Annabelle O'Halloran

*This log takes place during a quiet moment before the events of last week's sim. They were about one week out from Camelot Station and so far so good--no more Boganary had made an appearance and they hadn't seen any sign of either the Satarami or the Cult of Iyves. Anna discreetly rapped her knuckles on the table in the hope that their good fortune would continue. Not that the table was made of wood, but it was the thought that counted, she told herself as she contemplated her bowl of replicated vegetable soup. Not a very prepossessing lunch at first glance even with the element of mystery created by not being able to recognize the vegetables. She wasn't that hungry anyway. Taking a lunch break had just been a good reason to leave the lab. Her morning had been spent in Sci lab 4 cataloging lost specimens and data. It was disheartening how much had been lost although one bright spot was that Dr. Smith was very excited about the opportunity to get brand new, up-to-the-minute equipment. She wondered if they would be able to get everything at Camelot or if some of it would have to wait till they got back to the Alpha Quadrant. Debbie hurried into the mess hall and marched up to one of the replicators. She quickly scanned the lunch menu, her frown deepening as each entree was presented. If it weren't for her stomach making all sorts of embarrassing noises, she wouldn't have bothered with lunch at all. But the growling tummy and the fact she desperately needed to get away from Sickbay for a while led her to face her current dilemma. Nothing on this particular menu appealed to her. Still, she had to eat. So, rather than allow the menu to continue she ordered a chicken salad sandwich on wheat bread with a side of mayo and an iced tea. She figured the confounded machine couldn't mess up chicken salad too badly. The mayo was another issue altogether. A moment later, her lunch appeared in the midst of a soft whirring sound. She picked up the plate and glass and looked around for a place to park. That's when she spotted Anna O'Halloran sitting by herself at a table by the windows. A small smile tugged on Debbie's lips as she made her way across the room. She'd been intrigued about Anna's concern for a particular security officer. Now would be a good time to pick the young woman's brain. "Would you mind some company?" asked Debbie cheerfully as she approached the table, wondering if the junior officer would dare say no. Anna looked up at the sound of Debbie's voice, smiling automatically at the sight of the Chief Medical Officer. "Of course, I wouldn't mind," Anna answered, just as cheerfully as she'd been asked. "I'd be glad of it, to tell you the truth." She'd discovered that Debbie Matthews had a wicked sense of humor while taking emergency medical training under her direction and seemed to have the enviable ability to appear calm when all about her was chaos. Anna envied her that quality of unflappability. Debbie slid her tray onto the table, pulled out the chair and sat down. "Thanks," she replied, eyeing the sandwich on her plate. She cautiously lifted the top piece of bread and examined the contents. "At least it smells like chicken salad," she quipped, picking up the small container of mayonnaise and giving it a quick sniff. "And this smells like mayo." Deb looked over at Anna's lunch....some kind of soup. "How's yours?" she asked. "What kind of soup is that?" Anne watched with interest as Debbie examined her chicken sandwich and sniffed the mayo as if she wouldn't have been a bit surprised to encounter food poisoning. Reaent's Chief Medical Officer clearly didn't trust the replicator and Anna looked at her soup with newly suspicious eyes. "It's a little bland and it's vegetable soup of no discernible origin." She took a spoonful anyway. Might as well live on the edge. With a quiet sigh, Debbie plopped the mayo onto the top piece of bread and smeared it around with the knife provided with her lunch. "Don't mind me," she remarked after noticing Anna's doubtful glance at the bowl of soup. "The food is safe enough." She looked up with a grin. "But sometimes, it doesn't taste the way you expect it to." She took a small bite of her sandwich, slowly chewed it and swallowed. "I'm not sure what planet this chicken came from," she continued, placing the sandwich back in the plate. "But at least it has some flavor." She picked up her glass and took a sip. It was time to move on to her next line of questioning. "I haven't seen you around much since you finished your emergency medical training," said Debbie nonchalantly. "How are things going with the esteemed Mr. Smith?" "I seem to have spent most of my time helping to straighten up the labs and coming up with a list of what's been lost and what can be repaired." She'd enjoyed training in Medical and looked forward to refresher courses. Anna smiled as she recalled Brian's enthusiasm during a recent conversation. "Dr. Smith is very excited that Science now has the opportunity to get re-equipped with some brand new cutting edge technology. The labs all need to practically be rebuilt so I'm looking forward to seeing what we end up with." The whole ship looked like it needed to be rebuilt. The CMO chuckled but remained tight lipped. She chose not to share her feelings on the need to re-equip the science labs along with eighty percent of the ship. She could certainly understand Brian's enthusiasm over obtaining "cutting edge technology." But Deb would have preferred he get his new toys without the Reaent suffering such devastating losses. Equipment could always be replaced. Those killed during their recent encounters were gone forever. "I'm sure that's keeping you busy," said Deb after swallowing another bite of her sandwich. "But I hope you've had time to get to know some people. Found anyone interesting to hang around with?" Unaware that she'd hit a nerve with her innocent recounting of her conversation with Dr. Smith, Anna took a final swallow of her tea before setting the mug to the side of the bowl of soup she would not be finishing. "I feel like I've gotten to know the people in my department pretty well," Anna answered, noting that the noise in the mess was getting louder as the tables around them started to fill up. "And Jon Shamor's been nice enough to work with me so that I can improve my weapon certifications." She smiled a little wryly at Debbie and shrugged. "Thankfully, we haven't run into anyone since our encounter with those three ships that probably belonged to the Boganary but better safe than sorry, I suppose." "Let's hope you'll never have to use those weapons," replied Debbie placidly. "At least not anytime soon." She looked across the table at the science officer and smiled warmly. "But I'm not surprised Shamor took the time to work with you. I've often wondered if all Zemuns are as dedicated and loyal as he is." Anna folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her seat, automatically returning Debbie's smile. She also wondered what other Zemuns were like. Such a long life span was almost unprecedented and she still found it a little startling. Twenty-two hundred and thirteen was a long time to have lived and it amazed her to think of what he might have seen. "He's completely devoted to the well-being of this ship and crew," Anna answered, agreeing completely with Debbie's assessment of Jon's loyalty. She didn't mention that he had hinted at an earlier, darker time in his life. "He's one of the good guys," replied Deb with a quick nod. She made eye contact with her luncheon companion and offered her a wry grin. "I suppose you could say Jontiles Shamor is a.....multi layered individual...but he's definitely one of the good guys." She picked up her glass of tea as her grin widened into a smile. "I'm sure he's pleased to have you as a friend." Anna didn't quite know how to respond to Debbie or if her statement even required an answer and so settled for murmuring that she hoped he did because she considered herself lucky to count him as one of hers. She didn't doubt that he was one of the 'good guys'. A man with Jon's abilities and experience no doubt had many options open to him but chose to serve in Starfleet. Multilayered? Undoubtedly, and still very much an enigma to her. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see him walking around on his own two legs again, Debbie. You told me he'd be ok after his accident but it was sure nice to see him walk into that tavern down on Ha'vorante, no wheel chair in sight." Deb nodded while chewing on another bite of her sandwich. "He was instrumental in getting himself back on his feet," she said when she finally managed to swallow. "He's the only Zemun in the fleet so we have very little knowledge of their physiology. We've studied Jon to pieces but there is still a lot we don't understand about his species." She picked up her glass and continued. "It was Jon who came up with an idea about what his problem might be. He and Merina worked on it and.....now he's on his feet again." She took a sip from her glass and looked curiously at Anna. "Did the two of you enjoy your time together on Ha'vorante?" "We didn't actually spend that much time together. He came down late, right around the same time as Ensign T'Kar from Security. Wade Knight from Engineering was also there." Anna smiled as she thought of T'kar's offer to teach herself and Jon the Vulcan harp. She was tone deaf--T'kar was going to have her work cut out for her. "I had no idea how musical Reaent's crew is. Jon rocks out on the guitar, T'kar plays the Vulcan harp and Wade mentioned he could play the piano." She found herself wondering when Jon had least seen another Zemun. Debbie had just been commenting about the difficulties involved with treating a species that the data base didn't have complete records on but Anna wondered if Jon was lonely for his people, for his family. Maybe when you lived for as long as he had...would...your idea of time spent apart was different. Maybe a couple of centuries was equivalent to two years to a human. "Maybe they should start a band of some kind," quipped Deb. "This ship could use a little....culture." She finished off her sandwich and pushed the plate away. "Do you have any hobbies?" "A concert would be nice." Anna agreed with Debbie, noting her pause before she said the word 'culture'. Reaent could benefit from some extra curricular events that might pull the crew together. Of course it could also use some repairs to the holodecks and gyms. And every other square inch of the ship. "And as for hobbies, I've been collecting folk stories, you know...legends and the like since I was around twelve. My...family has kept their history alive through oral retelling and I noticed that the legends of a lot of different species have many similarities in common." Looking regretfully into her empty tea mug, Anna decided against a refill since lunch was just about over. "Oh, I also make edged weapons." She glanced up and caught Debbie's expression. "Just smaller ones...I don't have the upper body strength to work a larger piece of steel." Anna's revelation came as a surprise to Debbie, a surprise she couldn't easily hide. She knew very little about the science officer but she had a difficult time imagining this refined young woman had a serious interest in edged weapons. It appeared Jon Shamor wasn't the only multilayered individual on the Reaent. "From collecting folk legends to fabricating small edged weapons," chuckled Deb. "You're interests are widely varied." "I come by it honestly," Anna answered a little dryly, but with a smile. "My family has crafted and sold them for generations. I apprenticed at a young age and also enjoy working with gem stones and precious metals." She realized that Debbie was asking all the questions and felt suddenly as if she'd been very rude. "Debbie, what do you like to do? I know you've had almost no spare time since...well, since I came aboard at Risa but given half a chance, how do you like to spend your free time?" Debbie knew the answer to that question. But she doubted her husband would appreciate her sharing it with a junior officer. Instead, she smiled gamely and shook her head. "If I had free time, I'd sleep. Or I'd spend a few hours a day in the arboretum. They allow the crew to grow their own gardens. I had one for a while but you need time to take care of it. I had to give it up three or four years ago." "I've never seen you when you weren't being run off your feet," Anna replied quietly, while thinking, No time to even look after a small garden? She'd been thinking of asking Debbie if she and Commander Ridire had any plans to start a family, but after what the Reaent had been through in Anna's short time upon her, she assumed anyone who wanted to start a family would request a transfer first. And then light a candle every day that they should survive until it came through. "We've been pretty busy in Sickbay during the past few missions," sighed Deb. "And the more patients we have, the more records we're forced to keep. The paperwork is horrendous. When things finally settle down, all I want to do is vegetate." She met Anna's gaze and grinned coyly. "Of course, it doesn't hurt to have someone to vegetate with. My biggest regret is we have so little time together." Anna smiled in response to Debbie's grin which told its own story. "You'd think that serving on the same ship would ensure that the one thing you would be able to do would be to spend a lot of that time together." Anna's smile brightened, as she added, "The past three weeks have been very quiet. Maybe it's a new trend."

Anna looked at the target and then the computer kept score. She set the rifle's safety and then stepped and looked sideways at Jon. They were both off duty and he'd been working with her on using the phaser rifle in the week and a half since they'd left the Vorta homeworld behind. She didn't say anything and waited for him to weigh in on her results. Nodding with approval, Jon said, "Excellent improvement from last time. Although, I wonder how well you can shoot from the hip." She gave him a speaking glance, and looked at what she still felt was the unwieldy length of the rifle before setting it down. "You can't shoot a rifle from the hip unless you are much taller than I am or have freakishly disproportionate body strength." She smiled then and with only a hint of mischief, pulled her knife from the sheath that hung from her belt and almost faster than human eyes could follow, hurled it, not surprised to see it land as a perfect bull's-eye in the target. "It's a pity it's not standard issue with the uniform," she said with a tinge of real regret. They were in casual clothes and she'd brought the knife thinking to get some practice in after the phaser training was done. She turned her head and smiled at him with a little bit of self-satisfaction, adding, "That's as from the hip as I can get, Jon." He let out a chuckle, "I meant shooting without aiming, but as for that knife, it got some good distance which means you have some good reflexes." He then walked over to retrieve it. "Let's see you try a throw like that again." Shamor handed the knife back to Anna with a grin on his face. She took the knife back and there was just something about his smile that gave her pause. It had a little too much cat that ate the canary to it. "No problem. This I can do in my sleep." She flipped it a couple of times and then raised her arm and let it fly, looking ahead to the target. She definitely needed practice hitting moving targets with a phaser, not to even mention the phaser rifle but with a knife, it was like the blade knew where the target was going before it got there. As she launched the knife, confident that it would hit the target again, Shamor caught it in mid-flight and proceeded to examine it. Clearly he was impressed by the craftsmanship of the blade. Anna looked from the still empty target to her knife. In Jon's hands. She'd been aware of him moving but hadn't seen this coming. "Oh, that is just not right," she complained in a joking manner. "I know about the eye but this is ridiculous. You asked me about shooting from the hip but catching something moving as fast as that knife was and not being sliced by it, is just crazy." While grinning, "I wasn't using my eye, that was pure instinct. Besides that's easier than laser deflection. By the way where did you get this blade, it's well made." "Laser deflection? You can deflect laser fire?" Anna just shook her head and resheathed her knife. "I saw it but I still don't hardly believe it and I made the knife." She reached for his hands and turned them over, checking for herself that there wasn't a nick on them before letting them go. "Unbelievable." Looking down at his hands, he said, "To think these hands can build, defend, and destroy. I hope you don't think of me differently." "I don't think anything bad about you, Jon," Anna responded immediately, not wanting him to think his abilities made her nervous. Of course, they did, a little. "You've never said or done anything that makes me think you would ever behave in a dishonorable way." He'd said build and defend which seemed to be very much in character for him. However, the word 'destroy' gave her pause. "I'm just wondering," she asked, meeting his pale green gaze. "When would destruction be called for?" He shook his head. "That was from a time in which I was different. When all I knew was the art of war. Through my travels I've managed to put my skills to better use." "And those skills are formidable," Anna answered lightly seeing the shadows in his eyes when he talked about the past. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to have memories more than two thousand years old. "It's getting late, how about we go get some lunch and you can pick an era and tell me the best things about it?" Nodding with approval, he replied, "I'd like that."

*Note: Megan Doyle is played by Samantha Kent. Thanks, Sam. The last thing Anna had expected when she'd walked into the rustic bar and grill on Ha'Vorante was that she would encounter someone who knew her family, someone who'd been part of her clan, and Anna was just realizing with growing discomfort--someone who should have become her sister by bonding. Megan Doyle had been her oldest brother Sean's promised. It had been so long--the schism in the clan had occurred before her tenth birthday and Sean had been with Eleanor for years. She didn't know what to say. Megan was apparently in the area looking to expand her family's interests in the Gamma Quadrant and Anna realized she would have no idea Anna was in Starfleet. The crew hadn't worn their uniforms down to the surface. "Megan, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you at first, but you surprised me and I'm sorry if I seemed rude. It's been a very long time." Megan Doyle paused, her fork digging into a bit of the Vorta restaurant's best local delicacy; the fact that it looked like road kill didn't prevent it from being nourishing enough. She looked a little amused at Anna's apology and shrugged with a shake of her head. "No offense taken, Anna," she said with a calm smile, falling immediately into the younger woman's nickname as she remembered it from the days back on Kilo Station. "It has been a long time at that...last I saw of you, you were running about at waist level. Grown up pretty neat and tidy, haven't you?" Her easy manner partially masked the intensity with which her green eyes were focused on Anna's face. One accumulated a lot of news in the amount of time it had been since her family had broken off from the Whelan clan's...business conglomerate, and all of it was of marked interest to the trader. "So what brings you so far out from Kilo?" If she told Megan about Starfleet immediately, she would gain no information that she could send back to Kilo. And that would be all right, Anna thought to herself, realizing that she'd been thinking of using this chance meeting with Megan as an opportunity for leveraging communication with her three older brothers and father, all four of whom had been very vocally disapproving when she'd informed them that she would be entering Starfleet. She'd been back to Kilo several times since, of course, but the coldness was always there. They took no pride in her accomplishments-quite the reverse-it was a source of shame for them. It annoyed her that she would even think of trying to court their approval by reporting on what a rival group of smugglers might be up to. She met Megan's intense gaze with a level one of her own, choosing brevity as she answered, "A Federation starship." Megan blinked. "Federation?" For a moment she debated several different interpretations of this statement. It could mean that Whelan's legitimate arm had taken up military contracts -- which seemed exceedingly unlikely -- or that they had found an astonishingly useful contact and opened up a gunrunning line or some other such more profitable enterprise -- less unlikely but rather improbably difficult -- or that Anna had made a massive career change and left Whelan just as thoroughly as Megan had. As this seemed the most likely, she couldn't restrain a low laugh, raising her eyebrows at Anna. "I bet ol' Edmond just loved you for that." "Aye, he did. Sean, Daniel and Brian gave me holy hell as well," Anna responded, her tone not without bitterness but her eyes gleaming with amusement. Megan was one of the only people outside of Kilo who would understand what choosing Starfleet over the family business would mean to Anna, and having known Edmond O'Halloran and his three oldest sons, would realize how much pressure would have been brought to bear on the only female O'Halloran to fulfill her family duty and bond well. Megan's tight expression didn't shift but the intense look in her eyes did slightly, shifting to encompass a certain amount of frustration -- she had hoped when she had spotted Anna that she might have had an opportunity to get hard information on Whelan's activities over the last fourteen years, something which was in short supply given the clan's strict control over their organization. But if Anna had abandoned the family as well, she probably wasn't given very much in terms of insider information anymore. Megan set her legs as if to pull back from the table -- no need to waste any more time -- and gave a quick nod, a dry smile. "Aye...they didn't think much of our leaving either. Never saw Sean look quite that angry." She looked as if she wanted to say something further, but seemed to think better of it and stabbed instead at the road kill meal, forking a bit into her mouth. When Megan and the rest of the schism group had left Kilo, Anna hadn't yet reached ten years of age. Sean had bonded with Eleanor a couple of years later and Anna had never given a thought to what had happened between her oldest brother and Megan before she left. She looked at it now with adult eyes and perspective as she watched Megan eat the revolting looking lunch special. "Sean knew you were leaving, then?" Megan shrugged. "Asked him to come with," she said casually, as if it didn't matter. "Didn't take much talking to realize he wasn't too keen on that idea." She looked at Anna and smiled a slow grin. "I'd imagine you have a pretty good idea of the kind of loyalty Whelan inspires, especially with those who get to make the rules rather than follow them." "Clan Whelan has only survived because of the rules laid down in the beginning and strict adherence to them," Anna replied automatically, her mind on something else, her interest and imagination captured by Megan's words. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, but not worried since her gran wasn't around to take her to task for her lack of etiquette. "Sean would never leave--he's being groomed to be the next Chief, and you had to know that." Megan's grin twitched downward at the corners, and then back up. "It was an experiment in hope which didn't last very long," she said dryly. "And in burning my bridges...after that even if I'd wanted to stay, your lot wouldn'ta taken me back. Sean doesn't forget things all that easily, and he got it from your father. So we went off to do our own thing -- and I have to say it hasn't worked out too badly for us; been well outta the red for years now, and a lot more freedom into the bargain," she added, straightening slightly, though the sentence had its own rote quality to it as well. She wondered what Anna had seen in Starfleet that had drawn her out of the trading business entirely; that clean a break was something that rarely even crossed anyone's mind in the circles she ran in. "No, Sean never forgets and he does not forgive...easily." She knew that too well from how he'd responded to her 'betrayal' of the family, but that's not what was so interesting about Megan's story. Anna looked up and smiled, holding Megan's sharper, cooler gaze with her own. "He knew what you were planning and yet you still managed to leave with two freighters. He could have stopped you, let the rest of them know what your group was planning...but he didn't." Anna picked up her glass of berry juice and lifted it to take a sip but paused and looked at Megan over the rim of the glass. "He let you go when you said you wouldn't stay. He didn't betray your trust." Megan grunted. "Your brother is a good man," she said, quickly swallowing the last few bits of her meal and finally engaging her legs to push her chair back from the table. She didn't look away from Anna's gaze, though she seemed rather to be regretting having started the conversation in the first place. "I notice you managed to get out with all parts in working order yourself. Must be a soft spot in there somewhere. Whelan may be in trouble; I doubt they can afford that kind of inattention." Her tone grew a little sardonic, though she grinned again. "Until you told me that he knew and your group still left unscathed and with two ships, I'd have bet that Sean was granite clear through and I'll be honest, I still think so." Anna leaned back, Megan was clearly on the verge of leaving and she'd no reason to hold her. She didn't even know that she wanted to try and prolong the conversation but she was grateful for having had one. She welcomed the insight into her brother. "It was a pleasure to see you again, Megan." She raised her glass a final time and smiled, saying the traditional Clan goodbye, "Go raibh tú daibhir i mí-áidh, agus saibhir i mbeannachtaí." May you be poor in misfortune-rich in blessings. Megan blinked, as if remembering something she hadn't thought of for a while, then laughed. "To Whelan, generally my proscribed response is Imeacht gan teacht ort, but as neither of us seems much inclined for clan warfare at the moment...Gurab amhlaidh duit. Sláinte!" Standing up quickly she pushed her chair back in and inclined her head in departure. "Give Sean my regards, should you ever happen to see him in better temper than you left him." And she disappeared back into the crowds. Anna started laughing, Imeacht gan teacht ort meant 'May you leave without returning' and was very appropriate for unwanted visitors. She was pleased that Megan had instead gone with 'The same to you. To your health!.' She watched, rather bemused as the older woman darted away, lost from view almost immediately, the final remark about Sean still hanging in the air. She was pretty sure that Megan had not enjoyed having old memories stirred up, and Anna couldn't rightly say she blamed her. She herself had left Colum and her bond promise behind willingly, nay eagerly. Megan's situation had been altogether different. Anna hoped she'd found what she'd gone looking for all those years ago.

Deck 22 hadn't withstood the punishment Reaent had endured any better than any of the other decks. Anna had looked in on the botanical garden a week ago and had only stayed for a few minutes. Ship's systems hadn't been able to afford the luxury of keeping the garden viable and most of the plants had died as a result. The Biological Sciences lab hadn't faired too well either and many of the specimens had perished. Today, she was sitting in Sci Lab 4 and the damaged equipment surrounding her wasn't nearly as depressing as the Garden or Bio lab. Besides, she was intent on the computer's analysis of the attack, which had happened three days ago and wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. Based on the material from Excalibur, it definitely appeared to have been the Boganary. Shamor entered the lab holding a PADD. "I hope you don't mind but I could use a second set of eyes for my report." He offered the PADD to Anna so she could look at it. Slightly startled, not having expected anyone, Anna looked around as the doors opened and watched Jon wheel himself towards her, extending a PADD as he drew close enough for her to reach it. "Sure..." she answered with a wry smile, adding, "...and hello to you, too." Activating the PADD, she began to read. "The 'skirmish' with the Boganary had me wondering; how many hurdles do you think we have to jump in order to get to Camelot?" The look on his face showed quite a bit of concern. Looking up from his report, which was dovetailing nicely with the computer analysis she'd just been going through, Anna looked at him thoughtfully, and idly tapped the PADD against her knee. "Well, according to the Excal data, these pirates we just brushed up against only travel a small part of the territory we are going to pass through--and we are now away from that area, although," she added with a resigned smile, "I wouldn't count on them staying put." Turning to the console screen at her back, she brought up the Excal data and tapped her screen. "Did you read up on the Cult of Iyves, yet?" She glanced over her shoulder and now her expression echoed the same concern she'd seen written on his face. "They have some kind of transporter technology that allows them to tear a victim off another ship right through active shields. Makes the Boganary seem like a day at the beach." She continued, her voice falling almost to a whisper. "They drain the blood—maybe as some sort of sacrifice..." He nodded, "I've read up on the cult as well as the Satarami that appear to control them. They seem nastier from the last time. Although I think the Boganary was just a tip of the iceberg." Turning to Anna, "What do you personally think of the situation, off the record of course?" Anna smiled a little, and turned back towards him, leaving the ugly, albeit brief material on the Cult of Iyves glowing on the screen behind her. "Off the record, eh?" She shrugged, saying, "Ok, Jon, but my opinion's not worth a heck of a lot since this is my first trip to the Gamma Quadrant." She spoke slowly, trying to pin down her impressions for him. "We're strangers here and meeting up with the Boganary right off the bat sets a certain tone. Even though Excalibur seems to have a certain relationship with some of the species of this part of space, I don't think we can count on that to open too many doors for us. In fact, for whatever reasons, we may already have a target on us because of Excalibur and her past dealings with them." Anna looked seriously into Jon's eyes, quietly adding, "I think Camelot is a long way away and we're in no real shape if anyone picks a quarrel with us. I don't feel good about our chances." Nodding slowly in acknowledgment to Anna's comments, "I know it seems bad and to be honest it might get worse. No matter what happens, I will do everything in my power to protect this ship and its crew. We will make it; we can't let setbacks keep us from losing faith in reaching our goal." "I know you will, Jon," she began quietly, reaching out and briefly touching his wrist where it rested on the arm of his wheelchair. It was possible that Reaent had already cost him more than anybody should be expected to give. "I hope you don't think that my saying the odds are stacked against us means I've given up?" She pulled her hand away and leaned forward. "It's exactly the opposite--this is my first mission! I didn't do everything I've had to do-to even get to and through the Academy to let it mean nothing by not making it out of this backwater place. This ship's already lost too many crew." Wondering if anything she'd just said had even made any sense, she sat back and looked at him. "I just don't know how much more the ship can take before she reaches Camelot. I never doubt the crew for a second." Laughing a little to try and ease the tension, "If you thought this was crazy, try having your first assignment during the Dominion war. Now that was chaos in its purest form. Besides nothing makes sense right away, plus I am sure we'll make it to Camelot in one piece." His laughter brought a grin to her face and it was with relief that she felt the feeling of foreboding slip away. "That's right, you fought in the Dominion War." She gave him an appraising look, taking in the imposing physique and the deep green skin that did not betray the ravages of time. She knew he was 2,219 years old but he just didn't look it. If asked, she would have said he looked mid-30's-tops. Too young to have fought in that old campaign. "So, why is it you are such an optimist, Mr. Shamor?" she asked with a teasing smile. "A man who's lived as long as you have must have some insight. Clue me in." Shrugging, "it's just an ideal that stuck with me, that and it's also past experience that reinforces it. Granted, the situation gets bad but it will always get better later on. If you focus on the negative you lose sight of the positive." "And the positive in this case?" She agreed with him but was wondering what about their current situation still had him seeing the glass as half-full. "The positive is that we are alive and the ship is mostly in one piece. Granted I'd prefer to either be at either Camelot or Risa but that's just my opinion." "We are alive," and the way she said it made it an affirmation, but then she smiled, adding, "I think to say that the ship is mostly in one piece is rather overstating it." Glancing down, she realized she was still holding his PADD. She looked once again at the material on it, absently finishing a thought out loud. "Risa is where I came on board. That's where everything that is Reaent to me begins." Looking up, she smiled and offered him back his PADD. "I think you captured the details of the skirmish perfectly. They never meant to truly damage the ship and they utilized at least two different types of weapon's systems. The Boganary are a treacherous adversary. We'd be smart to stay out of their territory until we're at full strength." "Hopefully, we passed their territory and never have to worry about them. As long as we don't cross paths with the Satarami we should be just fine. They can be downright nasty, especially in face to face situations." He was talking like he knew which meant he'd met up with them before, she thought. "They're telepathic according to the material we have." She'd been raised to be wary of telepaths. The Clan preferred not to deal with them directly for obvious reasons but her time at the Academy had done much to overcome that learned prejudice. It hadn't overcome it completely, however, and she felt uneasiness when Jon said their name out loud. "What have you experienced from them?" "Their telepathic powers shouldn't be underestimated at all. Very ruthless due to their xenophobic nature. If you feel like something is poking your mind, quickly think of something unorthodox. I played poker in my mind which kept them from trying to figure out classified secrets among other things, but that of course was about 30 years ago so I'm betting a lot has changed since then." She felt a distinct chill at his words and unconsciously rubbing her arms, met his gaze with a bleak expression of her own, asking, "Why should anything have changed? Excal doesn't mention that they are overly friendly." "In any case I think we should hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Pretty much all crewmembers are required to carry a phaser at all times. I'm sorry if I happened to have unnerved you earlier but I don't want you caught off guard." "No, that's ok. I suppose I seem naive to you--heck, I seem naive to me. I'd rather always know the truth and I appreciate your frankness." She looked a little nonplussed. "We're all supposed to be wearing a sidearm?" This was news to her and the only thing she had in the lab with her that could constitute a weapon were the pieces of a broken stool thrown into the corner awaiting their trip to the recycler. Shaking his head, "You don't seem naïve; I've known Humans to have an excessive amount of curiosity. Normally, only security officers carry a sidearm. When the situation changes, however, everyone must have one unless informed otherwise. It's a way of keeping everyone safe. Which reminds me, have you been trained in proper phaser use?" Anna looked at him a little doubtfully. "I was certified to use a Type II in the Academy but I'll be honest--I haven't practiced at all since then." She didn't think it was germane to the conversation to mention that she was much more experienced and comfortable with a throwing knife. It wasn't easy to explain that sort of thing and she wondered if she should start wearing one in a concealed sheath. Frankly, she didn't know how well a concealed knife was going to protect her in the event she came up against a powerful telepath who would sense her thoughts before she could pull her weapon. Still, might come in handy against the creepy Iyves Cultists. She decided to think about that later and gave Jon a winning smile. "I think I'm going to need a refresher on phaser usage," she said and added hopefully, "I don't suppose you think I should also know how to handle a compression rifle, too?" "I'm afraid you'll need certification to use the rifles, but as long as your accuracy is decent you might get a chance to use one. If we get some more free time I can take you to the shooting range to see where you stand." "That's very nice of you, Jon, I appreciate that. I'll feel more comfortable wearing a phaser once I've re-familiarized myself with it, and so far it looks like free time isn't going to be too much of a problem, now that we've left the wormhole and the Romulans behind." She leaned back in her seat and changed the subject, asking him quietly, "I've been wondering, and please feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but what have you found out about your legs?" Frowning after thinking about it, "I'm just not sure, I guess I wasn't at 100%. There are times where I feel great and others where I can't even do my usual training regimen. I have a good idea on what caused it but I'm not sure how to fix it." "What does Dr. Matthews say?" she prodded gently. She'd had three days of emergency medical training in Sickbay so far but had never brought the subject up to Debbie. The CMO knew her question would stem from genuine concern but Anna didn't feel it was appropriate to ask behind Jon's back. "She believes it was caused by something I did when I was 'away', and I know for a fact that she's right. The method for correcting the problem however is elusive." Rubbing his legs out of reflex "if worse comes to worst I'd rather wear exo-skeletal leg braces than be stuck in this chair for life." Frowning, Anna looked at his legs and then met his glance with puzzled eyes. "I thought you were injured when you were thrown so violently when we caught the shockwave after that sixth Warbird exploded." She didn't see the need to tell him that his lying at her feet in agony had inspired her to ask Debbie for training. "What do you mean it was something that happened when you were away? Were you on leave?" "I believe that's a story for another time. Perhaps we can discuss this later?" Anna blinked and nodded her head slowly. "Of course, we can." She remembered that he'd only come into the lab for her to take a look at his tactical report and probably had other things to do. "Thank you for letting me see the report, Jon. It ties in nicely with what I'm putting together for Commander Smith." She smiled a little shyly, adding, "If you find you do have some time, I would appreciate a refresher on phaser use." "Come find me in a few hours, then we can see how good you are with a phaser." "I'll do that." She hadn't been too bad as she recalled, but again, it wasn't her weapon of choice.

In the three days since they'd left the mined wormhole behind, Anna had filed some reports, kept an eye on sensor data and helped clean up a couple of labs that had taken quite a beating, just as the rest of the ship had. A lot of equipment was in need of repair. Now, she had two days off in a row and was hoping to get started on a project inspired by what happened on the Bridge after the sixth and very elusive Warbird had returned, no life signs aboard her but her purpose clear all the same. She'd been rigged to slam into Reaent and finish the job the other five had started. The Warbird's final mission had been a failure but the blowback from its demise had not been without devastating results-Reaent's aft shields hadn't been working and the resulting shock wave had hit the crew hard. The injuries to the Bridge crew had been severe and she had felt helpless. She thought of Jon Shamor lying there unable to move, in obvious agony, while both Captain Michaels and Commander Ridire had also been incapacitated. From what little she'd heard, the Captain was still suffering the effects; it was rumored that his brain injury had robbed him of his ability to command. Having lived on a station all her life, Anna knew better than to listen to rumor and she hoped this one wasn't true. She entered Sickbay a couple of hours into Alpha Shift hoping to get a chance to talk to Debbie Matthews. The Chief Medical Officer had been run off her feet as had her entire staff, and part of Anna didn't want to bother her but the other part, the part that hated feeling helpless, wanted to ask her if it would be possible to get some kind of emergency medical training. It was that part that had her pausing outside Debbie's office and quietly rapping her knuckles on the door frame. "Dr. Matthews?" Anna waited till she looked up and then smiled, a little shyly. "Would you have time to talk to me for a couple of minutes?" Debbie glanced at the open door with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. She'd expected to find one of her staff requesting permission to discuss yet another problem....and there were still a lot of problems in Sickbay. But the CMO was growing weary of adding one thing after another to the list of malfunctioning equipment and she really, really, really didn't want to hear anymore complaints from patients who were convinced there was no reason for them to remain in Sickbay. That was especially true of the Captain. She couldn't wait to toss him out of her medical facility but duty came before pleasure. Fred Michaels still wasn't ready to be released. In that regard, she was relieved to see Anna O'Halloran standing in the doorway. At the same time, Debbie was a little embarrassed. Her office looked like it had been the target of the Warbird's attack. Padds were everywhere....her desk....the floor.....the chairs....they were even stacked up on the small sofa on the other side of the room. If nothing else, the encounter with the Romulans had created an abundance of paper work, most of which was waiting for her review and approval. "Of course," replied Deb with a generous smile. "Come in. Move whatever is in that chair and have a seat. I was hoping for a break so you're just what the doctor ordered." Debbie's smile never failed to put her at ease and Anna's widened in return as she stepped into the office and then paused for a moment, looking around cautiously. There were padds everywhere. She'd been in this office once before-just after she'd first come aboard Reaent and Debbie had talked to her when she'd come in for her transfer physical. It had been neat as a pin then and Reaent had just been pulling out of orbit from around Risa. She walked to the indicated chair and, carefully lifting the stack of padds resting on it, transferred them to the other chair that sat in front of Debbie's desk. She gave the stack a warning look when it indicated it might go Leaning Tower of Pisa on her but then it seemed to find its comfort level and didn't embarrass her by crashing to the floor. "I don't think my visit can be considered any kind of tonic, Dr. Matthews--and I'm sure my timing could be better, but ever since the Captain and Commander Ridire, as well as Jon Shamor were injured, I've been wanting to see you and ask you if it might be possible for me to receive some type of emergency medical training." Anna leaned forward before Debbie could respond, her hands resting on the edge of the desk. "I can't even comprehend how busy you are and have been for weeks now but it's just that I felt so useless and I realize that their injuries were so severe only an actual physician could have helped them but there should have been something I could have done initially..." Her voice trailing off, Anna sat back and wondered if it was even appropriate for her to be here right now and then quietly added, "I would be happy to work with anyone after my duty shift was finished for the day and on those days when I'm not scheduled for any shift at all." She met Debbie's gaze. "Once I got up from being tossed out of my seat, I realized they were all hurt but I just stood there. Jon was in so much pain, they all were and I just wanted so badly to be able to help them in some way until the real help arrived." "Pardon me," laughed Debbie, dropping her stylus onto the desk. "Allow me a minute to pick up my teeth." She leaned back in her chair and smiled at her guest.. "It's unusual for someone from another department to come in and actually ask for medical training, even cursory medical training." She stood and walked to the small replicator tucked into an alcove on the far side of the room. "It's refreshing to have someone come in here and ask for training. I usually hear complaints about how long it took the med team to respond....that sort of thing. For once, somebody wants to be proactive and actually help out." Anna smiled with bewilderment at Debbie's reaction, watching her walk across the office to the replicator. She couldn't imagine that anyone in their right mind would complain about the stellar job that Reaent's Medical department always seemed to do. "I haven't checked with Dr. Smith yet, but since it will only be on my own time and considering his own background, I don't think it will be a problem. I know you've all been run off your feet down here..." She gave the stacks of padds on the chair next to her a sideways glance and then turned back to Debbie. "...but when do you think I might get started?" Debbie glanced at the science officer and grinned. "I'm sure Brian won't mind. He'll probably be relieved someone else on the bridge has some basic medical knowledge. Just let me know when you're available and I'll make the arrangements," she replied turning her attention back to the replicator. After ordering a hot chocolate, she looked at Anna questioningly. "Would you like something?" Anna shook her head with a smile, answering, "No, thank you." Even though Debbie was clearly swamped, she didn't make her feel like she was imposing on her time or asking something unreasonable. Quite the reverse, in fact. "I'm off today and tomorrow and I'll make sure you have a copy of my duty schedule going forward. I don't want to be an inconvenience or be in anyone's way so I understand if things are still too hectic. You just tell me when it might be possible." Anna leaned forward in her seat, looking earnestly at Debbie. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Dr. Matthews. It means a lot to me." Deb moved back to her desk, still a little stunned by how anxious Anna was to begin her medical training. But the CMO wasn't about to complain. She wished more of the crew would take such an interest. "Why don't you report at 0800 tomorrow," she suggested, taking her seat. "I'm pretty sure we can complete a basic course of training in a five or six days." She took a sip from her cup and then smiled at Anna. "And I'm the one who should be thanking you. So please don't feel like you're imposing." Relieved that her request had been received so well and excited at the thought that she could begin the next day, Anna beamed Debbie a smile, and quickly got to her feet. "I've taken enough of your time, and it's not lost on me how busy you are," she stated, motioning to the waiting stack of padds as she walked to the door. She turned to look back over her shoulder before leaving, a grin starting to spread, although she was only half-joking, "Please don't say thank you until we see how the training goes. Reaent faces enough danger on a daily basis from the outside--I don't want to be responsible for raising the threat level any higher."

Forty-five minutes since the mining. Lateral sensors recorded no detonation. So far. The mines were a risk to this area of space, empty as it was. Nothing nearby but the Villandro Nebula, its beautiful swirling of reds and golds behind them now. No M Class planets nearby. That had been a factor when the Captain had ordered crew to abandon ship. The closest possibility was an L Class planet 8.24 light years away. Not really a possibility at all when you got right down to it—and they had. But then, Excalibur. From out of nowhere. Well, not really. She had simply been following her own course, been about her own business and it had intersected with Reaent's. And six Warbirds. Serendipity? A very happy accident. Cinniúint as her grandmother would say in the clan tongue. Fate or Destiny. Call it what you will but now the two ships were inextricably linked as far as Anna was concerned. They owed a debt to Excalibur. Akira class but also Avenging Angel to her way of thinking. She hoped they would one day pay their debt. She watched the lateral sensors, almost willing them to show no detonation. Fifty-three minutes since deployment. Still quiet. She continued drinking her tea. The mines were a risk to more than this area of space; the wormhole terminus opened into the Chaltok system in the Beta Quadrant—Romulan space. It was hoped that the mines would be a deterrent that would keep the Romulans from using the wormhole as a backdoor into the Gamma Quadrant. A deterrent that would last long enough for Federation forces to reach the area and seal the wormhole so that no obscurely created and modified drone could activate it. They would have to be careful. The weakened fabric of subspace in this area would be, could be very tricky. If the Romulans were clever, and the Romulans were always clever, they might find a way around the mines but she hoped not. They were set for resonancy detonation—if a ship powered by a forced quantum singularity came anywhere near them, the mines would go off and probably take the ship with it. The explosion of a quantum singularity drive with its micro black hole in a weakened area of subspace held the possibility of ripping a great big hole in the fabric of subspace. Romulan sensors would be able to read the mines—they weren't cloaked. They were meant to be seen. She hoped the Federation would hurry. Shifting in her seat, Anna leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. An entire hour had now passed with the wormhole and its lethal doormat further behind with every passing second. You couldn't live every moment waiting for the other shoe to drop; she wasn't built that way. Easier to look forward than to look back. Except in this case...Proxima still lay behind them. USS Proxima NCC-61952, Nebula Class, lost almost twenty years ago in the Gamma Quadrant, the seven-hundred and fifty which called her home presumed to have died at that time. There was no evidence that they survived whatever happened to Proxima which had somehow ended up buried inside an asteroid and in the Beta Quadrant. The scans taken before entering the wormhole showed her warp core gone and her life pods...also gone. Probably launched on the Gamma side of things in an area where the nearest planet their sensors would have homed in on was an L Class, 8.24 light years away. No Excalibur or any other friend to come to the rescue. No chance at all. The lonely end of the Proximians would remain conjecture; whatever logs still existed were probably aboard the ill-fated ship whose transponder signal had called them across the Neutral Zone, the Beta Quadrant and through a wormhole into the Gamma Quadrant. Where they were now limping their way to someplace to make repairs, to the ship and to the crew. So many fatalities and so many injured. Anna rechecked the lateral sensors and supposed this mission would be termed a success. They had found Proxima, but not destroyed her. They had discovered the wormhole before the Romulans could truly utilize it, at least from what they could tell, but they hadn't been able to definitively seal it. How did you measure success? They would hold a memorial service for their dead and the living outnumbered them. That was a grim yardstick, she thought and pulled up Ha'Vorante in the Fleet database. Home of the Vorta, the Captain had said it was their next stop. She wondered how he and Commander Ridire were doing down in Sickbay. She wondered how Commander Swan was. She wondered if Jon Shamor would walk again. This was the end of her first mission on Reaent. She wondered when the first adjective that came to mind to describe it would cease to be 'bloodbath'.

After the meeting in the Observation Lounge, Anna made her way down to Deck 6 and Science Lab 2, still feeling shell-shocked. Debbie’s casualty report and Aaron’s breakdown of the damage painted a picture much worse than she’d suspected. It hadn’t been easy to sit through and she’d been left with a feeling of helplessness. Fatalities were high and the number of injured was vast. It might have been quicker if the Engineering report had simply listed what was still working. Actually, it sounded like Reaent was currently beyond their ability to repair her. Captain Michaels said they were headed to the planet Ha'Vorante-home of the Vorta. Genetically engineered by the Founders, they were truly alien. She looked forward to seeing their home and hoped an opportunity to meet the people themselves would present itself. But, before they could do a Vorta meet and greet, she had her own job to do. She loaded the gravimetric mine specs from the padd handed out at the meeting and looked thoughtfully at the screen. Captain Corizon’s generosity was going to be very helpful. The explosive yield of these mines was much greater than the tiny self-replicating mines used at DS9. Captain Michaels wanted her to design a grid based on DS9’s use of the self-replicating mines but these mines wouldn’t self-replicate and...they wouldn’t need to. She pulled up the wormhole scans, and once again noted the magneton surge that occurred right before it opened and Reaent was swallowed. They’d picked up the dead probe on their scans and had been able to retrieve it later, once on the other side of the terminus, in the Gamma Quadrant. The Bajoran wormhole always evidenced its opening with an elevated neutrino level. Not this one. It showed magnetons... Frowning, Anna rechecked the data forwarded to her by Jon. He’d confirmed the Romulans had modified the drone and that the remote control device was still intact. He also indicated that the power source could be recharged. She tapped him a response and asked if he thought it possible that the drone might be used to direct a magneton beam as a trigger and with reverse engineering would they be able to modify it themselves? Engineering had so much on their plate right now, and Aaron also had to come up with a way to launch the mines, but this drone had something to do with the wormhole operation and they needed to know what it did and how it did it. They needed to be able to open it at will. But for now...mine grid. The nice thing about the Romulan ships is that they weren’t powered by a matter/anti-matter reaction. No, they used a quantum singularity—a mini black hole. The wormhole was stable but it had formed because of instability in sub-space. A very small tear or perhaps nothing so much as a thinning of the sub-space fabric. A very convenient anomaly if you happened upon it and had a device that could take advantage of it. And also a very unstable anomaly if a quantum singularity were to be exploded in its midst. Something like that could rip apart the Chaltok system and beyond. It could also seal the wormhole for good—much more efficiently than an expelled warp core would. The Romulans would have to think twice before risking the destruction of their own area of space. Anna tapped the screen and requested the computer design several mine grids based on all available information. While it worked she brought up the scans of the Proxima captured right before Reaent had taken that thirty second ride to the Gamma Quadrant. She felt strangely haunted by this ship. There were many stories of lost crews and ships in Academy History lessons and the truth was that she’d probably dozed through quite a few of them. But Proxima was different. She’d heard and tracked the transponder signal through subspace. She’d made the mistake of looking through the crew files. Missing ten years. The Romulans had either found that asteroid on the other side and scanned it and towed it through, or they’d somehow activated that wormhole and it had come tumbling through to them. Either way...they couldn’t keep her. The scans showed a few things; no warp core and no life pods. Her theory that the weakening in the wormhole area of subspace was caused by isolytic weapons fire could be born out by the absence of the warp core. An isolytic weapon created a tear in subspace that homed in on a ship’s warp core. If such a weapon had attacked Proxima, it was possible that Proxima had ejected the core hoping the resulting explosion would seal the tear. It didn’t always work. The missing life pods? The crew forced to abandon ship? Reaent had almost been forced to do the same thing in the same area of space and only the Excalibur’s miraculously timely arrival had prevented it. The nearest planet that offered the remotest chance of survival was an L class planet 8.24 light years away. Not really a chance at all... The computer’s cheerful chirp announced that there were mine grids to examine the pros and cons of and she thought that one of the models had real merit. She sent the grid model that seemed to offer the greatest level of deterrent to the command staff. She didn’t know how long it would take the Federation to send a taskforce to do the job of destabilizing and sealing. They had a finite amount of mines and a very small amount of time to drop those mines and get away. She also didn’t know what the Captain had in mind for the Proxima and how much time it would take to destroy her. She was hoping there might be enough time to retrieve the ship’s logs-they had her command codes. Maybe the final chapter for Proxima didn’t have to be her destruction. Her crew deserved to have their story known. They already knew it didn’t end well, but their families should have the truth. Proxima might still be able to tell that truth.

Happy Birthday, Eagle :P Hope this next year is wonderful.

They were still alive! Anna assumed that as time went on she would cease to be surprised. She continued monitoring sensors and organizing her thoughts while beginning the process of trying to interpret scans taken before and during Reaent’s trip through the wormhole. So much had happened so quickly. It was a brilliant plan, very audacious, and in the excitement, she let the reason for hiding in the shadow of the gas giant planet and courting death from radiation poisoning, slip to the back of her mind: the Proxima. Her signal was so near. And yet so far. Just beyond the huge rogue asteroid; just out of sensor range. Reaent had to get close enough to finally find out what had called them across the Neutral Zone and into this very dangerous and entirely too crowded area of Romulan Space. Four Romulan Warbirds, seven science vessels and four support craft were gathered near the huge asteroid and in the vicinity of Proxima’s signal. And there was something else-sensors reported a heavy concentration of magneton particles and an open wormhole, where, according to data on file, admittedly old and God only knew how it had been obtained, no wormhole existed. And so the plan: A Distraction. Reaent’s fighters launched, cockpits empty, their virtual pilots safe on the holodeck, exploding from warp right into the midst of the Romulan ships. The fighters immediately engaged the Warbirds, slipping in and around the support and science ships, and once the Warbirds were firing back, jumped to warp. And the Warbirds followed, taking the bait and leaving the four support and seven science vessels. The first part of the plan was working. No one had time to be surprised. Wim Murray launched 2 probes into the wormhole; a Class 4 to try and get as much immediate information as possible and a Class 8 in the hope of ascertaining if the wormhole’s transkinetic vector might reveal where the wormhole terminated. As soon as the Warbirds followed Reaent’s remote controlled fighters into warp, the Reaent, with Jon Shamor at Helm, and already disengaged from orbit around the gas giant, went to warp and seconds later dropped into the same area of space previously occupied by the Warbirds. She and Brian Smith began immediate scanning and monitoring the telemetry of the two probes. The Class 4 had performed like a champ but the Class 8, after responding initially, failed. The Rom science ships sent out distress calls and began firing on Reaent. Reaent’s shields held and in turn, the order was given to fire on the gigantic asteroid. Everyone on the Bridge had been stunned when instead of breaking the huge rock into pieces, it was revealed to be some kind of hollow docking facility and inside of it...a Nebula Class starship. Proxima. So much happened in such a short time but for her, that moment stood still, even as Reaent shook with the force of the attack as all of the science and support ships turned their combined firepower onto her. She had spent so much time, too much time, studying Proxima’s manifest and speculating about what might have happened to her crew, that to see the ship in one piece took her breath away and caused her to lose focus. It almost felt like a physical blow when Commander Ridire ordered the Nebula Class ship destroyed, and yet there was no recourse. At the same time, the remote fighters, almost out of receiving distance, finished with a kamikaze run against the Warbirds. The remaining Warbirds turned back, answering the distress calls of the Rom Science vessels. With only sixty seconds ETA on the Warbirds, Captain Michaels ordered immediate evacuation of the area but...Reaent wouldn’t respond. The ship was positioned over a double line of some sort of marker buoys that were transmitting an algorithm over and over that the computer couldn’t interpret. It became crystal clear what those buoys were for when the wormhole suddenly activated and Reaent was swallowed. The wormhole appeared to be an artificial construct. This surmise seemed reasonable based on the dead in the water drone and the over saturation of magneton particles recorded by their Class 4 probe on its way in. The Fleet database contained a reference to an experiment done in 2372 by a member of the Trill Science Ministry. That experiment created a wormhole that lasted 23.4 seconds before collapsing and blowing everything around it to hell when the shields of a Class 4 probe, sent in to mimic an interstellar spacecraft, interacted with the tetryon field. The Romulans appeared to have found a way to stabilize the field. Hopefully, the scans picked up enough data that the computer could create a model that would be able to duplicate the effect. And now, here they were, in the Gamma Quadrant. Two months travel from the Idran system, home of the Bajoran wormhole. It was incredibly exciting! Naturally, she was keeping that thought to herself. The rest of the crew seemed to take everything in stride and exhibited a kind of grim, world-weary ‘We’ve looked Death in the eye and told him to go screw himself but we’re sure he’s coming back’ attitude. They had all seen so much and this was her first mission. She somehow sensed they would look askance if she mentioned how thrilled she was to have survived a trespass across the Neutral Zone, a cruise through Romulan space and a trip through an artificially created wormhole. She sort of got the feeling it was nothing too out of the ordinary. All in a day's work for Reaent. Jon Shamor’s comment that the Romulan's ability to open a wormhole at will was something to be seriously worried about reminded her that the ramifications of having survived the wormhole trip were greater than her joy at having lived to tell the tale. She had no trouble recognizing the serious threat to Federation Security, but the sensors in front of her dazzled with data from the nearby Valladro Nebula and while the computer was analyzing, she basked.

So far, so good. So far, they'd managed to get across the Neutral Zone into Romulan space and were almost within sensor range of the area from which Proxima's transponder signal was emanating. The good part was they still hadn't caused a diplomatic incident and were still alive. Anna mentally reprioritized that last bit of random thinking and placed the crew's well being ahead of diplomacy. She didn't feel like thinking big picture right now. Lateral and long-range sensors, programmed to pick up any anomalous readings, which might be the signature of a cloaked ship, were quiet. Of course, the sensors could only pick up anomalous readings if the Romulan ship had gotten sloppy and its nullifier coil was out of whack as it traveled over Warp 6. Yeah, it was a long shot but the sensors were picking up everything else, too. This region of space hadn't been sensor mapped by a Federation ship in years. At least according to the database. Reaent's stellar cartography sensors, working in tandem with the navigational sensors were making adjustments to the data base. Location and size of stars, planets, anomalies, gravimetric distortions, and background radiation were being recorded with details regarding their position, rotations and direction, as well as links to other celestial bodies, which would have an effect on them. She'd give a lot to see the Bassen Rift-the dense nebula had only a very brief mention in the data base, but she doubted they'd be getting anywhere close since it was between Romulus and the Neutral Zone. It’s a heady feeling to see first hand that which is forbidden. It could be that no other Federation ship would ever have need of this information. It could be that it would be vital to Reaent if they had to turn and run for it. It could be all for naught, but she didn't feel that way. If not for Proxima calling, a ghost from the not so distant past, they wouldn't be here. They'd never have risked so much unless the stakes were so high: the fate of the seven hundred and fifty, presumed lost and given up for dead in the Gamma Quadrant. And now in the Beta Quadrant? What strange twist had the transponder signaling from the middle of the Romulan Star Empire? Reaent had crossed the Neutral Zone into Romulan Space through the Hyralan Sector where they'd gone to Warp. They were now headed for the Chaltok System. There were seven planets in the system and the fourth planet, called Chaltok IV was designated Class M. It was from Chaltok IV's coordinates that the Proxima signal seemed to be coming. Soon they would be close enough to ascertain if the ship was whole or in pieces. If any of the crew were still with it or if surviving log entries might answer what had become of them. Anna didn't want to dwell on the missing crew anymore than she already had. She turned her attention to Chaltok IV, which had its place in history. In the 2260's it had once housed a Romulan research station dedicated to the study of polaric energy. Anna wasn't surprised to read that it had almost been destroyed in a polaric energy explosion. Polaric ion energy was highly volatile. Polaric ions were capable of generating power on a large scale but polaric ion devices were prone to subspace chain reactions and such a reaction had the potential of devastating an entire planet, vaporizing all life within a matter of seconds. Polaric ion explosions left behind high levels of polaric radiation as well as subspace fractures persisting for hours after the event. The explosion on Chaltok IV had led to the signing of the Polaric Test Ban Treaty of 2268. But, Anna thoughtfully noted, the planet hadn't been destroyed. It was still a Class M and though it didn't look to be any garden spot, there wouldn't be any residual radiation effects. They would have only lasted for a day or two. Chaltok IV could support life. She sent the Chaltok data to Brian's workstation and stood from her own, excusing herself to get a cup of tea. Within the hour they should know...something. Good or bad, they would have some answers and her mind could tell her that they would most likely find a piece of space junk doing what it had been programmed to do, but she knew, realizing it was ridiculously, naively optimistic, that in her heart of hearts, she longed for that first scan to read life signs on an intact starship or planet surface. She paused behind the Command seating on her way for the tea and looked out the view screen as the stars warped by, and thought again as she had thought so often these past few days, Proxima, we are coming for you.

Twenty-three minutes till they reached the transponder signal which called Reaent across the Neutral Zone and into Romulan space. Not a cry for help; just an automated 'Hey there' traveling over sub-space receivers. Nothing to suggest there was intelligence at work except there had been nothing and now there was the endlessly repeating unique prefix code assigned to the U.S.S. Proxima NCC-61952, a Nebula Class believed lost in the Gamma Quadrant during the Dominion War with crew numbering seven hundred and fifty. Anna had looked at the crew manifest. More than once. She felt a little haunted by their faces. Well, maybe more than a little haunted. The ship had been missing a long time and was presumed lost. And now, the signal. Coming from Romulan space. A problem, that. The Treaty of Algeron was very clear-STAY OUT. A treaty by definition was An agreement so made; specifically, an agreement, league, or contract between two or more nations or sovereigns, formally signed by commissioners properly authorized, and solemnly ratified by the several sovereigns, or the supreme power of each state; an agreement between two or more independent states; as, a treaty of peace; a treaty of alliance. A treaty of Peace, a treaty of Alliance. Anna didn't think either of those phrases very suitable for describing the Treaty of Algeron. Truth be told, she'd never thought much about it and to be very honest had missed more than her fair share of PolySci classes while in the Academy to get in more lab time. She was not a political creature by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd taken a little more interest in the past few days, for obvious reasons. A clear tenet of the Algeron treaty held that to cross into the Neutral Zone, by either Federation or Romulan forces was an Act of War. She'd checked the Fed database and had discovered something very interesting. The Romulans were ahead in transgressions by one: Romulans: 6 Federation: 5 Stardate 41986.0, by the Romulans Stardate 42609.1, by the Romulans and the Federation Stardate 43349.2, by the Romulans Stardate 43462.5, by the Romulans and the Federation Stardate 44390.1, by the Romulans and the Federation Stardate 45245.8, by the Romulans Stardate 47457.1, by the Federation Stardate 50975.2, by the Federation There was nothing in the database mentioning that punitive measures had been the result to either side. Certainly no war had broken out-although she assumed there'd been some ruffled feathers...saber rattling might be more appropriate, perhaps. Maybe the Captain could claim he was just trying to maintain parity in the interest of stabilizing diplomatic relations. If they were boarded perhaps that could be interjected before they were all shot with disruptors. She'd looked over at her Chief, Lieutenant Commander Doctor Brian Smith (And how intimidating was that? She still couldn't decide which title to call him by) and was about to ask him what he thought when he mentioned he was just coming back from a bout of Arabian Turtle Flu, which sounded very serious. The poor man. Then there'd immediately been that scare when the two Valdore Warbirds started actively scanning but they'd moved off and Reaent had been able to move away and go to Warp 4. Thank goodness the power was restored. Commander Von Scherer and the rest of Engineering had gotten power back on amazingly quickly. Crossing the Neutral Zone had been a terrific power drain and Ship's systems failed spectacularly between the electronic countermeasures and the holo matrix that permitted Reaent to masquerade as a rogue asteroid, with the fighters also disguised as smaller, satellite asteroids if you will, (and you would have, too, since the Captain nixed the use of Jon Shamor's nifty personal cloaking device). Apparently, you couldn't use a cloaking device if you were Federation. Anna thought that seemed very one-sided. She had a very well-developed sense of justice and fair play and never felt overly bound by any restrictions that seemed unreasonable or lacked common sense. The Romulan's cloak technology utilized a manufactured quantum singularity. It was, she supposed, their intellectual property. What about cloaking technology that wasn't based on Romulan Technology? She'd been fascinated to find that Jon Shamor had some sort of personal cloaking device that could possibly have been adjusted to cloak a fighter. The Captain had refused to allow its use because it would have been obvious once the Romulans boarded that the Reaent wasn't just having navigation problems-no plausible deniability, and this could of course lead to them being shot with disruptors. Odd, how every scenario seemed to lead back to that. Seventeen minutes...

Everyone's probably already seen this but for being only a few seconds long it gave me such a feeling of anticipation. I can't wait :D Startrekmovie.com

Aww, I thought it was a clever play on the (incredibly brief) trailer's subject matter. ;-)

Ear candling gone tragically wrong.

No bedroom--he put in a Transporter Room instead. Maybe if it worked... He's like Fox Mulder--no bedroom. Of course, Fox was just a TV character. ::repeats that 3 times so she keeps remembering:: I think this is a Cautionary Tale :-) A warning along the lines of 'There but for the grace of God...and a few extra bucks'

Aye, there was, at least for my first couple of months. It was still a very fun sim, though. I'm all nostalgic for it now.

I'd forgotten what DSD1 looked like. That's when the Delta Quadrant was a really lonely place and it was whispered that the Command Staff was cursed (They disappeared with alarming frequency). So nice to see it again.

=/\= Starfleet Personnel Biography =/\= Name: Annabelle Jane O'Halloran Species: Human Birth Place: Kilo Station-Alpha Quadrant Gender: Female Status: Single Height: 5' 7" Weight: 135 lbs Age: 24 Hair: Black-shoulder length Eyes: Blue Identifier: Clan mark for female child tattooed at base of skull and obscured in hairline. Career: 200806.03 Graduated from Starfleet Academy 200807.15 Posted to the USS Reaent NCC-3345-G as an assistant science officer 200811.13 Promoted to Lieutenant-Junior Grade 200904.30 Promoted to Lieutenant 200906.11 Promoted to Chief of Science 201003.11 Promoted to First Lieutenant Education: Attended Kilo Station primary and secondary academies where an emphasis was placed on hard science and economics. Chose to leave Kilo Station for Terra in order to attend Starfleet Academy. Graduated the Academy with a major in Quantum Biology and a minor in Geology. She was an average student whose curiosity remains boundless. Medical History/Current Health Currently in excellent physical condition and up to date with all necessary inoculations. Current Psychological: Recent evaluation shows subject to be well adjusted and highly motivated. She shows a healthy respect for authority and an aptitude for integrated teamwork. Used to working within a hierarchy, she enjoys structure and will strive to maintain working relationships. Fierce loyalty, the result of a clannish upbringing, plays a very strong role in her interpersonal relationships. Wary of close relationships outside of her family, and indeed some within it, Ensign O'Halloran, once her trust is given, is almost blindly loyal. Interests: Apprenticing at an early age into the family business of crafting edged weapons, Anna is a journeyman knife maker and an accomplished gold and silver smith who enjoys working with precious and semi-precious stones. Raised in an atmosphere steeped in cultural tradition, she has long been fascinated with the folk tales and legends she was told as a child. As a young adult she was struck by the fact that many other cultures have stories that have survived through oral retelling and follow the same themes. She collects these stories and is a voracious reader of most anything that won’t improve her mind. She’s also a keen camper and loves to hike and is not bothered by the fact that she has no sense of direction. The shortest distance between 2 objects is rarely the most interesting unless it leads to the dessert table. Family: Anna is the fourth child of Edmond Timothy and Aileen Corinne O'Halloran. She has 3 older brothers and a younger brother as well as a very large, extended family. The O’Halloran family belongs to an artisan’s guild called Whelan Ltd. and lists Kilo Station, a star base situated in the Purgatory System, as their permanent address. The family also holds shares in Wolf Freight Forwarding, a subsidiary of Whelan Ltd. which is the registered owner of several freighters that travel the Alpha Quadrant along what appears to be an interstellar trade circuit. Family Background: Historical (not part of Starfleet record) Anna’s family is descended from some of the first Terran colonists to venture into space. A colony made up of rural Irish farmers and fishermen, they left a planet that was still recovering from the post atomic horrors of the 21st century for 'greener pastures'. Unfortunately the young colony foundered on its new Class M home and was almost wiped out by sickness while awaiting Starfleet’s annual check in and re-supply. They were rescued by a Bolian reconnaissance ship and eventually found their way to the star base called Kilo (Kai*lo) Station. Starfleet, upon its return to the colony, found no trace of the missing colonists other than the buried dead. Kilo Station is a bastion of free trade that lies at a galactic crossroads, located in the Purgatory System. It's over 400 years old and is situated along a trade route through the Alpha Quadrant, occupying space in an area that recognizes no species as sovereign. Finding themselves marooned in a place where fishing and farming were not skills that translated into making a living, the surviving eight families of the Dóchas úr (New Hope) colony turned their skills at working textiles and steel into profit. They made a niche position for themselves in Kilo's trade hierarchy by hand crafting edged weapons and exquisitely decorated fabric. The decision was made to form their own community within that of Kilo Station's alien population and govern it by Clan law, with each of the eight families sitting a member on the Council that would in turn elect one Chief. The first Chief was Sean Whelan and the Clan name still remains the same. Families retain the use of their own surnames but are bound together as Clan Whelan or Clann ó Faoláin, the Wolf Clan.

It was a lot of fun when the ambassadors left the Council Chamber and went on a junket. ::recalls a particular Fed Council sim where Ambassador Joy Eight, wearing the beatnik ensemble from Funny Face wielded her guitar with good effect when trying to stave off an influx of MIB:: And I would have to pick Risa. There's nothing quite so much fun as being the Risan Ambassador.

Join the club. Oh, wait...you recently did just that. Welcome to STSF, Marika :P

-This log takes place before Red Alert and Lt. Hilee's visit to SciLab. Anna eased back in her chair, allowing it to tip back just far enough to feel dangerous, her eyes scanning the results of the most recent seismograms captured by Manticore's scanners from Negen Prime. Negen's Bureau of Geology and Mineral Resources had made all current and archival data references to neotectonic activity available and those had been uploaded along with the recent seismograms to form a predictive model. Not that seismology was ever what you could really call predictable but the computer should be able to clearly show if any geological after effects from the attack could be expected. She'd already run a similar one for the meteorological. The computer's chirp had her slamming her chair back in the upright position while relegating the seismogram data to a subfolder with reckless abandon as she queued up the finished model. Tapping quickly past the introduction that explained the parameters used, she set the report to slowly scroll and leaned in to read, activating a PADD to take notes. She had to get the results to Ceannasaí Escher as soon as possible. Anna paused the report and lifted her eyes to look across the lab to the clear aluminum...pen? It was very large. She glanced over at Ian who was busy working on his own analysis and decided not to ask about the pen again. Giant spiders, cryptic references to sealed data. So far, Ian engendered more questions than he answered. With a last suspicious look at the clear conundrum in the corner she turned her attention back to the model. *** "Science Officer's Log," Anna typed to the PADD, mindful of Ian's close proximity and not wanting to disturb him with a verbal entry. She added the time/date stamp and continued tapping. "Recent evaluation of the geological and meteorological impact to Negen Prime stemming from the anonymous attack of Star Date 50806.08 has not resulted in any permanent damage to either the planet's crust or atmosphere. There was a notable spike in activity registered by the planet's seismographic sensors but subsequent scans by the Manticore and an in depth analysis of current plate tectonics do not indicate that any seismological event will be forthcoming. There was an incredible amount of silicate liquefaction at impact sites and the material has been shown to be made up of the normal mineral content of the region. The apparatus of this phenomenon has still not been conclusively determined but the signature would almost have to be that of a very specific type of generated and intensely focused energy." The kind found in Federation weapon design. Anna stopped typing and again felt that feeling of unreality slip over her that she'd been struggling against since coming aboard just 12 hours ago. So many on the planet below lay dead, so many more injured; horribly and agonizingly by radiation burns. Or their lives crushed as their homes came down around them. In her mind's eye she saw the shocking images of suffering and devastation that the Away Teams had uploaded. There was that smell when you walked by Sickbay and the doors opened... Anna pushed the thoughts away. They weren't helping and she had to finish this for the Príomh. "Negen's atmosphere was not permanently damaged although there were significantly increased NO [nitrogen oxide] levels recorded which are still dissipating. Hypervelocity shock waves are partially responsible but ground scan analysis indicates that at least one of the strikes hit a body of salt water and the resulting steam of carbonate rich vapor was hurled into the stratosphere. Prevailing winds have weakened the NO concentration to the point that there will be no residual acid rain." It was the work of a few seconds to upload the duty log to Escher's attention. Anna found herself staring at the blinking yellow bar that signified yellow alert. The impulse engines had switched over to warp drive which meant they'd left Negen behind. She wondered if the civilians had been transferred off the ship from Medical. She wondered how many of them would make it. Ceannasaí = Commander Príomh = Chief

=/\= Starfleet Personnel Biography =/\= Name: Annabelle Jane O'Halloran Rank: Ensign Post: Assistant Science Officer Species: Human Birth Place: Kilo Station-Alpha Quadrant Gender: Female Status: Single Height: 5' 7" Weight: 135 lbs Age: 24 Hair: Black-shoulder length Eyes: Blue Identifier: Clan mark for female child tattooed at base of skull and obscured in hairline. Career: 50306.08 Graduated from Starfleet Academy 51106.08 Posted to the USS Manticore NCC-5852-A 51507.08 Transferred to the USS Reaent NCC 3345-G Education: Attended Kilo Station primary and secondary academies where an emphasis was placed on hard science and economics. Chose to leave Kilo Station for Terra in order to attend Starfleet Academy. Graduated the Academy with a major in Quantum Biology and a minor in Geology. She was an average student whose curiosity remains boundless. Medical History/Current Health Currently in excellent physical condition and up to date with all necessary inoculations. Current Psychological: Recent evaluation shows subject to be well adjusted and highly motivated. She shows a healthy respect for authority and an aptitude for integrated teamwork. Used to working within a hierarchy, she enjoys structure and will strive to maintain working relationships. Fierce loyalty, the result of a clannish upbringing, plays a very strong role in her interpersonal relationships. Wary of close relationships outside of her family, and indeed some within it, Ensign O'Halloran, once her trust is given, is almost blindly loyal. Interests: Apprenticing at an early age into the family business of crafting edged weapons, Anna is a journeyman knife maker and an accomplished gold and silver smith who enjoys working with precious and semi-precious stones. Raised in an atmosphere steeped in cultural tradition, she has long been fascinated with the folk tales and legends she was told as a child. As a young adult she was struck by the fact that many other cultures have stories that have survived through oral retelling and follow the same themes. She collects these stories and is a voracious reader of most anything that won’t improve her mind. She’s also a keen camper and loves to hike and is not bothered by the fact that she has no sense of direction. The shortest distance between 2 objects is rarely the most interesting unless it leads to the dessert table. Family: Anna is the fourth child of Edmond Timothy and Aileen Corinne O'Halloran. She has 3 older brothers and a younger brother as well as a very large, extended family. The O’Halloran family belongs to an artisan’s guild called Whelan Ltd. and lists Kilo Station, a star base situated in the Purgatory System, as their permanent address. The family also holds shares in Wolf Freight Forwarding, a subsidiary of Whelan Ltd. which is the registered owner of several freighters that travel the Alpha Quadrant along what appears to be an interstellar trade circuit. Family Background: Historical (not part of Starfleet record) Anna’s family is descended from some of the first Terran colonists to venture into space. A colony made up of rural Irish farmers and fishermen, they left a planet that was still recovering from the post atomic horrors of the 21st century for 'greener pastures'. Unfortunately the young colony foundered on its new Class M home and was almost wiped out by sickness while awaiting Starfleet’s annual check in and re-supply. They were rescued by a Bolian reconnaissance ship and eventually found their way to the star base called Kilo (Kai*lo) Station. Starfleet, upon its return to the colony, found no trace of the missing colonists other than the buried dead. Kilo Station is a bastion of free trade that lies at a galactic crossroads, located in the Purgatory System. It's over 400 years old and is situated along a trade route through the Alpha Quadrant, occupying space in an area that recognizes no species as sovereign. Finding themselves marooned in a place where fishing and farming were not skills that translated into making a living, the surviving eight families of the Dóchas úr (New Hope) colony turned their skills at working textiles and steel into profit. They made a niche position for themselves in Kilo's trade hierarchy by hand crafting edged weapons and exquisitely decorated fabric. The decision was made to form their own community within that of Kilo Station's alien population and govern it by Clan law, with each of the eight families sitting a member on the Council that would in turn elect one Chief. The first Chief was Sean Whelan and the Clan name still remains the same. Families retain the use of their own surnames but are bound together as Clan Whelan or Clann ó Faoláin, the Wolf Clan.

Yea! A survey that doesn't want to know how much I pay for car insurance. Favorite Non-Trek Television Show: Current: Lost Cancelled: X-Files/Firefly Favorite Non-Trek Movie: Shadow of a Doubt Alfred Hitchcock directed Favorite Book: Riptide by Douglas Preston/Lincoln Childs. They’re better together than apart Favorite Actor: Jimmy Stewart Favorite Actress: Rosalind Russell Favorite Musician: Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers & Meat Loaf singing anything by Jim Steinman Favorite Food: Mushroom ravioli w/ alfredo sauce. Favorite Ice Cream Flavor: Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk Favorite Hero: Real: My mother Fictional: Robin Hood (Errol Flynn’s) Favorite Politician: Richard Daley – current Chicago Mayor-not his dad. Favorite Quote: "Be the change you wish to see in the world” Eleanor Roosevelt (I wish I was better at it) Favorite Occupation: Archaeologist in Egypt circa 1920 Favorite Car: I have a 2000 Toyota Celica and I will never love a car the way I love this one. Tickets and all. Favorite Vacation Spot: Road trip anywhere. For me it is the journey & not the destination. Favorite Academic Subject: Political Science as taught by Mr. Sanders in the 5th grade. Favorite Quirky Interests: Visiting supposedly ‘haunted’ sites. Mostly to make sure my sister 'the true believer' isn't alone in one creepy place after another. Chicago is riddled with them. Who would you most like to meet? My father’s father—he passed away before I was born and I understand he was quite a…character.