will_marx

Marx sat in at his desk in his family quarters aboard the Arcadia. His wives were asleep in the bedroom, as was his and Shampoo’s daughter Hayden. He was glad that they had opted for option 3 when they were asked what family quarters they wanted. Option one was a two bedroom suite with a queen in the master suite; option two was the same but a king size bed; option three was the same as the others, but had a California king bed; option four, which was rarely even exercised, had a California king with three suites. Marx chuckled ruefully. In about five months they’d be putting in a new request for quarters to option four. SD: 10411.2, 0000hrs Federation Standard Time It seems weird to be back on the Arc. Just this time last month, Ranko, Shampoo and I were in discussions with Tiffany & Co. to provide high quality natural gemstones to the 500 year old company. Definitely a landmark for Antietam Ranch, one I’m sure Dad might have appreciated. Maybe. Anyway, we had decided to take an extended vacation on Risa, except that changed when the Kissinger pulled into orbit after the Arc. And man, was she beat up. Although with N’Dak driving, it doesn’t surprise me. Hayden and I caught up on what’s been going on since I left to cover Mom in the day to day operations of the Ranch. I was actually glad to go to Earth for this meeting with Tiffany. I should never have listened to her, but Hayden convinced me that I should return to the ship. Seems she missed her niece, but I thought that a convenient excuse for something else. As it was I relented, and wound up sitting in my old assignment, wearing what I was on the beach—Bermuda shorts, Hawaiian shirt, sandals and a white cowboy hat. I could have sworn I heard Sis mutter that Dad spent too much time watching an old Earth 2-D series called “MASH” and it had a bit of an influence on me. C’est la vie. So here I am, back with my original assignment, pretty much a passenger. I will say, though, the quarters are much nicer than on the diplomatic courier I had “acquired” from Starfleet HQ, Rhydin. Some how I doubt the ship will be going anywhere near Rhydin, since it is quite near the Beta Quadrant, so I don’t think I’ll be seeing home very soon. William Marx, Lt. Starfleet (Reactivated) USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E ((OOC Note: For those of you who are new and unfamiliar with William’s unique family life, or have simply forgotten it, feel free to refresh your memories with his bio :P ))

UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS STARFLEET COMMAND STARFLEET PERSONNEL COMMAND -=/\=- RECORD ACCESS -=/\=- CLASSIFICATION LEVEL: CONFIDENTIAL/NOFORN SD: 10403.17 NAME: Marx, William John RACE: Human SEX: Male AGE: 26 HEIGHT: 2m WEIGHT: 90kg RANK AND PAY GRADE: Lieutenant/O-3 ASSIGNMENT: USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E DUTY POSITION: Flight Controller/Astronavigator NEXT OF KIN: Seriana Ravensward (Mother), ADM (Ret.) Lilliana Gunji (Stepmother), CDR Hayden Dacotah (Stepsister) (MIA), CDR Hunter Dacotah (Stepbrother), Virginia Marx (Sister), Ranko Marx (Wife), Xian Pu Marx (Wife), Hayden Marx (Daughter) CAREER HISTORY Lieutenant Marx was assigned to the Arcadia-D straight from the Academy, originally assigned to the Science Department as an Astronomer/Astrophysicist. He was transferred to the bridge, at his own request. One of his more notable achievements while assigned to the Science Department was the creation of a synthetic intelligence known as HAL. HAL is designed to ease user interaction with the main computer, and to provide automated diagnostic and power distribution routing. The Arcadia D and E are the only ships in the Fleet so equipped. HAL is often heard at times arguing with another synthetic intelligence resident on the Arcadia's main computer, known as Harvey, usually regarding ship's disposition and company. HAL has since been deactivated, due to potential psychiatric instability. Pending psychiatric evaluation and reprogramming, HAL may be brought back online. At this time, psychiatric consultation with members of Starfleet Medical and the Daystrom Institute indicate that HAL should remain off-line due to severe paranoid schizophrenia, coupled with a moderate level of obsessive-compulsive disorder. PERSONAL HISTORY Lieutenant Marx is the second son of late Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx and Seriana Ravensward, and has a twin sister, Virginia, currently on faculty at the Vulcan Science Academy. His mother still resides on Rhydin. His stepmother, Admiral Lilliana Gunji, retired as Commander, Temporal Disturbance Investigations, and is serving in the Diplomatic Corps. Her children, William's step brother and sister, are Commanders Hunter and Hayden Dacotah, and are serving as Chief Engineer, Utopia Planitia Naval Yard, and Executive Officer, USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E, respectively. Two other elder half-siblings, Ensign (Dr.) Crystine Marx and Lt. Commander Christopher Marx, Jr., were killed in the line of duty. The causes of their deaths have been deemed Top Secret/SCI or higher, and are beyond the scope of this document. Lt. Marx, while growing up on Rhydin, trained in Musabetsu Kakutou Saotome-ryu (Saotome School of Unrestricted Grappling/Anything Goes) martial arts, and is considered a 3rd Dan in the school, and holds master level certifications in several, more orthodox unarmed martial arts styles. During his time at Starfleet Academy, Rhydin, Lt. Marx was continually compared to his half-brother, who graduated in the top ten of his class, while William tended towards the bottom of the middle third of his class. His grades put him in loggerheads with his father, even though Admiral Marx retired from Starfleet as Rhydin Sector Commander on the day that his youngest son left for the Academy. There are, however, unsubstantiated reports that the eldest and youngest Marx were already fighting between themselves, regarding the younger's future training and spouse. While the younger Marx was undergoing rigorous martial arts training with the founder of the Musabetsu Kakutou Saotome-ryu, Saotome Genma, the Admiral agreed to have his son marry Sensei Saotome's daughter, Ranko. The betrothal was duly recorded by the Nerima city offices, and is a matter of public record. As is the Lieutenant's second betrothal to the Amazon warrior Xian Pu. Just prior to the Lieutenant's entry into Starfleet Academy, Marx and the Saotomes were involved in a martial arts tournament in a village just outside of the boundaries of Antietam Ranch (see below). In an accident, Lt. Marx was given the Amazon Kiss of Marriage after defeating the village champion, Xian Pu. In an unfortunate turn of events for the young martial artist and Starfleet Cadet, the local authorities chose to follow Amazon laws and traditions, thereby recognizing the second betrothal. Lieutenant Marx was married to both his fiancées in a traditional Joketsuzoku ceremony while on leave, on 10309.15, and have since returned to the Arcadia. On SD 10403.15, Xian Pu Marx gave birth to the newest Marx-Hayden Marx-under the care of Arcadia OB/GYN Dr. R. Westheimer. Their daughter was named after her aunt, currently listed as Missing in Action. FAMILY HISTORY The late Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx was the first captain of the USS Antietam, NCC-1798-A, the lead vessel of the Antietam-class carrier/battleship. Marx commanded the Antietam until his first retirement as Rhydin Sector troubleshooter, holding the rank of Commodore, except for a stint as Commandant, Hostile Weather Survival School, Keflavik, Iceland. Marx was pulled out of retirement following the firing of the Rhydin Sector Commander, Fleet Admiral Hiro Nakajima, by Commander, Starfleet; promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral, and assigned as the new Sector Commander. The reasons for this occurrence are classified at a level higher than Top Secret/SCI, and are therefore beyond the scope of this document. During Marx's first retirement, the Admiral began purchasing the 25000 square kilometer Antietam Ranch, an area roughly half the size of Bosnia-Herzegovina. However, due to the intervention of a junior third-level functionary at the Rhydin Bureau or Land Management, several small, non-aligned villages and towns became part of the Ranch, making the Admiral not only one of the largest landowners on the planet, but also a national leader. To quell the possibility of revolt or riot in his new territories, in his later capacity of Sector Commander had the sector Starfleet Corps of Engineers introduce modern sanitation, power distribution and transportation network to the new nation. The Admiral also introduced a parliamentary system of government for the citizens of the Ranch to enact laws for their citizens, and to allow for the Prime Minister and to run the new nation while the Admiral was away. By default of Rhydin being a Federation member, the new nation entered the Federation, and the Prime Minister also acts as the Ranch's Ambassador to the sector council. Several veins of blue sapphire and diamonds were found within the territory of the Ranch, and environmentally friendly mining techniques were implemented. Several inconclusive battles were fought with the Joketsuzoku; a matriarchal tribe of warriors with ties to the Amazons of mythology had been transplanted from the hinterlands of China. Admiral Marx also tried political maneuvering and a peace treaty to peacefully have the tribe come into the boundaries of the Ranch. All attempts were rebuffed, until the Admiral's youngest son defeated the village champion and received the Kiss of Marriage. The Admiral accepted the validity of the native custom, and allowed multiple marriages as a valid marriage type. The Amazon nation, led by Xian Pu's great-grandmother, Kuh Lon, were welcomed into the borders of the Ranch. The Admiral's first wife, Captain Jennifer Rand, served as the dedicated communications officer for the USS Antietam, until her promotion to the rank of Captain and assignment to the USS Blackhawk. Due to the nature of both vessels missions, relations were strained severely enough to warrant separation and divorce. Captain Rand remained commander of the Blackhawk until its destruction under unusual circumstances. Those circumstances are classified, and beyond the scope of this document. Their first son, Lt. Commander Christopher Marx, Jr., served on the USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-D, from SD 9505.00 to 10005.15, in the capacities of assistant science officer, Security Department Executive Officer, under then-Commander Christopher T. Moose, and Tactical Officer. Commander Marx also served in an unofficial capacity as the Arcadia's Special Operations Command operative, having undergone training at Starfleet's Special Operations School, Ft. Benning, GA, NorthAm, Sol III. During his time serving on the Arcadia, Commander Marx was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder regarding the death of his fraternal twin sister, Ens. Crystine Marx (see below). Various methods were used to treat the disorder, but was never successfully treated. He was killed in the line of duty after leaving the Arcadia. The circumstances of his death remain classified Top Secret/SCI due to the nature of the mission, and are beyond the scope of this document. Their daughter, Ensign (Dr.) Crystine Marx, served aboard the USS Antietam in the capacity of Medical Officer, from her graduation from Starfleet Medical Academy, with a degree in traditional internal and xenomedicine, until her death. The circumstances surrounding her death are classified at a level higher than Top Secret/SCI, and are therefore beyond the scope of this document. During his first retirement, then-Commodore Marx met and subsequently married Seriana Ravensward. Two children, a second set of fraternal twins, resulted from the marriage--William John and Virginia. After his reactivation and subsequent promotion, Admiral Marx's relationship with his second wife became strained, resulting in an inevitable divorce. The Admiral received joint custody of the twins, until receiving full custody at the request of his ex-wife. Virginia graduated from the Vulcan Science Academy with degrees in Mathematics and Theoretical Mathematics, and is currently serving on the faculty of the esteemed institution. Upon the Admiral's death, due to natural causes, Antietam Ranch was divided into six equal parts-one portion going to each surviving child or their spouse. MEDICAL HISTORY Lt. Marx suffers from a genetically inherited allergy to the Retnax-series of ocular treatments, forcing the Lieutenant to wear eyeglasses. This allergy was inherited from his father, and has occurred in all three Marx males. There are no limitations to the Lieutenant's duty assignments as a result of the use of glasses. Psychological Profile Due to an incident while undergoing martial arts training on Rhydin, Cadet Marx exhibits a severe, almost pathological, fear of deep water. The incident, an attack by a predator native to Rhydin known as a "hundredtentacles", involved a young William Marx actually being eaten by the creature. As a result of the attack, Cadet Marx cannot be in water any deeper than 15 feet for any prolonged time. If he is in deeper water for a prolonged length, agitation and nervousness begin. If he has not been removed, catatonia will set in, as he withdraws himself to protect his very sanity. The catatonic state will last until some twenty to thirty minutes after removal from the deep water to shallow water or out entirely. I have tried multiple treatment methods, without successful results. The patient remained unaffected in water up to 15 feet in depth, but the moment he was placed in deeper water, agitation and nervousness set in. After prolonged testing, the patient entered a catatonic state, slowing down his metabolism and respiratory rate, throwing the monitors into panic mode. Group therapy, hypnotherapy and medication did nothing to prevent the patient from going into his catatonic state when placed in deep water. The only way that I found that did not cause the patient to enter a catatonic state was when his sense of honor was required. When I asked him about this, the patient advised me that his sensei always told him 'It is the duty of a martial artist to protect the weak.' It is my recommendation that the patient be waived from deep water training, and to be assigned where the possibilities of encountering deep water will be minimal, as he may present a risk to his shipmates if he were to enter such a situation, unless his sense of honor is required. Signed: /s/ S'Freud Staff Psychiatrist Starfleet Academy, Rhydin QUALIFICATIONS Lt Marx is a qualified pilot on atmospheric-only, trans-atmospheric, and exo-atmospheric craft and is a qualified helmsman on Galaxy and Sovereign-class starships. He is also qualified on all manner of internal combustion powered vehicles. Although he prefers not to use weapons, he is qualified on Type I and II phasers, stun grenades, and more traditional edged weapons. He is also a qualified maintainer of radial and turbine internal combustion engines and a licensed aircraft inspector.

Your presence is requested and required for the memorial services of Hayden Dacotah, Commander, Starfleet, and executive officer, USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E. Services will be held in Shuttlebay One, with reception to follow in Ten Forward. Formal dress required. William T. Moose, Captain, Starfleet Commander, USS Arcadia NCC-1742-E Marx looked at the missive sitting on his desk. Moose had sent out the notifications on paper, something the young lieutenant hadn't seen since his father died. Even in the Academy, the Admiral would write his son on paper. "So, the Captain is declaring her dead. I know in my heart that she isn't," he muttered. "Sometimes I wonder if there's an actual curse on my family. Crystine, Chris, Dad, and now Hayden; all lost. Only Ginny and Hunter are still around." "Will," Ranko said, "you're getting morbid. Your dad was retired when he had his heart attack. And I remember him saying that he more than exceeded his wish of dying on his hundred and fourth birthday and that Lil still looked like she could be his great granddaughter. And Chris died on some secret mission, and he knew the risks. "And you know as well as I that Hayden is still alive. And Shampoo knows it too. So quit feeling sorry for yourself, and get dressed. Or do I have to beat you again?" Marx nodded. His wife was, as usual for either one, correct on this issue. Although playing chicken with the Arcadia and a clocked Talon made for some fun. Especially with Lt. Garnoopy yelling at him to change course. The way t'Rex had treated them was so inconsistent, it was to be considered obnoxious, and it felt good that he had Moose's permission to almost ram the Romulan starship. -------- The ceremony was a solemn affair, with the Marines breaking out the antique M-14 rifles and blanks. After Moose said a few words, the seven man honor guard, under the command of CSM Jackson fired off three volleys out the open shuttle bay. Even though he'd been through three military funerals for family before, the volleys still brought a tear to his eye. The only thing that was appreciated by her stepbrother was the fact that Moose didn't have a coffin for Hayden, so there was no flag presentation either. Marx wasn't the only one sniffling at the ceremony. Most of the crew was. Hayden had been a powerful figure on the ship, both as Chief Medical Officer and then Executive Officer. She'd treated, at one point or another, most of the crew from the Arcadia-D. Both Ranko and Shampoo, dressed in formal kimonos, freely wept for their sister-in-law, if for no reason other than her being a prisoner without being able to contact her family. As the trio was making their way to the reception, Shampoo gave a loud gasp. "Airen, I think my water broke." "A month early?" The lavender-tressed Amazon nodded, even as a contraction swept through her. "Computer, new destination. Sickbay, medical emergency." The lift smoothly changed directions, and bypassed other nodes to get to Sickbay as quickly as possible. Marx and Ranko led the Amazon mom-to-be into the delivery suite. "No, husband," Ranko said. "This is not your job. You just wait out here." When their husband began to protest, the redheaded martial artist held up her hand. "While you've been playing your soldier games, darling, Xian Pu and I have been attending her Lamaze classes." They both smiled at him. "Relax, airen," Shampoo said. "We?ll be fine." As he sat in the waiting room, Marx could hear Shampoo cursing him out in Mandarin, Japanese, English, and a few other choice languages she'd picked up on. He stuck his head into the delivery room. "Relax, darling." "Relax," she cried. "You did this to me!" And then she began to publicly, and loudly, proclaim her husband's ancestry as very questionable. Marx blushed, and, as a stainless steel basin was flung his way, pulled his head out of the delivery room. As the delivery went on through the night, Marx was busy wearing a hole in the carpet with his pacing. Until, he heard a slap, followed by crying. The ship's OB/GYN, Dr. Westheimer, came out. As short as Kuh Lon (about three foot nothing) and just as wrinkled, she called for him to come into the suite. Lying on the bed, her lavender hair sweaty and matted down, was Shampoo. And to Marx she looked as lovely as when he married her. Ranko walked over to their husband and hugged him. "Congratulations Dad. It's a girl." She whispered into his ear: "Now when is it my turn?" Marx blushed bright red, even as they walked over to the Amazon. Who was busy cradling their child. "Congratulations, Airen. You're a dad." "So, what should we call our daughter?" "I was thinking of honoring her aunt, whether or not she's dead, and call her Hayden." "I like that name."

As the shuttle pulled away from the Talon, Marx looked around the crowded craft. Between the Marines, the away team, and the recovered prisoners, the shuttle was as packed as a New York subway car at rush hour. "Where's Hayden," he asked. Not getting an answer he asked again. "Where's Commander Dacotah?" Moose made his way to the lieutenant. "Mr. Marx," he said, "she didn't make it. I'm sorry." "Sir, what do you mean she didn't make it? This is Hayden Dacotah we're talking about. She'd crawl through Hell itself if there was a chance that she'd be alive when she was through it." The Captain noticed that Trichon was freaking out in the aft compartment of the ship. "Mr. Marx...William, there's nothing we can do about it. She's dead. If you will excuse me, I have another crewmember that feels the way that you do. Schedule an appointment with Andrea when we get back." ((Moose, apologies on stealing your character and making him seem?a little brusquer than normal. Hope you enjoy your time in the sun.)) With a sigh, the overcrowded shuttle touched down in the Arc's shuttlebay. Medical teams were waiting for the prisoners, evaluated those that needed immediate medical attention. Marx signed off on a medical release, refusing the ministrations of the ship's resident mad scientists...er, Dr. Telano and staff. Granted he had suffered a mild concussion early on in the mission, strong enough, though, to knock him out. But he suffered no loss of motor faculties. All he needed was a new pair of glasses. And the Arc was familiar enough territory that he could make his way to his quarters--and his wives. As he walked through the ship, noting blown out panels that still hadn't been repaired yet or scorch marks in the corridors, Marx also noted the ship was a lot more...muted, would be the best way to describe it. It was as if the "supposed" death of his stepsister dampened the crew's morale. Well, that and there were fewer Marines around. He paused at the door to his quarters. The uniform hung on him like a flag. One meal a day and meditation was not a healthy thing. He knew that he was malnourished, but it was part of the psychological battle that he waged with his captors. He also admitted to them that he had no technical knowledge, so was spared the ignominy of being pressed into a disaster control team on the Talon. In fact, his interrogation sessions with t'Aehjae were something out of a Duck Dodgers cartoon. But he was always consistent with his misinformation, something he had learned from his father's history lessons. If the disinformation is consistent, then the bad guys will believe it. Taking a deep breath, he entered his family quarters. ------- Ranko was just coming out of the shower, when she heard the corridor door whoosh open. Xian Pu was curled up around a pillow, still asleep. Seven months pregnant and it was really showing on her. Of course, the Amazon was a slim, muscular young woman anyway. The ship's OB/GYN, Dr. Westheimer, had told them both that Xian Pu was going to have twin girls. She smiled at her co-wife, who suddenly woke up and grimaced in pain. "Anything wrong, Sham-chan?" "You no call me 'Sham-chan'. I is Shampoo," she joked with her co-wife, in pidgin Japanese. She slipped into Joketsuzoku-accented Mandarin. "It feels like the girls are sparring in there, Ranko." The redheaded martial artist smiled. "Just tell them that when they're old enough they'll have to go on a ten-year training trip with my father. "Someone just came in. I'm going to go see who it is." Shampoo nodded, but didn't get off the bed. Carrying twins was just too much work for her, especially when they started to kick and fight. The Amazon watched her co-wife slip on a robe, and walk out of the bedroom. From the living room, she heard the Japanese girl suddenly exclaim: "Will, is that really you? Oh my god!" Shampoo quickly got off the bed, and waddled into the living room. Standing there, with Ranko glomped on to him tightly. The lavender-haired Chinese girl leapt and tackled both of them in a python-style glomp. Between the two of them, Marx was slowly turning shades of blue, purple, and even started going through the various Scots tartans. "Can't...breathe..." he gasped out. No torture devised by t'Aehjae could come close to defeating Marx, unless she got perverted. The two wives both relaxed their glomps but didn't want to let go of him. "We were so worried," Ranko said. "Between your not being recovered from that alien derelict, to the shots being exchanged by that Warbird, we had no idea what was going on with you." "It's not right for our Airen to be in the line of danger like that," Shampoo added. "Your job is to steer the ship. And whoever was doing it while you were gone needs to have a refresher course in starship handling. Dow El could handle this ship better, and she's never been out of Jusenkyo. And don't give me the Saotome 'It's the duty of a martial artist to protect the weak' line. That was something that Genma kept telling you, so he could feed his fat belly." Marx smiled at the concern his wives were giving him. It's good to be home, he thought. "I need something to eat...something filling. And I need my spare pair of glasses." "I'll start cooking," Ranko said, as she reluctantly let go of her husband. "I go get your glasses airen," Shampoo said, slipping into her singsong English. Both their actions made Marx smile, and seemed to lessen the pain he was feeling. "And I'm going to take a shower and a long soak in the furo." "Aiyaa! You do that, airen. You smell worse than sty on hot day in July in middle of drought." "And you definitely need to shave, anata. That beard just isn't you," Ranko added. "Although it you do look distinguished, it really isn't you." Marx smiled again, and headed into the bathroom. The remains of his uniform were only fit for recycling, if that. Turning the water on to fill the furo, he adjusted it until it was on the just on the hot side of comfortable, before turning the water on in the shower, and adjusting it hot and stepping in. The hot water beaded and pulsed, trying to break through several weeks of accumulated sweat, grime, and blood. Marx let it soak through his beard and hair, before reaching for the shampoo (not his wife, the hair care product) and did a "rinse, lather, repeat" several times to get it clean. Wiping the steam from the mirror, he lathered up his beard, and with his father's old straight razor began cutting away at the several week old beard. "Christ," he muttered, as he shaved, "I look like a Kris bloody Kringle spent some time at the Hanoi Hilton." It took him several times before he got his face baby smooth again. Of course, as he continued to bathe, his face started growing rough again. His body finally clean; Marx shut the water off in the shower, and climbed into the furo. The caress the hot water gave his sore body was better than anything either of his two wives could do, not that he'd tell them that. He settled into the hot water with a sigh, and let it do its magic against the abuse that t'Aehjae and her cronies, including t'Vixen, subjected him to. "Normally, I'm against eating while soaking," Ranko said, as she brought in a tray laden with food, "but I'll make an exception this time." Shampoo followed her holding a pitcher and three glasses. "It's orange juice, not beer. You need Vitamin C, airen. Although I know you refuse to drink any alcoholic beverages." The Amazon looked at the redhead. "That's not what you said the other night, Ranko-chan," she said with smirk. With her face turning as red as her hair, Ranko retaliated. "((Which has been edited out because this is a family program. But pull your mind down in the gutter, and you'll get the idea. O_O )). So there." Shampoo turned as red as both her co-wife and their husband. She made a motion under her nose at Marx. The lieutenant wiped his upper lip, and noticed blood on his fingers. "Heheh. Sorry. It just sounded like you two had fun while I was away." Both women had stripped down, and climbed into the tub with their husband, one on each side. "We did, but we still missed you, anata." "Ranko's right. We missed you." The wives took turns feeding their husband the sumptuous feast that Ranko had prepared while he was in the shower. Marx's face turned serious. "Hayden's been declared dead." Both girls looked at their husband, shock and sadness on their faces. "Somehow, I don't believe it. Sure they tortured us, but they also took care of us, medically. They fed us, the brig cells were somewhat decent, and when they asked us, we provided assistance to get their ship in some form of working order. "Moose won't even declare her just 'Missing in Action'. He took the word of the Romulan captain at face value." Setting the bowls of food aside, the wives snuggled next to their husband. "Hayden would have made a too too good Amazon. She followed ancestor Rol Lon's philosophy of 'Don't just fight, fight with style.' Although in her case, Hayden no shimai (sister in law) would have made it: 'Don't just fight, fight with style and dressed to kill'." Shampoo said. "True, the few times I sparred with her, she was quite the dirty fighter. Oyaji would have been so proud to have been her Sensei." "Someone's going to have to tell Mom." All three of them shuddered at the prospect of facing Lilliana Gunji, even if it was via subspace radio. Ranko and Shampoo both hugged their husband tightly, but not a glomp, as a tear fell from his face. "Maybe if you talked to the ship's counselor about it, Will, she might be able to convince Moose that Giri no Shimai (again, sister in law) is still alive," Ranko suggested. ------ As the wives slept, Marx slipped from the bed, although it was made a little difficult by Ranko not wanting to lose her warm, snuggly teddy bear. Throwing his yukata on, he wandered over to his desk. He didn't know what the time differences were between where they were and Rhydin, so he set up to record a message. The Lieutenant wasn't even sure if Moose had even bothered to send an "official" notification, so Marx was going to make it an unofficial notification, and also throw in some other family related news. He flipped the terminal on. "Computer, begin recording, and encrypt to Marx Alfa One Bravo." It was a weak encryption, designed to keep a casual hacker from looking in, but easily broken if Operations had anything to do with it. "Ready." "Hi, Mom. Sorry it's been so long since I last sent a message, but you know the life of a Starfleet Officer is fraught with peril. I have some good news and some bad news. I'll start with the bad news. "Do you remember when Chris was declared Missing in Action after he left the Arcadia four years ago? You remember, when he was on the Special Operations mission to infiltrate the Dread Pirate Roberts' crew? And he was declared dead when they found his body vacuum frozen in the holed runabout" "Well...Hayden's 'dead.' I don't know if Captain Moose sent out the official notification, through proper channels, but she's dead. "I can't go into particulars since the mission is highly classified, but we were on an away team mission together. We were investigating a derelict ship, when we were attacked by Romulans. I got knocked out, and the next thing I know, I'm in a brig, with several of my crewmates who were on the bridge of the derelict with me and Hayden, but no Hayden. "We were held prisoner for several weeks ((I assume the sim was linear in time? And apologies if I'm mistaken)), and our captors kept insisting that Hayden was fine. "We were interrogated for any information that would be relevant, and Dad would have been proud of me. I kept our captors on their toes, feeding them stuff from old Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck cartoons. And I was consistent about it too, which should have made them believe me. "But I saw neither hide nor hair of Hayden the entire time. And I can't stop feeling that she's still alive. Not just metaphorically, by keeping her memory alive, but physically. It's unnatural that I feel this way. I'm going to try to talk to Captain Moose again, about it, go through our counselor about it, try any way, shape or form, to get the command to recognize it. Since I didn't see Sis dead or alive while I was a guest of the Romulans, I just can't take the word of a Romulan at face value. I guess there's some part of Dad inside me. So if you don't hear from me, or you hear from either Ranko or Shampoo before I send you another message, I'm probably locked in the brig of the Arcadia, as a 'guest'." Marx chuckled. "There hasn't been a Marx locked up in this ship yet to christen the brig. I figure I might as well be the first. "I do have some good news, though. In about two months, you're going to be a grandmother. Shampoo is pregnant with twin girls. She wants to keep up with the 'hair care product' names, but I'm going to try to convince her against it. Personally, I'd like to have another 'Lil' in the family." Marx stifled a yawn. "It's been a long day, Mom. I'm going to go back to sleep now. I love you, and take care. "End recording. Transmit to 'Lilliana Gunji-Marx, c/o Antietam Ranch, Rhydin.'" "Message queued for transmittal..." Marx turned off the screen and climbed back into bed with his wives.

Marx stood in his quarters, pondering. What, exactly he was pondering had to do with the open arms cabinet in the living room. Sitting inside the cabinet were all manner of Oriental weapons that his wives brought with them from Rhydin. He followed his sensei’s belief, as did his wife Ranko, that being a weapons user makes you weaker; but was still proficient, and tried to maintain proficiency in those weapons that he was trained in. Of course Xian Pu beat that out of him a few times while they were sparring. He retrieved several shuriken, both cylindrical bo shuriken and star-shaped hira shuriken. These he secreted in several locations within the set of his father’s old Air Force woodland BDUs and webgear he was wearing. One tanto was sheathed up a sleeve of his shirt, another placed in the top of his jungle boots. He looked at the katanas and thought about them. This mission was a swoop and scoop—retrieve three missing crewmen and return to the ship; the samurai katanas were too big for this mission. The wakizashi, on the other hand, was small enough, as was the smaller of the ninja katanas. They both went on the pistol belt. The collapsible baton was just enough non-lethal force, and went onto the pistol belt. And the zatoichi sword, which looks like a walking stick, was plain enough to pass just as that: a walking stick. “Ahem…” There was a clearing of a throat behind him. Marx turned and saw Ranko standing there, an amused look on her face. “And just where do you think you’re going with all those? I’ve never seen you taken anything more than just a bokken for sword training.” Marx smiled at his redheaded wife. “There’s a scratch rescue mission that I’m on.” “And you’re bringing enough weapons to fight a small clan war because…?” “Because I don’t know if the parties that snagged our missing away team are hostile or not. And I’m not bringing a phaser because they make too much noise, and give off a visible trace. This mission requires stealth and guile; a surgeon’s scalpel, not a bludgeon.” “Be careful, then. I don’t want to see you coming home in a body bag. And I don’t want to explain to Mother Lilliana that her son isn’t coming back.” Ranko leaned up and gave her husband a…passionate kiss good bye. “For luck. “Xian Pu is training the Marines in Amazonian Wu Shu. I’ll tell her where you are.” “Thanks. Just make sure that she doesn’t try to follow us down. You know how impetuous she can be.” Marx hugged his wife one last time, then headed down to the transporter room, the weapons on his person barely making a whisper. Ranko stood in the still open doorway, watching her husband leave. “May the Goddesses protect you, anata, from what ever you encounter,” she whispered quietly.

UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETSSTARFLEET COMMAND STARFLEET PERSONNEL COMMAND -=/\=- RECORD ACCESS -=/\=- CLASSIFICATION: CONFIDENTIAL/NOFORN SD 10310.15 Subject: Marx, William, John Race: Human Sex: Male Age: 25 Height: 2m Weight: 90kg Rank: Lieutenant Assignment: USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E Duty Position: Flight Controller/Astronavigator Next of Kin: Ranko Marx (Wife), Xian Pu Marx (Wife) CAREER HISTORY Lieutenant Marx was assigned to the Arcadia-D straight from the Academy, originally assigned to the Science Department as an Astronomer/Astrophysicist. He was transferred to the bridge, at his own request. One of his more notable achievements while assigned to the Science Department was the creation of a synthetic intelligence known as HAL. HAL is designed to ease user interaction with the main computer, and to provide automated diagnostic and power distribution routing. The Arcadia D and E are the only ships in the Fleet so equipped. HAL is often heard at times arguing with another synthetic intelligence resident on the Arcadia’s main computer, known as Harvey, usually regarding ship’s disposition and company. HAL has since been deactivated, due to potential psychiatric instability. Pending psychiatric evaluation and reprogramming, HAL may be brought back online. PERSONAL HISTORY Lieutenant Marx is the second son of late Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx and Seriana Ravensward, and has a twin sister, Virginia, currently on faculty at the Vulcan Science Academy. His mother still resides on Rhydin. His stepmother, Admiral Lilliana Gunji, retired as Commander, Temporal Disturbance Investigations, and is serving in the Diplomatic Corps. Her children, William’s step brother and sister, are Commanders Hunter and Hayden Dacotah, and are serving as Chief Engineer, Utopia Planitia Naval Yard, and Executive Officer, USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E, respectively. Two other elder half-siblings, Ensign (Dr.) Crystine Marx and Lt. Commander Christopher Marx, Jr., were killed in the line of duty. The causes of their deaths have been deemed Top Secret/SCI or higher, and are beyond the scope of this document. Lt. Marx, while growing up on Rhydin, trained in Musabetsu Kakutou Saotome-ryuu (Saotome School of Unrestricted Grappling/Anything Goes) martial arts, and is considered a 3rd Dan in the school, and holds master level certifications in several, more orthodox unarmed martial arts styles. During his time at Starfleet Academy, Rhydin, Lt. Marx was continually compared to his half-brother, who graduated in the top ten of his class, while William tended towards the bottom of the middle third of his class. His grades put him in loggerheads with his father, even though Admiral Marx retired from Starfleet as Rhydin Sector Commander on the day that his youngest son left for the Academy. There are, however, unsubstantiated reports that the eldest and youngest Marx were already fighting between themselves, regarding the younger's future training and spouse. While the younger Marx was undergoing rigorous martial arts training with the founder of the Musabetsu Kakutou Saotome-ryuu, Saotome Genma, the Admiral agreed to have his son marry Sensei Saotome's daughter, Ranko. The betrothal was duly recorded by the Nerima city offices, and is a matter of public record. As is the Lieutenant's second betrothal to the Amazon warrior Xian Pu. Just prior to the Lieutenant's entry into Starfleet Academy, Marx and the Saotomes were involved in a martial arts tournament in a village just outside of the boundaries of Antietam Ranch (see below). In an accident, Lt. Marx was given the Amazon Kiss of Marriage after defeating the village champion, Xian Pu. In an unfortunate turn of events for the young martial artist and Starfleet Cadet, the local authorities chose to follow Amazon laws and traditions, thereby recognizing the second betrothal. Lieutenant Marx was married to both his fiancées in a traditional Joketsuzoku ceremony while on leave, on 10309.15, and have since returned to the Arcadia. FAMILY HISTORY The late Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx was the first captain of the USS Antietam, NCC-1798-A, the lead vessel of the Antietam-class carrier/battleship. Marx commanded the Antietam until his first retirement as Rhydin Sector troubleshooter, holding the rank of Commodore, except for a stint as Commandant, Hostile Weather Survival School, Keflavik, Iceland. Marx was pulled out of retirement following the firing of the Rhydin Sector Commander, Fleet Admiral Hiro Nakajima, by Commander, Starfleet; promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral, and assigned as the new Sector Commander. The reasons for this occurrence are classified at a level higher than Top Secret/SCI, and are therefore beyond the scope of this document. During Marx's first retirement, the Admiral began purchasing the 25000 square kilometer Antietam Ranch, an area roughly half the size of Bosnia-Herzegovina. However, due to the intervention of a junior third-level functionary at the Rhydin Bureau or Land Management, several small, non-aligned villages and towns became part of the Ranch, making the Admiral not only one of the largest landowners on the planet, but also a national leader. To quell the possibility of revolt or riot in his new territories, in his later capacity of Sector Commander had the sector Starfleet Corps of Engineers introduce modern sanitation, power distribution and transportation network to the new nation. The Admiral also introduced a parliamentary system of government for the citizens of the Ranch to enact laws for their citizens, and to allow for the Prime Minister and to run the new nation while the Admiral was away. By default of Rhydin being a Federation member, the new nation entered the Federation, and the Prime Minister also acts as the Ranch's Ambassador to the sector council. Several veins of blue sapphire and diamonds were found within the territory of the Ranch, and environmentally friendly mining techniques were implemented. Several inconclusive battles were fought with the Joketsuzoku; a matriarchal tribe of warriors with ties to the Amazons of mythology had been transplanted from the hinterlands of China. Admiral Marx also tried political maneuvering and a peace treaty to peacefully have the tribe come into the boundaries of the Ranch. All attempts were rebuffed, until the Admiral's youngest son defeated the village champion and received the Kiss of Marriage. The Admiral accepted the validity of the native custom, and allowed multiple marriages as a valid marriage type. The Amazon nation, led by Xian Pu's great-grandmother, Kuh Lon, were welcomed into the borders of the Ranch. The Admiral's first wife, Captain Jennifer Rand, served as the dedicated communications officer for the USS Antietam, until her promotion to the rank of Captain and assignment to the USS Blackhawk. Due to the nature of both vessels missions, relations were strained severely enough to warrant separation and divorce. Captain Rand remained commander of the Blackhawk until its destruction under unusual circumstances. Those circumstances are classified, and beyond the scope of this document. Their first son, Lt. Commander Christopher Marx, Jr., served on the USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-D, from SD 9505.00 to 10005.15, in the capacities of assistant science officer, Security Department Executive Officer, under then-Commander William T. Moose, and Tactical Officer. Commander Marx also served in an unofficial capacity as the Arcadia's Special Operations Command operative, having undergone training at Starfleet's Special Operations School, Ft. Benning, GA, NorthAm, Sol III. During his time serving on the Arcadia, Commander Marx was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder regarding the death of his fraternal twin sister, Ens. Crystine Marx (see below). Various methods were used to treat the disorder, but was never successfully treated. He was killed in the line of duty after leaving the Arcadia. The circumstances of his death remain classified Top Secret/SCI due to the nature of the mission, and are beyond the scope of this document. Their daughter, Ensign (Dr.) Crystine Marx, served aboard the USS Antietam in the capacity of Medical Officer, from her graduation from Starfleet Medical Academy, with a degree in traditional internal and xenomedicine, until her death. The circumstances surrounding her death are classified at a level higher than Top Secret/SCI, and are therefore beyond the scope of this document. During his retirement, then-Commodore Marx met and subsequently married Seriana Ravensward. Two children, a second set of fraternal twins, resulted from the marriage--William John and Virginia. After his reactivation and subsequent promotion, Admiral Marx's relationship with his second wife became strained, resulting in an inevitable divorce. The Admiral received joint custody of the twins, until receiving full custody at the request of his ex-wife. Virginia graduated from the Vulcan Science Academy with degrees in Mathematics and Theoretical Mathematics, and is currently serving on the faculty of the esteemed institution. Upon the Admiral's death, due to natural causes, Antietam Ranch was divided into six equal parts—one portion going to each surviving child or their spouse. MEDICAL HISTORY Lt. Marx suffers from a genetically inherited allergy to the Retnax-series of ocular treatments, forcing the Lieutenant to wear eyeglasses. This allergy was inherited from his father, and has occurred in all three Marx males. There are no limitations to the Lieutenant's duty assignments as a result of the use of glasses. Psychological Profile Due to an incident while undergoing martial arts training on Rhydin, Cadet Marx exhibits a severe, almost pathological, fear of deep water. The incident, an attack by a predator native to Rhydin known as a "hundredtentacles", involved a young William Marx actually being eaten by the creature. As a result of the attack, Cadet Marx cannot be in water any deeper than 15 feet for any prolonged time. If he is in deeper water for a prolonged length, agitation and nervousness begin. If he has not been removed, catatonia will set in, as he withdraws himself to protect his very sanity. The catatonic state will last until some twenty to thirty minutes after removal from the deep water to shallow water or out entirely. I have tried multiple treatment methods, without successful results. The patient remained unaffected in water up to 15 feet in depth, but the moment he was placed in deeper water, agitation and nervousness set in. After prolonged testing, the patient entered a catatonic state, slowing down his metabolism and respiratory rate, throwing the monitors into panic mode. Group therapy, hypnotherapy and medication did nothing to prevent the patient from going into his catatonic state when placed in deep water. The only way that I found that did not cause the patient to enter a catatonic state was when his sense of honor was required. When I asked him about this, the patient advised me that his sensei always told him 'It is the duty of a martial artist to protect the weak.' It is my recommendation that the patient be waived from deep water training, and to be assigned where the possibilities of encountering deep water will be minimal, as he may present a risk to his shipmates if he were to enter such a situation, unless his sense of honor is required. Signed: /s/ S'Freud Staff Psychiatrist Starfleet Academy, Rhydin QUALIFICATIONS Lt Marx is a qualified pilot on atmospheric-only, trans-atmospheric, and exo-atmospheric craft and is a qualified helmsman on Galaxy and Sovereign-class starships. He is also qualified on all manner of internal combustion powered vehicles. Although he prefers not to use weapons, he is qualified on Type I and II phasers, and more traditional edged weapons.

Ranko’s Diary 5 September It’s been two weeks, and I still can’t believe I’m married. Of course, it would help if my husband was here, but that’s not the case. Will’s off in the woods playing Army like a little boy, I love him dearly, but he’s such a big kid. And I should know that since I’ve know him for most of his life. Okay, we’ve been training together for that amount of time; we saw each other socially while we were at Furinkan and at the Academy. We kept sparring, and, no thanks to that lazy panda of a father, training. Of course, before Will left for the Academy, he did add my cowife at that village tournament. My sweet, honorable, foolish husband. I don’t mind my sister-wife, but I’d really rather not have to share. Although, it did make for an…interesting honeymoon. Shampoo is, in a word, bubbly. There are times it seems like she’s on a permanent sugar high, but I’ve also seen her crash, and crash hard. Of course, there was also the few times she tried to kill me. Her way of thinking, influenced by her traditions, saw me as an obstacle to Will, and obstacles needed to be removed. Until Will’s father signed into law the legalization of multiple partner marriages. Of course it was done mainly for the three of us, but it was one thing that allowed closer ties with the Joketsuzoku. There are times when I wish Will and his father hadn’t fought as much as they did while the Admiral was alive. It seems all they did was antagonize each other. While Will was off training with Kuh Lon, Lil told Shampoo and myself all about our fiancé’s relationship with his father. Christopher was a highly decorated American Air Force and Starfleet officer, and Will just about adored and worshipped his father. I didn’t know about the former, but I should have suspected something about some of the photographs, not holos, but actual photos around the house. Even when Will was given over to my father’s tender mercies for training in Musabetsu Kakutou, he didn’t mind. He thought it would be something to win his father’s affections. But when Chris arbitrarily transferred Will to Furinkan that was when the fighting really began. From what Lil told us, it was almost every day that were getting into an argument over some little thing. But what was also straining the family was that Chris, Will’s older brother, had volunteered for a deep-cover mission and disappeared. I could see it plainly on Will’s face every day when we sparred, and it was eating him up. I tried to find an outlet for him, but Fate intervened on that first day of his at Furinkan. Fate in the form of the principal’s son, Tatewaki Kuno. Kuno started harassing me every day after I became more than just a tomboy with a martial artist’s training. Not to brag, but I definitely, and thankfully, take after Mom, and she’s still stunning. Pops? Well…the closest thing to the way he’s like is a giant panda—fat and lazy. Except when it comes to martial arts, then he’s energetic up to a point. Anyway, since I was sparring with Will on a regular basis, and even studying, I wasn’t inclined really to see anyone else. Kuno took it to mean that I wasn’t interested in guys. So that baka told all the guys in the school that to date me, they had to beat me. So the first day at Furinkan, Will watched me as I proceeded to beat the snot out of the Horde of Hentai. Then Kuno made his move, first towards me, then to Will. Well, Will let him have it. He was beautiful in the fight, all his moves graceful and conservative with his energy. I remember watching the deranged kendoist being embedded in the school wall. They kept it up every day for two straight years, even after Kuno graduated and was attending Nekomi Polytech. To be honest, and I never told Will this because of the consequences, my friend Nabiki’s younger sister Akane put the True Blunder up to the whole thing. I found this out after we graduated. I ran into Nabiki in Rhydin, and we chatted for several hours at a Viennese coffee house. During the course of our conversation, Nabiki brought it up, telling me that Akane was jealous of both my martial arts skills and of Will. Apparently Akane wanted to be both my sparring partner and my “partner”. Despite what I said about Shampoo making our honeymoon interesting, my taste doesn’t run that way. Akane was a petty, violent tomboy, who couldn’t cook and could barely fight—granted she rated in the top 100 of Nerima’s martial artists at a 99. I never told Will this because we’d been sparring together for years, and when you spar, you tend to hit the other person, so Will has no compunctions about hitting women in a tournament, duel or sparring, even though he’d probably still pull his punches. But if he challenged Akane, I doubt he would because of the living hell she put the two of us through. Will is the calmest, most understanding person I’ve ever met. But you get his dander up there’ll be Hell to pay. Will, I think, still loved his father, for all the hell that the Admiral put both his sons through. When Chris died, William was hurt by it. Outwardly, he showed no emotion, especially standing at the grave, but when the firing squad started the first of the volleys, tears came to his eyes. Only those by him noticed it: myself, Hayden, Lil, Ginny. He was also the last one to leave the gravesite. And the same thing happened when his brother Chris‘s body was recovered a few months later. Frankly, I’m surprised that he was able to handle the emotional trauma of losing two loved ones so quickly without breaking down. Our entry onto the ship was very quiet. I wasn’t expecting a brass band or a party, but maybe just our sister-in-law to meet us in the shuttle bay. Some junior petty officer met us, and told Will that he had to be downplanet as soon as possible for a staff exercise. Our husband led us to our quarters where he changed into a field uniform, gave us both a quick kiss and left. The same petty officer that greeted us had our baggage and gave us a brief overview of how to get around the ship. I’d been on the Antietam before, the summer before Will transferred to Furinkan, so I sort of knew how to get around the ship. As we looked around our new quarters, both Shampoo and I agreed that they needed a woman’s touch.

Marriage—That blessed awwaingment Personal Log, SD 10308.27 Married. I can’t believe that I’m married now. And not once, but twice. Does that make me a bigamist? Or has the Federation advanced beyond how my father had described Earth of the 20th Century. Mom was a great help to both myself and my brides. And I doubt that I’ve even the courage to go through and marry even just one of them, let alone both. In a way, it’s kind of funny, how I think of Mom as “Mom”. Sure, I remember my birth mother, but I also remember how problematic everything became when Dad settled down into a regular nine-to-five routine. Without the frontier war going on, he was bored. And that would cause friction in the family. Mom—Lil—would tell me stories of my father when she first met him, that he was quiet, but also a man who craved action. I was glad it wasn’t a bitter divorce, but I was also glad that Dad finally got back together with his first wife, although I still don’t know how she manages to look as young as she does in those photos in Dad’s office. Anyway, Mom was a great asset to have on my side, especially when dealing with Xian Pu’s customs. The Amazons respect a strong female presence when an outsider male is marrying into the tribe. And Mom has negotiated treaties with races from the Tholians to the Thri’Kreen. So handling the political side wasn’t hard, just trying; considering that the Amazon laws that rule their tribe go back 35 hundred years. And Kuh Lon is a bit of a stickler for formalities, going over every little detail. Shampoo, Ranko and I had to sit through every meeting up until two weeks ago. At that point, according to Amazon custom, the betrothed are to be kept secluded from each other. I swear, those two weeks were the hardest for me; even harder than being half a galaxy away. Marriage nerves and anticipation are definitely a dyspeptic combination. To the Amazons, no contact means just that—no contact. Since the Elders believe in the superiority of the female, the groom is usually confined to house arrest, only coming out under escort to exercise, or work. Given my particular status as a fairly decent martial artist, heir-apparent to a smallish nation and member of Starfleet, Kuh Lon either decided against placing me under house arrest, or Mom talked her out of it, I’m not sure. That was the first meeting after my seclusion from my brides. But she began training me in advanced martial arts and meditation techniques; techniques that would allow me to access my ki, or life force—something Genma should have started me on, but didn’t. Damn lazy, good for nothing panda. To say that Kuh Lon is a difficult taskmaster is like saying SGM Jackson is Heidi of the Alps. She had me all over the Ranch, running, leaping, meditating in unusual positions and situations, and fighting. And hitting me with that damned walking staff of hers. All trying to make me focus on using my ki, she put me through a training regimen that would have the Marines on the Arc sucking wind. And surprisingly enough, the night before my wedding, I was able to project a small bluish ball over the palm of my hand. Kuh Lon actually congratulated me. When I gave her a questioning look, she replied “When you’ve been around as long as I have, you start to give males the benefit of the doubt. But if you tell that to anyone, I’ll make you pay.” To which I called her an “old ghoul.” She promptly whacked me over the head with her staff. I wouldn’t be calling her an old ghoul again anytime soon. The morning of the wedding, Kuh Lon and I returned to the Ranch house. Everything looked festive. Japanese lanterns hung from the mast of Dad’s sailboat, streamers and bunting were hanging from almost every vertical surface. Even the weather was calm. Granted though Rhydin isn’t noted for its extremes in weather during the summer months, the Ranch is located far enough inland so that what few hurricanes that are spawned don’t reach it, and the terrain isn’t suitable to generate tornados. Mom hustled me in, and ordered me into the bathroom for a shower. Two weeks of being out in the woods, with only streams and waterfalls to bathe in doesn’t help one’s aroma. An hour in the shower had me feeling human again. I took my time to shave with running hot water and warm lather. The sound of a straight blade scraping against my face was wonderful. Mom had my formal mess dress uniform laid out, but it wasn’t typical Starfleet issue. The jacket was what Dad, and for that matter Mom, called an “Ike” jacket over a white shirt with black bowtie. The jacket was a short dark blue—almost black--waistcoat, without tails, and gold braid on the sleeves by the cuffs, my rank insignia within the braiding. The lapels of the jacket were what Mom called “Aviation Blue” to signify my position as helmsman and shuttle pilot. The pants had gold piping along the outer seam, and were a lighter dark blue. What few awards I have were on my breast, and Dad’s Air Force saber was strapped to my waist. Once dressed, and Mom was finished looking me over and fussing with my uniform, I went to the altar and waited. I guess there must have been some sort of discussion while I was secluded over the order of the brides. Ranko walked down first, wearing a white wedding kimono and headdress. Her fiery red hair framed her face in such a way that if there was nothing about the ceremony itself that I wouldn’t remember, I would still remember that. When she reached the altar and placed herself to the left that was when Xian Pu started down the aisle. She still had her lavender hair in her typical odangos, flowing down to her knees. For as long as I’ve…known her, I’ve never once heard her complain about her hair. For the Amazons, long hair is a sign of womanhood, and a role in the village. And, apparently so is wearing clothing that conceals everything, yet hints at nothing. Her cheongsam looked as though it was painted on. I smiled to myself, as Xian Pu took her place on my right. The ceremony itself was a very simple affair. One of the Elders officiated, wishing the blessings of Artemis on us and Athena to look over us, and what surprised me, especially me, as I go onward to glorious strife. While the blessings are being said, two other elders are binding our hands in each others, to form the union that is unbreakable, save by death, under the eyes of the patron goddesses of the Amazons. After the ceremony, the usual reception stuff—dinner, dancing, but no tossing of the bouquet or garters—then we left for our honeymoon, which, suffice to say, I won’t bore you with. Of course, there was also the request for larger quarters on the family deck, preferably one with an extra large bed ((Wink, Wink. Nudge, Nudge. Say no more.)) It was my wives decision to accompany me back to the Arcadia, and I can’t fault them for it. I hope that they’ll be able to handle being in space, and I hope the Arcadia can handle having them on board.

Personal Log, SD 10307.01 I feel sorry for Hayden. She's stuck in a less than ideal assignment-- acting as the Federation's mediator between Lilliput and Brobdingnag. Neither side likes each other; both sides have differing tastes for both music, food, or decor. For Hayden, it's truly a miserable assignment. The Lilliputians prefer something akin to Classical, the Brobdingnagians a little more modern. The Lilliputians are confirmed Vegans, the Brobdingnagians are diehard carnivores. This summit is going to be a test of nerves; specifically Sis's. I hope Sickbay has plenty of anti-psychotics for her. They might keep her on an even keel during the negotiations. And she's a lot like Dad in her temperment. The littlest things would set Dad off and, were it not for the moderating influence of Mom, his diplomatic negotiations would have blown up in his face and the Federation would be at war. ::chuckle:: Whoever thought to move Dad into the troubleshooter slot for the Rhydin Sector must have had an ironic sense of humor. Dad just loved mixing it up with the enemy and his ship, the Antietam. I barely remember an incident at Clymestra when he exchanged broadsides with the enemy's flagship--which wasn't much smaller than the Antietam-- before the final blow with the Type XII phaser cannon under the saucer. I think I was four or five at the time, which means it was just before I started training with Genma. This time, I hope Hayden will take those diplomacy lessons from Mom to heart. It's funny being the child of Flag-rank officers. Mom and Dad would have an argument every so often, and it would turn into one of them trying to pull rank on the other. And then Mom would get annoyed and end the conversation with "If you're going to be like that, Christopher , then you are going to sleep on the couch. And don't come crawling to my office because of some little temporal disturbance. Your command will get the bare minimum of support, as required by regulation." God, I still get chills when I remember that. Of course, after that first argument I overheard, the minute I heard them start fighting, I'd try to get out of the house and head over to Ranko's on horseback, or head out to the hangar and try to get some more lessons from one of the mechanics, or get out on the lake on a boat; but some times I wouldn't be as lucky as others, and have to suffer. Then again, as I remember it, I was usually the subject of the argument and was unable to make my escape any way. The one incident that sticks out is when Mom and Dad got into it over my, um...betrothal to Xian Pu. Dad wanted to honor it for political reasons, Mom wanted to nullify it since Dad had already engaged me to Ranko. After hearing them fight for the better part of two hours, I decided to step in and end it by telling both of them that "it was my own damn fault to begin with, because I intercepted the kiss that was meant for Ranko. So let me deal with the damed consequences." I stormed out of the house, got on Khelban, and headed into the woods. That really put my knickers into a twist. And of course, I'm living with those consequences now. I have two fiancees that are quite willing to marry me, and become sister-wives, especially since they both love me. And if Hayden doesn't screw up, I'll be able to live long enough to reach the wedding. Surviving the honeymoon...That's a different story. ((AN: All references to "Mom" refer to Lilliana Gunji, Hayden's mother and Will's step-mother. She's really the only mother Will's had since his parents divorced.))

Helmsman's Log, Stardate 30106.31 Lt Marx Recording. The Arcadia is currently holding station within the Lipu starsystem on a diplomatic mission. Because of the sensitive nature of this mission, the Arcadia has to hold a distance between the first planet, Lilliput, and the 12th, Brobdingnag. The Ambassador from Lilliput is only 6" tall, and could have the possiblity of being stepped on, whereas the reports from our consul on Brodingnag indicate that some of the inhabitants there reach up to 60' or greater. Both Ambassadors have the ability to alter their height, but from what I've seen, their height changing abilities seem to stem on their internal power reserves, or ki. Of course, that would mean that logically, that His Excellency, the Ambassador from Brobdingnag, would be able to hold a human-sized height longer than His Excellency, the Ambassador from Lilliput, since their ki reserves are diiferent. However, a sensei once explained to me that "Size matters not." And then there is Khu Lon. The Matriarch of the Amazons on Rhydin would be considered a midget, but her ki reserves where such that she was able to project it. Which means that His Excellency, the Lilliputian Ambassador, may not be trained in manipulating his internal powers. The Arcadia is holding station in the orbit of the sixth planet of the Lipu system. The ship's orbit is essentially a corkscrew, where we have to match the orbital velocity of Lilliput and slow to match the orbital velocity of Brobdingnag. I have yet to hear from the Engineering staff complaining about stress the orbit is placing on the impulse engines. Historical Briefing The Lipu system has only three habitable planets in the system, Lilliput, Brobdingnag, and Laputa; the first, 12th and 6th planets, respectively. Lilliput and Brobdingnag are the only inhabited planets, both discovered that Laputa is inhabitable and has significant strategic resources, whereas the inhabited planets have minimal strategic resources. The discovery of Laputa by both planets has caused significant friction, and as such resulted in small scale skirmishes between the two planets. These skirmishes have exhausted planetary resources on both planets, and which ever planet successfully colonizes and develops Laputa, will be the winner in this interplanetary war. The Federation was requested by both sides to arbitrate, as the war has caused grievious harm to both planets.

NERIMA Three blocks north of Furinkan HS The Admiral’s runabout touched down in an empty lot. The personnel hatch opened and William stepped out, school bag in hand. He nodded to his father and the pilot and the runabout departed. Marx walked over towards the Saotome residence and looked around. The dojo sign was still there, as was another sign that read, “To challenge owner to savage combat, use rear entrance.” He opened the gate, entered, and walked towards the sounds of Ranko and her father sparring. There was a tap at his shoulder. Marx spun around. Standing there was Nodoka, katana barely out of the elaborately lacquered wooden sheath. “Ah, Marx-san,” She said in Japanese-accented English. She slid the katana back into its sheath. “Ohayo. What can I do for you?” “Ah, ohayo gozaimasu, Saotome-domo…My father transferred me into Furinkan, and I wanted to walk to school with Ranko this morning.” “Then please, call me Auntie.” “O-of course, Auntie Saotome.” “We’ll see if she’s done sparring with her father yet. Would you follow me?” Without waiting for an answer, Nodoka headed for the training yard. Marx followed. As they rounded the corner of the house, they could see the clouds of dust that the two martial artists were kicking up. “Ranko,” her mother called, “Marx-san is here. He wants to walk to school with you.” Ranko let her defenses down, and her father took advantage of it by kicking her into the koi pond. “Never let your guard down.” Ranko surfaced and shook out her red hair. “Why did you do that for, oyaji?” “Because you let you guard down, so I took…Oof!” Genma never saw Marx give his sensei a flying kick to the back of the head. The overweight martial artist went down like a sack of bricks. “I believe you were saying something about letting your guard down, sensei.” Marx said smiling to the prone Genma, as he held his hand out to help Ranko out of the pond. He averted his eyes when he saw her white gi clinging to, and lost its opaqueness in, places it normally shouldn’t. “Thanks Bill-kun. Let me go change real quick, and we’ll leave for school.” Ranko said, as she trotted into the house. Within five minutes, Ranko was back, dressed in her normal Chinese-style clothes. “Ready Bill?” He nodded, and they left the Saotome compound, headed for Furinkan. “How come you’re going to Furinkan now? Weren’t you in an Academy prep school?” “My father transferred me. He was saying something about change being a good thing, and we’d get more time to spar.” Ranko looked at Marx and grinned. “If you want sparring, Bill-kun, then you’ll get it.” “How so?” “Well, there’s this upperclassman who thinks he’s Kami’s gift to martial arts. He laid down a challenge, that anyone who can defeat me will date me. He also thinks that the day he defeats me, I’ll date him. “I’ve dusted him everyday since he issued that stupid challenge.” They approached the gates of the high school. There were about forty or so boys standing around. “Stay back, Bill. This’ll get messy.” “Ranko Saotome, I love you!” WHAM! “Ranko, please go out with me!” BAM! “Ranko!” SLAP! “I love…” CLONG! “This is for you!” SMASH! Marx leaned against the outer wall taking in the spectacle before him. Ranko was like a cheetah on the attack, dodging, weaving, and countering through the would-be suitors. There were few opportunities for the boys to attack her, before they wound up on an ever-growing pile of wounded and bruised combatants. His sparring partner was barely breathing heavy, when she looked at the pile of forty-odd wannabe boyfriends. “Truly a boorish lot, these cretins who dare to win thy hand, my pig-tailed goddess.” “Kuno,” Ranko said, “I don’t have time for this. The bell’s going to ring any moment.” Ranko motioned for Marx to follow as she headed towards the school. But a wooden bokken suddenly blocked her path. “Wouldst thou not spar with me, my love? Must I once again prove my worth to you? Should we not show all the peasants that only I am the truly worthy one to receive thy favors? Very well, if you can defeat me, I will allow you to date with me.” Marx walked over to Ranko. “My, you’re popular today. Who’s the blowhard?” There was a bokken pointed at Marx’s chest. “You there, you are being quite familiar with my pigtailed goddess.” Marx was about to reply, but Kuno didn’t give him a chance. “Who are you, boor? Ah! But it is customary to give one’s own name first! Fine then! Mine I shall give! “My name is Upperclassmen Tatewaki Kuno, Junior, Group E; captain of the Kendo Club, undefeated new star of the high school fencing world. But my peers call me…The Blue Thunder of Furinkan High.” There was a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder in the background. Students looking out the windows and standing around were looking at Marx in amazement. “Ooo! Someone new is taking on Kuno.” “He must have a death wish.” “Blue Thunder? That’s a new one.” “Yeah, wasn’t he calling himself the Shooting Star last week?” Marx assumed his stance. “I am William Marx, an heir to the Antietam Ranch, and a student of the Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling. And I accept your challenge.” Ranko looked at her friend, as he tossed his bag at her, with an incredulous look on her face. She shook her head. “Bill,” she muttered, “he’s going to mop the floor with you.” “Have at thee, knave,” Kuno shouted as he charged Marx. Marx jumped back as the bokken just barely missed his chest. The sapling that was next to Marx took the hit, and was severed in two. “Impressive,” Marx said, as he dodged another blow. He ducked past Kuno’s defenses and gave four quick rabbit punches to Kuno’s stomach. The wannabe samurai staggered back after the last hit. “What be this? I, Tatewaki Kuno have been struck?” Kuno paused and looked at Marx. “A practitioner of black magic, no doubt, who not only managed to hit me, but has also ensorcelled my pigtailed goddess. I must smite thee with the vengeance of Heaven. That is the duty of a noble…urk” As Kuno was pontificating; Marx hit him with a series of quick blows that knocked the wind out of his sails. “Blowhard,” Marx muttered. Kuno recovered and charged the young martial artist, bokken swinging. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!” Marx kept backpedaling as Kuno tried to hit him with the bokken. With a flip over Kuno, Marx landed and tripped up the delusional kendoist, sending him flying. “Shall we go inside,” Marx asked of Ranko as the bell rang. “Bill, look out!” She called as Kuno charged. With an air of casualness, Marx elbowed Kuno in the gut, brought his fist up quickly; smashing Kuno’s nose then brought it down into a very…tender area of male anatomy. Kuno sank to his knees, clutching himself, tears pouring down his face. “Marx,” he gasped, “I fight on.” He then promptly keeled over, and passed out. Marx looked at the kendoist lying on the ground. “Don’t try to attack me from behind. And that last hit’s for annoying my friend.” * * * Up in one of the classrooms, the teacher was introducing a new student to the class. “Class, we have a new student transferring in from Rhydin High School, William Marx. However, that does not excuse you from being late with Ms. Saotome. “Stand in the hall.” Marx nodded, and joined his sparring partner out in the hall, holding two buckets of dirty mop water. “So what’s with Kuno?” He asked. “He’s the one that made that stupid challenge that if anyone wanted to date me, they had to defeat me in combat. I always defeat him when he tries to attack. But I think he holds a lot back when he fights me, because I’m a girl.” “Some martial artists do when they fight a woman. Unless they’ve been training with them for some time.” Ranko smiled at that. “Besides, I really think Kuno is a bit of a loony any way. Anyone who thinks that they’re the vengeance of Heaven really needs to have a nice long vacation in a padded 8x8 cell.” “Bill, can I ask you a question?” Her partner in crime nodded. “Do you know anything about what our fathers are doing?” Marx shook his head. “Not a clue. All I know is that two days ago, my father transferred me here, and told me about it yesterday. I was not happy about it.” “That’s not the half of it, Bill. I overheard my father talking to your father the other night. It was purely by accident that I did. But it sounded like they were discussing potential marriage plans. And I know I’m an only child, so there’s a better than ninety percent chance that I’m one half of it.” “And Chris is already married. Ginny is such a bookworm, that I wouldn’t be surprised if she wound up marrying a Vulcan. But I doubt she’d be the one marrying you. Which means…” Marx dropped the buckets he was holding and looked at his sparring partner. “We’re engaged. I’m going to kill him.” He slid his glasses up on to his head, and began rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m so going to kill my old man for his meddling.” The sliding panels behind them slid open. “You’re engaged!” The class exclaimed. There was thudding coming from down the hall. “Marx, you foul daemon. I will never allow you to enslave my pigtailed goddess!” Kuno shouted, dressed in his traditional hakama, bokken on his back and a pair of buckets in his hands. He threw one, then the other bucket at Marx. “Never, never shall I condone your engagement to my pigtailed goddess!” Kuno drew his bokken and charged Marx. Marx ducked the first swing. “Hey Kuno! This is no place for a fight. If you want, follow me!” Marx ran towards one of the windows, leapt over the ledge and out the window. “Agreed,” was the first reasonable thing that Kuno said, as he leapt out the window. “BILL,” Ranko called, as she saw her erstwhile fiancé jump out the window. “We’re on the third floor! And there’s a pool below you!” Marx looked down, as he fell through the air. “Great, now she tells me,” he muttered, as he hit the water with a splash. He began swimming away from where he entered, heading for the closest wall of the pool. Kuno hit the water nearest the wall that Marx was swimming for. As the young martial artist surfaced for air, the deranged kendoist grabbed him. “Marx,” he said, “I fight…” Marx, in the midst of a sudden flashback to his being attacked by the wee beastie in that lake up on the High Horn, grabbed the samurai wannabe by his hakama, and slammed him onto the concrete walkway around the pool. Marx climbed out, water pouring out of his school uniform. He removed his slippers and poured water out from there as well. “Never grab me like that,” he said the prostrate and unconscious upperclassman. Ranko came running up. “You all right, Bill-kun?” Young Marx shook his head, sending water everywhere. “I’m fine.” He looked at Kuno. “Is that baka going to do this every day now?” Ranko looked at her inadvertent fiancé and nodded. “He’ll never learn. Nor will he give up, Bill. Remember when I told you about sparring opportunities here?” Marx nodded. “You’ve just made him your number one enemy.” Marx rolled his eyes. “Great. Just great.” Ranko smiled at her friend, now fiancé. “It’s alright, Bill. The entire family is nuts. His sister is the undisputed high school Rhythmic Gymnastics champion, but that’s because she attacks her opponents the night before, forcing a forfeit.” Marx shook his head as they entered the school building. “Pop,” he muttered, “what have you gotten me in?” Ranko chuckled. “Welcome to Furinkan, Bill-kun.” ----- Author's Notes on Japanese used Baka- fool, idiot, moron. Obviously not a nice term. Bokken- A training sword shaped like a katana, used for practicing forms. Ohayo- Good Morning. Gozaimasu- strengthens, and in this case, formalizes the greeting. Oyaji- Old Man. -domo- Honorific suffix for someone of higher status to whom the speaker is paying respect to. -kun- Honorific suffix for someone whom the speaker is familiar with -san- Default honorific suffix.

ANTIETAM RANCH 6 years later “William, my study. Now.” The Admiral’s voice called through the intercom. The now 15-year-old Marx looked askance at the speaker. “Geez, what did I do now? I haven’t bugged Ginny since I started my martial arts training,” he mused as he left the horse barn and walked towards the house, “and that was nine years ago.” Some of the ranch hands looked at the younger Marx doing his gallows walk, and began whistling Chopin’s Funeral March. He walked up the wooden steps of the wraparound porch, down the corridor, past the photos of his father and stepmother, his grandparents that he never had the chance to meet; to a door flanked by four portraits facing each other. On one wall were Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, and Lord Nelson. On the opposite wall hung George Patton and William Halsey. Very unnerving to have these gods of the military pantheon staring down on you, but the Admiral did it to as a psychological attack, if he had to “chat” with a junior officer; it put them off balance. Marx’s steps rang against the lacquered hardwood floor as he approached The Door. “As Chris is fond of saying, ‘Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us.’” He knocked on the door. “It’s William,” he announced. “Enter,” his father’s voice ordered tersely. Marx entered his father’s study. The room, covered with hardwood paneling, was a refuge for his father. One wall was an entire bookcase, filled with texts ranging from a rare first edition of Sun Tzu’s Art of War to history and philosophy texts to tactics manuals and regulations. On one of the bookshelves were three models—the UNSS Bounty, the USS Antietam, NCC-1798, and the USS Antietam, NCC-1798-A—the ships that the Admiral commanded. On the wall opposite the bookshelves hung a pair of crossed sabres—one Air Force, the other Starfleet. There was also the overwhelming smell of pipe smoke, even with the windows open. The wall opposite the door was all transparent aluminum and overlooked the lake. The massive mahogany desk was mostly bare, except for a standard Starfleet desk terminal, a blotter with pen and pencil holders, a crystal ashtray, and a model of an American Air Force F-15E Strike Eagle. The Admiral’s chair was turned, facing the windows, the only indicator that the Admiral was sitting there was the streamer of pipe smoke. Marx stopped two paces from his father’s desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” “Yes, I did,” the Admiral said, as he swung the chair back around. “I’ve been thinking about your training. I want you to attend Furinkan, William. This will allow you to spar more with Ranko and her father.” He set his pipe into the ashtray, letting the streamer of smoke rise between father and son. “But Dad, I’m already settled in at Rhydin High with their Academy Prep program. Do you really have to pull me out now?” “Yes I do,” his father looked at William from across the desk. “I will brook no further argument. I had you enrolled this morning, so you will report to classes there in the morning.” The younger Marx looked at the floor. “Yes, Father,” he said, with all the emotion of someone just told they have 2 weeks to live. His father sensed his apathy. “William, I know its difficult changing schools mid-semester, but think of it as a learning experience for when you decide if you want to join Starfleet. We don’t always remain on the same ship, or with the same crew. Change in a military setting is inevitable.” He tried to sweeten the deal. “Besides, you’ll be in the same class as Ranko. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you and she might become something other than sparing partners.” William glared at his father. “I do not need you butting into my private life, Father. Ranko and I are friends, nothing more.” With that, William stormed out of the Admiral’s study, and slammed the door behind him. The Admiral shook his head, and turned back to face the lake. The door to the study opened again, and closed. The Admiral didn’t need to be psychic or have enhanced senses to know who entered his inner sanctum. “Weren’t you a little hard on our son?” “I don’t think so, Lil,” the elder Marx replied. “I’m trying to do this for his own good.” Lil sat down on the desk, looking at her husband. “William has a lot of patience; some of it inborn, some of it coming from his martial arts training. But if you aren’t careful, you’re going to alienate your youngest son the way that you did to your eldest. Do you really want that to happen?” Marx looked at his wife, as he scrubbed his fingers through his short, steel gray hair. “Of course you do realize that you are right.” Lil gave him a look of smug satisfaction. “But, I’m trying to help William become a better person. “Besides, Saotome and I pledged to marry our children and unite the families. And I want our youngest son to get closer to our future daughter-in-law.” “You did what?” Lil asked, a less than amused look on her face. “You engaged our youngest child to marry Ranko? What in God’s name were you thinking, Christopher? When the hell were you planning to share this with me?" Lil's voice dripped with sarcasm, "The morning of the wedding?" Lil remained perched on the edge of the desk, her posture not giving any hint to the waves of anger surging from her. The Admiral looked at his wife. She was using his Christian name; that could only mean she was pissed, even though she wasn’t showing it. The last time he had seen her this pissed was back at Nellis, during the initial phases of the Bounty mission. “I was going to inform you tonight, after dinner. I had thought that William would have been a little more receptive to changing schools. Between his chores, the commute, and his training, William has little time for his studies. By going to Furinkan, William will be able to devote more energy to his schoolwork, as well as his martial arts training.” “That’s bull, Christopher, and you know it. Nine years ago, you went and signed our son up for martial arts training, and that I respect; but an instructor having only one student is not a glowing endorsement of his skills as a teacher. However, now you're telling me that you not only simply signed him up for training, you have arranged our son's marriage? My God, Christopher, he’s only 15 years old! He’s too damn young to start thinking about a wife, let alone starting a family. “And as for the commute, he commutes with you, for Pete’s sake. It takes ten minutes for you to fly to Rhydin. So don’t tell me about his commute to school. And as for his chores, he’s turned them into a training exercise and has been finishing them faster than usual. So don’t give me that as an excuse. “Does William even know?” Marx shook his head. “I thought so. Getting your son engaged, without even telling him? Jesus, I always knew you to be an honorable man, but this is really dishonorable.” “Damnit, Lil, he’s my goddamned son. I will decide what’s right for him.” The Admiral said, slamming his fist into the desk. “That is my right as his father.” There was almost an unstated and his commanding officer at the end of his statement, as if the elder Marx wanted his son to go to the Academy, graduate, and be posted to one of the ships assigned to the Rhydin sector. “If you truly believe that, Christopher, then you will lose William as you almost lost Chris, and as you lost Crystine.” Lil stood, and started to head towards the door. She stopped and looked at her husband. “What’s been done is done, and cannot be undone,” she said, solemnly. “Not even the Guardian of Time can reverse what you did, without changing the future.” She walked out of her husband’s office, gently closing the door behind her. That act alone threatened to drive an irreparable wedge in the Admiral’s domestic tranquility. ((Written with a grateful assist by the XO's Mundane back when we were doing this on AOL))

HIGH HORN Northwest of Lake Riyadh Three Years later “Marx!” Genma bellowed, “You need to concentrate more. Ranko can run through this exercise in her sleep!” “I’m trying to old man,” he muttered. Ranko gave her sparring partner a sympathetic look. Marx smiled at his friend, which was not an easy thing to when hanging from a one-inch diameter piece of rope stretched over a decent sized pool of water. There was a small stream running into and out of the pool. All in all, it looked like a calming picture. “Do or do not,” Ranko said, just loud enough for William to hear. “There is no try.” Marx nodded his head, and swung back on to the top of the rope. He landed on his feet, and wavered as though he was going to fall. He caught his balance, and stayed up. He breathed a sigh if relief. “Good. Good, my young student.” Genma said from the sidelines. “Now, finish crossing to the other side.” Marx put his arms out to steady himself. “No! Arms in. Focus on staying upright.” Marx shook his head and started across the cable. “Slower,” Genma shouted. “A walking pace, not at a run. Running is for wimps. Remember, you are a martial artist, Marx, and our way is fraught with peril. “Ranko can do this blindfolded, in her sleep.” “Like I want to do that, oyaji,” Ranko growled. “Show some respect to your elders, girl. You whine like a woman.” “Well, maybe that’s because I am a girl, oyaji,” Ranko countered. “Bah, that means nothing,” Genma sniped. “Why you…” The nine year old Ranko launched herself at her father. Unfortunately, the older and more skilled Genma managed to defeat his daughter, with a roundhouse kick, that sent her into a rock outcropping. “You need to be calm, daughter. Your emotions will be your undoing.” Genma stood over Ranko. “No dinner for you tonight. That is your punishment. “Marx, we’re setting up camp. Get off of there.” “Yes, Sensei.” Marx said, as he jumped off the other side of the rope. That night Ranko sat by the fire, watching the crackling flames. Marx saw her sitting on a log, trying not to look hungry. Genma had long since gorged himself to a coma, and was snoring loudly enough to keep the critters away. “Hey, what’s up?” Marx asked as he walked up on her. “Not much.” Ranko looked at her sparring partner, and smiled. “So what brings you out here?” “I was looking for you. The punishment your father gave you just doesn’t seem fair.” “Yeah, I know. Its just that oyaji has some pretty radical ideas for training and discipline that he learned from his master.” “I can see that,” Marx said, a bit of smile on his face. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a bit of pepperoni and some cheese. “I know it’s not much, but my pop always taught me to be prepared.” He offered it to his sparring partner. “I can’t take it,” she said. “Besides what emergency food will you have?” Her stomach growled, belying her denial. “I’ve got plenty, take it.” Ranko took the food that her sparring partner offered freely, and within a few moments finished it off. “How come you’re still up,” Marx asked. “I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why, but something doesn’t feel right.” Marx smiled at her. “Let me go get our bedrolls. You can sleep out here with your ‘big brother’.” “Thanks, Bill-chan.” The next morning found Marx back on the rope. This time, he was focused, and maintained his balance as he crossed over the pool several times. “Excellent, Marx-san. Your balance has improved dramatically.” Genma said. “Now, let’s see how you fight.” He jumped on to the narrow line. It quivered, then snapped and went flying from its anchor point. Genma jumped back and landed on the shore of the pool. Marx tried to clear the lip of the pool, but didn’t make it. With a splash, he landed in the water. Treading water, he took stock of his situation, and began swimming towards the shore. Ranko watched in horror as numerous tentacles enveloped her friend and start to drag him beneath the surface of the water. She wanted to help, but was held back by her father. “There is no hope for him, Ranko.” Marx’s screams of terror tore into Ranko’s soul, as the sounds of splashing filled the woods. She looked over at the pool with tear-filled eyes, as she watched Marx struggle against this freshwater kraken. Her father was no help, reminding her that the way of a martial artist was fraught with peril. Her friend, someone who actually cared for her, and was fun to be with, might have been killed, because of her father’s stupid ideas on training. Balance training is one thing, but over a pool that hasn’t been thoroughly investigated in the wilderness that is Antietam Ranch is something completely different. Slowly, the screams and splashing died down and pool returned to its placid surface. Ranko turned and headed back towards the camp, missing the sudden eruption in the pool, like a depth charge going off, tears running down her cheeks. A sodden, half-drowned Marx surfaced and swam towards shore. He dragged himself out of the water and staggered back to the camp. Ranko felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and was shocked to see Marx standing there. “Bill?” She asked, not sure whether or not she had seen a ghost. The soaked and battered martial arts student nodded. “What happened?” Marx sat down wearily on a stump, water pouring out of his clothes. He was shivering slightly, but it wasn’t because he was cold. Ranko went over to her bag and got a wool blanket out. She walked back and draped it over Marx. “When the rope snapped, I hit the water, and started swimming for shore. That was when I felt…something brush against me.” Marx shuddered again. “Tentacles. It felt like there were hundreds of tentacles enveloping me. I fought to regain my freedom, but for every one tentacle freed, another one was on me. “I was being pulled towards the creature’s mouth, when I focused everything into one last attack, and managed to free myself and swim out of its grasp.” “Hey Bill, you’ll be ok. I’ll make sure oyaji doesn’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” Ranko put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. Genma looked over and smirked. Things were progressing between the two.

A Perspective of Time and Relationships Antietam Ranch Rhydin IV Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx walked out of his house, his youngest son bounding past him. When he was “retired” from Starfleet, and settled down with his third wife, most of his savings went towards the purchase of 1200 square kilometers of prime Rhydin wilderness. Through shrewd investments and deals, not to mention the discovery of a sapphire mine in the mountains overlooking Lake Riyadh; which Marx named after his assignment, the Miranda-class frigate USS Riyadh, Marx added to his territorial wealth, eventually purchasing roughly an additional 26000 square kilometers of woodland. As private property, the Rhydin Bureau of Land Management declared Antietam Ranch off limits to outside commercial use, except with owner’s consent. Marx, being the typical outdoorsy type, nixed any idea of developing his property, other than the sapphire and diamond mines. Now there was one small problem that a 3rd level flunky at the BLM informed Marx of, almost in a manner of passing, the day that he bought up more wilderness. Several small, unaligned villages were a part of his Ranch now, and oh they were his problem now. That day Marx left the main offices in Rhydin fuming mad. That was, however, past. As the equivalent of a ruler of a small nation on Rhydin, he dictated policy; by default his word was law. But he never abused that authority, and used his influence within Rhydin Sector Command to improve the villages; modern sewage recycling, improvements in communications and medical treatment, and modern farming techniques. So what if Marx was bending the Prime Directive, but since Rhydin was a Federation member, the Prime Directive doesn’t apply. Besides, it’s not like he gave the village militias phasers and photon mortars. At best, they were equipped similarly to the US Army, circa 1898, at worst, the Hundred Years’ War. And all elders of all the villages had signed an alliance to maintain the peace. “So where’re we going, Dad?” Asked the youngest Marx, as he climbed into the passenger seat of the armored Humvee. “I’m going to Nerima. There is some business I need to attend to.” The elder Marx said, distinctly stressing the “I”. “You are staying here and doing your homework, young man.” “But Dad,” Will pleaded, “I did it all already. And there’s nothing to do; I’m bored.” “Why not play with your sister?” “She’s got her nose buried in some science book. Besides, she’s no fun to play with anymore. Ginny is always reading or doing something. And it’s too cold to go swimming in the lake, and Lil doesn’t want me riding yet. She thinks I’m too little.” Marx looked at his son. The little bugger was right. Ginny was either reading some science book or looking at the some new scientific discovery on the terminal. At six, his youngest daughter was already a budding scientist. And Lil was possibly right, William and Ginny were both too small to be riding, but Volo was a placid horse, unlike Azoun or Khelben—both with bloodlines going back to the stables of the Plantagenents. “Alright, get it. But keep your nose clean, or there’ll be trouble when we get back home.” “I will Dad.” Will settled into the passenger seat. His father climbed in and started the 6.5 liter turbodiesel engine of the armored truck with a roar and a cloud of sooty exhaust. He slipped the transmission into gear and drove out of the barn that was the car garage and headed down the driveway to the main road. Pausing momentarily, the elder Marx pulled on to the highway and accelerated towards Nerima. Five towns were in the immediate vicinity of the lake. On the western shore were Suzail and Arabel. Arabel was up in the mountains, and the site of the sapphire mines. On the eastern shore were Nerima, Waterdeep, and Shadowdale. The main compound occupied a decent amount of the southern shore, primarily because of the 5000 foot runway. Nerima, only a thirty minute horseback ride through the woods from the compound, was an hour drive. This had been partially done to limit the environmental impact, but also to allow for a scenic drive, with a number of overlooks, showing the lake on one side of the mountains, and Rhydin City’s skyline on the other. Normally on a visit to the village, Marx would ride. But since he had to visit the five lakeside villages, it made sense to drive. The drive itself was uneventful, except that Marx had to ford one of the streams that crossed the highway. The Admiral put that in the back of his mind to have the Corps of Engineers come out and replace the bridge that apparently washed away with the recent rains. Marx pulled up to the walled city, and was waved through by the guards. They’d seen his vehicles often enough that he didn’t need more than a cursory glance in his direction. That could be troublesome at some point, but Marx could correct deficiency in the future. William looked out the bulletproof glass of the windows. It was his first visit to Nerima, so he was really interested in what was going around. The village looked like a typical Japanese village, just that it had a large preponderance of martial artists and its modern high school. The residents were making their way through their daily routine, and pretty much ignored the Humvee as the elder Marx tried to make his way to the center of town, hitting the horn every so often, to try to clear a path. Some of the locals tried to move out of the way of the 8’-wide truck, but most ignored the horn of the armored vehicle, which, of course, led to the Admiral turning the air blue in the truck. Marx eventually made his way to the center of town, where the village hall was. Standing outside were the village elders and a number of local martial artists, all waiting for the Admiral. Marx got out of the vehicle. The elders bowed, and Marx replied with his own bow. They went into the building, leaving the younger Marx sitting in the Humvee. After about a half an hour of crawling through the armored truck, William got bored and climbed out. Sitting on a bench outside the village meeting hall was a young Japanese girl dressing in kung-fu pants, Chinese-style silk shirt and slippers; her red hair pulled back into a ponytail. He walked over to her. “Hi,” he said. “Who are you?” “I’m Ranko Saotome. My pops says that I’m going to be the best martial artist ever. Who are you?” “I’m William Marx. And my pop’s, what did he say he was? Oh yeah! The local lord.” “Yeah, so what. My pop can beat up your pop.” “No he can’t.” “Yes he can.” “No he can’t.” “Fine, if you don’t think my pop can beat up your pop, then I know I can beat you up.” Ranko said, a smug look on her face. “No, you can’t,” William countered, pulling the hilt to his toy lightsabre out. He hit the activation button, and it just fizzled. Shaking it, he muttered, “I knew I should have put new batteries in.” Ranko held her hand out. “Shake?” Gullibly, Marx took her hand…and was thrown four feet behind her. “Hah! Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling Special Attack—Judo Handshake. That was the first move that Pops showed me.” Marx stood and dusted himself off. “Hey, no fair! I wasn’t ready.” Ranko gave her opponent a sweet smile. “Sorry, my fault. Ready?” She bowed, and Marx charged her. Ranko jumped to the side and stuck her foot out. Marx, running full bore, hit her foot and tripped, sliding face first in the dirt. Inside the village meeting hall, the elder Marx was listening to the usual gripes and complaints. Even as a benevolent ruler, there were complaints against Marx. Until Marx had bought up the land from the government, these villages had been independent communities, beholden to no overlord. Each village council had been democratically elected, although sometimes prowess in arms would lead to a slot on the council. But that depended on the village. It was taking time for these formally independent villages, in all about twenty, to realize that they were now part of a bigger whole—a fiefdom as it were, where the local lord had absolute authority over his subjects. But, Marx had began implementing a parliamentary system, and had a Prime Minister. When the Admiral was on a visitation of those under his rule—the five nearest the lake he could drive to, the others he took his official runabout—he took time to sit through the drudgery of hearing local judicial disputes and complaints. So when he heard the scuffling outside the council chambers, he took it as a relief. He stood. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked out of the chambers. The Council and martial artists left the chambers as well. Marx saw his son go flying and land in the dirt. An overweight woodsman, wearing green dyed leathers, nodded his head. “That’s my girl,” he said. Marx looked at the woodsman, and made a mental assessment. He shook his head as his son tried, and went flying again. “My son needs something done about this.” “Perhaps I can be of service, Admiral.” “And you are?” “Genma Saotome, Master of the Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling. I’ve just recently started training my daughter, and she has taken to it like a duck to water.” Marx thought about it. It would definitely give his youngest son something to do, plus it would help smooth relations with the martial artists of Nerima. “Mr. Saotome, it’s a deal. When can he start?”

My darlings, I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote to you, but the Arcadia has been hectic. As your father was so fond of saying, Ranko, “The life of a martial artist is fraught with peril”, it’s even more so when you are a Starfleet officer. Especially when you’re going after slavers. And after something that happened to me on the mission, it’s made me reevaluate my life. Something happened during the last mission, something that made me wake up and smell the coffee. I hate my father for the hell he put me through, accepting both betrothals as valid, so…on my next leave, we’re going to make it official. I hate doing this, asking via email, since what I have to ask is important. But, since I’m not there, this is, unfortunately, the next best thing. Ranko, Xian Pu, will you both marry me, and be co-wives? Wo da Airen. Will

UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS STARFLEET COMMAND STARFLEET PERSONNEL COMMAND -=/\=- RECORD ACCESS -=/\=- CLASSIFICATION: CONFIDENTIAL/NOFORN SD 10305.20 Subject: Marx, William John Rank: Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Assignment: USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E Duty Position: Flight Controller/Astronavigator CAREER HISTORY Lieutenant Marx was assigned to the Arcadia-D straight from the Academy, originally assigned to the Science Department as an Astronomer/Astrophysicist. He was transferred to the bridge, at his own request. One of his more notable achievements while assigned to the Science Department was the creation of a synthetic intelligence known as HAL. HAL is designed to ease user interaction with the main computer, and to provide automated diagnostic and power distribution routing. The Arcadia D and E are the only ships in the Fleet so equipped. HAL is often heard at times arguing with another synthetic intelligence resident on the Arcadia’s main computer, known as Harvey, usually regarding ship’s disposition and company. PERSONAL HISTORY Lieutenant Marx is the second son of late Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx and Seriana Ravensward, and has a twin sister, Virginia, currently on faculty at the Vulcan Science Academy. His mother still resides on Rhydin. His stepmother, Admiral Lilliana Gunji, retired as Commander, Temporal Disturbance Investigations, and is serving in the Diplomatic Corps. Her children, William’s step brother and sister, are Commanders Hunter and Hayden Dacotah, and are serving as Chief Engineer, Utopia Planitia Naval Yard, and Executive Officer, USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-E, respectively. Two other elder half-siblings, Ensign (Dr.) Crystine Marx and Lt. Commander Christopher Marx, Jr., were killed in the line of duty. The causes of their deaths have been deemed Top Secret/SCI or higher, and are beyond the scope of this document. Lt. Marx, while growing up on Rhydin, trained in Musabetsu Kakutou Saotome-ryuu (Saotome School of Unrestricted Grappling/Anything Goes) martial arts, and is considered a 3rd Dan in the school, and holds master level certifications in several, more orthodox unarmed martial arts styles. During his time at Starfleet Academy, Rhydin, Lt. Marx was continually compared to his half-brother, who graduated in the top ten of his class, while William tended towards the bottom of the middle third of his class. His grades put him in loggerheads with his father, even though Admiral Marx retired from Starfleet as Rhydin Sector Commander on the day that his youngest son left for the Academy. There are, however, unsubstantiated reports that the eldest and youngest Marx were already fighting between themselves, regarding the younger’s future training and spouse. While the younger Marx was undergoing rigorous martial arts training with the founder of the Musabetsu Kakutou Saotome-ryuu, Saotome Genma, the Admiral agreed to have his son marry Sensei Saotome’s daughter, Ranko. The betrothal was duly recorded by the Nerima city offices, and is a matter of public record. As is the Lieutenant’s second betrothal to the Amazon warrior Xian Pu. Just prior to the Lieutenant’s entry into Starfleet Academy, Marx and the Saotomes were involved in a martial arts tournament in a village just outside of the boundaries of Antietam Ranch (see below). In an accident, Lt. Marx was given the Amazon Kiss of Marriage after defeating the village champion, Xian Pu. In an unfortunate turn of events for the young martial artist and Starfleet Cadet, the local authorities chose to follow Amazon laws and traditions, thereby recognizing the second betrothal. FAMILY HISTORY The late Fleet Admiral Christopher Marx was the first captain of the USS Antietam, NCC-1798-A, the lead vessel of the Antietam-class carrier/battleship. Marx commanded the Antietam until his first retirement as Rhydin Sector troubleshooter, holding the rank of Commodore, except for a stint as Commandant, Hostile Weather Survival School, Keflavik, Iceland. Marx was pulled out of retirement following the firing of the Rhydin Sector Commander, Fleet Admiral Hiro Nakajima, by Commander, Starfleet, promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral, and assigned as the new Sector Commander. The reasons for this occurrence are classified at a level higher than Top Secret/SCI, and are therefore beyond the scope of this document. During Marx’s first retirement, the Admiral began purchasing the 25000 square kilometer Antietam Ranch, an area roughly half the size of Bosnia-Herzegovina. However, due to the intervention of a junior third-level functionary at the Rhydin Bureau or Land Management, several small, non-aligned villages and towns became part of the Ranch, making the Admiral not only one of the largest landowners on the planet, but also a national leader. To quell the possibility of revolt or riot in his new territories, in his later capacity of Sector Commander had the sector Starfleet Corps of Engineers introduce modern sanitation, power distribution and transportation network to the new nation. The Admiral also introduced a parliamentary system of government for the citizens of the Ranch to enact laws for their citizens, and to allow for the Prime Minister and to run the new nation while the Admiral was away. By default of Rhydin being a Federation member, the new nation entered the Federation, and the Prime Minister also acts as the Ranch’s Ambassador to the sector council. Several veins of blue sapphire and diamonds were found within the territory of the Ranch, and environmentally friendly mining techniques were implemented. Several inconclusive battles were fought with the Joketsuzoku; a matriarchal tribe of warriors with ties to the Amazons of mythology had been transplanted from the hinterlands of China. Admiral Marx also tried political maneuvering and a peace treaty to peacefully have the tribe come into the boundaries of the Ranch. All attempts were rebuffed, until the Admiral’s youngest son defeated the village champion and received the Kiss of Marriage. The Admiral accepted the validity of the native custom, and allowed multiple marriages as a valid marriage type. The Amazon nation, led by Xian Pu’s great-grandmother, Kuh Lon, were welcomed into the borders of the Ranch. The Admiral’s first wife, Captain Jennifer Rand, served as the dedicated communications officer for the USS Antietam, until her promotion to the rank of Captain and assignment to the USS Blackhawk. Due to the nature of both vessels missions, relations were strained severely enough to warrant separation and divorce. Captain Rand remained commander of the Blackhawk until its destruction under unusual circumstances. Those circumstances are classified, and beyond the scope of this document. Their first son, Lt. Commander Christopher Marx, Jr., served on the USS Arcadia, NCC-1742-D, from SD 9505.00 to 10005.15, in the capacities of assistant science officer, Security Department Executive Officer, under Commander William T. Moose, and Tactical Officer. Commander Marx also served in an unofficial capacity as the Arcadia’s Special Operations operative, having undergone training at Starfleet’s Special Operations School, Ft. Benning, GA, NorthAm, Sol III. During his time serving on the Arcadia, Commander Marx was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder regarding the death of his twin sister, Ens. Crystine Marx (see below). Various methods were used to treat the disorder, but was never successfully treated. He was killed in the line of duty after leaving the Arcadia. The circumstances of his death remain classified Top Secret/SCI due to the nature of the mission, and are beyond the scope of this document. Their daughter, Ensign (Dr.) Crystine Marx, served aboard the USS Antietam in the capacity of Medical Officer, from her graduation from Starfleet Medical Academy, with a degree in traditional internal and xenomedicine, until her death. The circumstances surrounding her death are classified at a level higher than Top Secret/SCI, and are therefore beyond the scope of this document. During his retirement, then-Commodore Marx met and subsequently married Seriana Ravensward. Two children, fraternal twins, resulted from the marriage—William John and Virginia. After his reactivation and subsequent promotion, Admiral Marx’s relationship with his second wife became strained, resulting in an inevitable divorce. The Admiral received joint custody of the twins, until receiving full custody at the request of his ex-wife. Virginia graduated from the Vulcan Science Academy with degrees in Mathematics and Theoretical Mathematics, and is currently serving on the faculty of the esteemed institution. Upon the Admiral’s death, due to natural causes, Antietam Ranch was divided into six equal parts—one portion going to each surviving child. MEDICAL HISTORY Lt. Marx suffers from a genetically inherited allergy to the Retnax-series of ocular treatments, forcing the Lieutenant to wear eyeglasses. This allergy was inherited from his father, and has occurred in all three Marx males. There are no limitations to the Lieutenant’s duty assignments as a result of the use of glasses. Psychological Profile Due to an incident while undergoing martial arts training on Rhydin, Cadet Marx exhibits a severe, almost pathological, fear of deep water. The incident, an attack by a predator native to Rhydin known as a ‘hundredtentacles’, involved a young William Marx actually being eaten by the creature. As a result of the attack, Cadet Marx cannot be in water any deeper than 15 feet for any prolonged time. If he is in deeper water for a prolonged length, agitation and nervousness begin. If he has not been removed, catatonia will set in, as he withdraws himself to protect his very sanity. The catatonic state will last until some twenty to thirty minutes after removal from the deep water to shallow water or out entirely. I have tried multiple treatment methods, without successful results. The patient remained unaffected in water up to 15 feet in depth, but the moment he was placed in deeper water, agitation and nervousness set in. After prolonged testing, the patient entered a catatonic state, slowing down his metabolism and respiratory rate, throwing the monitors into panic mode. Group therapy, hypnotherapy and medication did nothing to prevent the patient from going into his catatonic state when placed in deep water. The only way that I found that did not cause the patient to enter a catatonic state was when his sense of honor was required. When I asked him about this, the patient advised me that his sensei always told him “It is the duty of a martial artist to protect the weak.” It is my recommendation that the patient be waived from deep water training, and to be assigned where the possibilities of encountering deep water will be minimal, as he may present a risk to his shipmates if he were to enter such a situation, unless his sense of honor is required. Signed: S’Freud Staff Psychiatrist Starfleet Academy, Rhydin QUALIFICATIONS Lt Marx is a qualified pilot on atmospheric-only, trans-atmospheric, and exo-atmospheric craft and is a qualified helmsman on Galaxy and Sovereign-class starships. He is also qualified on all manner of internal combustion powered vehicles. Although he prefers not to use weapons, he is qualified on Type I and II phasers.