weapons identified her as one who was more than familiar. Ziggy had run through training programs with Sam, so he never even thought twice about it. All was going splendidly... When he came to his senses on the Blue Note, his guilt and shame were overwhelming. If he had gone alone with her, then Dana and Zukko would not be here, about to be subjected to Rochelle's delight in torture. When she raised her hand to slap him, he knew to duck and turn away. The best way to protect himself was not to fight, fighting her only made it worse. As he caught Dana's eye, he expected to find anger and accusation in them. Instead he saw understanding and realization. She had known about his torture under Rochelle, but being here now confirmed something else. He was telling the truth about Marty. The daydream had ended, the nightmare had only begun..

Shore leave just wasn't the same anymore. Especially on a pleasure planet. There was a time when Ziggy could have given himself over to the opportunities abounding on such a place, but no longer. Beaches weren't the same without Sammy. Bungalows were too romantic to sleep in alone. What fun was there on a pleasure planet if you had noone special to enjoy it with? That wasn't all. For months it had been weighing on him that he knew Marty was alive, but hadn't told Dana. When the memories had come back they had been fuzzy and unclear. In all his reports about his kidnapping he had stated that Marty had been killed, to encourage Ziggys cooperation, but now he knew that it had been a ruse. He remembered Marty being barely alive, left behind when they took Thomas Riker. The mind control he had been under had played with his memories, and even when he did remember that Marty was alive, it was a long time before he could believe it was true, and not just some false imagining. The guilt he had carried for so long was not eased by the fact Marty was alive, it was heavier. Marty was his best friend. But more than that, Marty had been Dana's lover, had wanted to marry her. Yet what had Ziggy done with that friendship but stomp all over it by taking advantage of Dana when they had had too much to drink and fathering her child. It should have been Marty's, not his. At least he had an excuse for not telling her Kelly was alive, he had been ordered not to. Sometimes it felt like it had all happened so long ago, and other times it seemed like yesterday. As time went on, he pushed the memories away, knowing that the time wasn't right to make a rescue. And then he had gotten comfortable, complacent, content. So what if Dana hadn't married him? She loved Marty, but she had turned him down too. They were still friends, and she was wonderful about sharing Michael with him. And of course there was Michael himself. Ziggy loved his son, and didn't want to think of the guilt involved in his conception. When the Vogart had *possesed* him, Ziggy had come away with the knowledge that it was all different now. He couldn't ignore the memories, and if they hadn't put the Arcadia in a position to find out what he needed to know, he would have approached Moose. Orders may have been orders, but this Moose wasn't the Moose he had been ordered not to talk to. Miren IV had long tried to lure some of Risa's lucrative tourist business. It's remote location had not helped, as it had been hoped. And while most people were willing to look past slave labor, others were not. Ziggy had known about the planet, known it had slaves, but hadn't known the connection til now. It was the one piece of information the Vogarts had made sure he remembered.. everything else of his possession was forgotten. He had come to on the Arcadia with one thought in his head. "You will find the answers you seek here." It seemed simple, but the memory wasn't just a phrase. Vogarts saw things on many levels, and the simple phrase ran through his head with memories attached. Kelly standing on the knoll overlooking the ranch, Marty laughing on an away mission, the jumbled rescue, Sam face entertwined with that of her cousins. Images of slavery. "You will find the answers you seek here." Ziggy knew that Miren was just the starting point. The slaves here came from somewhere... someone.. else. Once they found who, they could find where Or vice versa. If only he could mke them see....