Brian Graham

Stewart: Your 35, single, and you've never seen Star Trek?

Interviewer: No.

Stewart: Good God...

I remember that, it was in an episode of Extras. Actually the only one I have ever seen, but it was really funny. Not just that part but really all of it.

Chief of Security’s Duty Log

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Graham Recording

USS Excalibur

Stardate 0604.01

After returning to Camelot Station after his brief stint as a pre-architect, Brian delivered the final report on the three most practical sites for concentration of colonization of the Avalon star system.

TO: Captain Sorehl, Chief of Operations, Federation Starbase Camelot

FROM: Lt. Cmdr. Brian Graham, chief of Security, Federation Starship Excalibur

RE: Possible Colonization Sites for Pending Colonization Efforts in the Avalon System

Site Alpha:

Location: Northern Continent [N: 42 30’ ; E 108 57’ ]

Geography: Mountain ranges, limited flat ground, stream systems

Weather: Cooler climate (approximately 16C), medium humidity, moderate precipitation, above average wind activity

Biology: Moderate native biological life population

Ecology: Heavily forested areas

Land Defense

Capabilities: High—rugged terrain will limit quick movement of enemy ground troops

Air Defense

Capabilities: Moderate—rugged and varied terrain would make low altitude air sorties difficult, and rock formations can be used for defensive bunkers

Remarks: The lack of flat land will limit extensive development, however this area provides above adequate opportunities for defense. Also provides excellent opportunities for back-up power options including solar, wind, and water generation if needed. Rock and forest areas make arable land less than ideal.

Site Bravo:

Location: Land Mass Echo 2 [ N: 15 5’ ; W: 31 14’ ]

Geography: Mostly flat shoreline, beaches bordering a salt water sea. Open flat areas past coastline

Weather: Temperate (approximately 26C), above average humidity, above average precipitation, moderate wind activity

Biology: Consists mostly of marine life with populations of insect and avian life

Ecology: Extensive plant life consistent with the naturally well-irrigated landscape

Land Defense

Capabilities: Low—lack of natural barriers requires development to repel ground assaults

Air Defense

Capabilities: Low—area susceptible to both low altitude and high altitude air attack

Remarks: Construction in this area would be easier than Site Alpha. Lack of natural land formations would not limit construction, and arable land in this area is extensive. Defensively, extensive preparation would be required to defend this site from any attack. On a psychological side, this may the best choice for a shore-leave location.

Site Charlie:

Location: Northern Continent [N: 59 29’ ; W: 135 44’ ]

Geography: Moderately flat landscape with several geological formations, siold highly rocky

Weather: Below average temperature (approximately 1C), low humidity levels, below average liquid precipitation, mostly snow, low wind activity

Biology: Extremely limited animal, avian, and insect life

Ecology: Extremely limited ecological life

Land Defense

Capabilities: Above average—limited natural defense formations, however adverse climate requires extensive logistical support to mount any extensive campaign

Air Defense

Capabilities: Low—lack of natural defense formations leaves area susceptible to low and high altitude threats

Remarks: Definitely a hardier environment. Any colonization efforts in this area would require biodome facilities for any extensive agrarian program. Otherwise, suitable for species used to colder climates.

--Conclusion of Report--

I'll never give up, I'm like a bug :lol:

Is that supposed to be some kind of joke!?

Joint Duty Log

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Graham and Ens. Segami recording

USS Excalibur

Stardate 200603.22

Atticus swung round a corner and into the open doorway, he aimed his phaser-rifle left and right, slowly pacing forwards. After a few moments of looking around the room he nodded and lowered the weapon but kept his grip on it tight.

"I think this one's all clear sir!" The Trill security officer shouted.

There was no response.

"Sir?" he called out again and just like the first time there was no reply. His heartbeat sped up a notch.

Suddenly there was a flash of movement in the darkness. Something had quickly entered the room from the alternate entrance. Atticus raised the rifle to shoulder height and placed his sights dead on target, ready to fire.

He didn't know his target was Liuetenant Commander Graham.

Brian scanned the room from his perspective. Dim, but clear. He focused his attention on the other entrance, where Ensign Segami had entered. He looked past him, seeing no intruder attempting to sneak up on Segami from behind. He did however, notice the business end of a phaser rifle being pointed at him.

He dropped his weapon from the attack stance and stood to his normal height and walked across the room toward Segami.

"Apologies, Ensign. I noticed at the last minute that there was another entrance. The last thing we need is for any intruders to get loose into a larger area."

The Trill, heaved a deep sigh of relief, changing to a relaxed stance. "Sorry sir, but you scared the daylights out of me, I thought I'd found one of those Scorpion creatures. Why'd you jump out like that Commander, knowing I was searching in here? I might have killed you."

"Simple, I trust you to have the skills to defend yourself, and to check your targets before you fire at them. There was also the possability that an intuder was in here, in which case a lone crewmember may have caused them to slip. In which case, I was covering you. That goes back to the trust thing. You're right though, clear. Let's move on."

Atticus followed the Commander out and into the hallway. They'd cleared almost every space onboard Excalibur, leading Atticus to the conclusion that the Scorpions had probably disappeared with their vessel, taking Mr. Kennin with them. This loss dragged his mind back to their own departmental losses that day.

"Those two people of ours that died..." Segami said, the words forcing themselves out, "...Idana Iot and Motaris Ron...did you know them well sir?"

Brian sighed internally. Due to the career choices he had made, his response would probably sound cold and devoid of feeling which wasn't so in reality.

"Probably not as well as I could have."

There, it was out, a short reply, telling the truth of the situation. He knew who they were, remembered their faces, reports, statistics. Iot, born on Luna, specialized in low gravity combat, obviously had experience from where she grew up, and it showed, she had been excellent in the training exercises. Ron, Benzite, smart, quick. Could calculate the needed phaser setting to take down a ship's shields, but not damage the hull in his head, -his head-. Was good at stradigama too, though Brian had never played him at it, though he had heard remarks around the department of how he creamed others at it.

He felt the loss, but at the same time, he couldn't dwell on it, not now, with so much at stake. Things like this were a cold fact out here, anywhere. People

die in Starfleet, and especially in this department, and even more especially given the combat situation they were in. Everyone is told that the first day at

the Academy, or at enlistment and were reminded practically on a weekly basis. Everyone relies on someone else on a starship, and Security is relied on to be

at the front of any attack. You have the honorable duty of protecting others,but that also almost always puts you on the firing line, and so far, Brian had

been able to use that line of reasoning to move on when something like this happens, but he cursed himself for it, and he figured everyone else cursed him for it too in some way.

Atticus was troubled by his own feelings too, he actually felt slightly indifferent to these deaths, as if they lacked importance. It wasn't malicious, he just couldn't get the thought of "her" out of his head and it overpowered all his emotions. Two people in his own department had sacrificed themselves, another crewmember had gone MIA and the only death he could mourn was Kathleen's. It was the same a couple of days earlier at the battle of Camelot. He wanted to feel bad for the right reasons so much but it was impossible. Every time Atticus thought he was over the events back on the Shanghai he was reminded at how badly they had hurt him. That was why he'd almost begged the Commander to give him a reprimand today, not really for his actions during the battle, which were standard procedure to the letter but for the thoughts inside his mind.

But like Brian Graham, Atticus Segami knew that there is a time and a place for all things and this was not the time nor place to be getting in touch with oneself. He focused on the mission at hand: To find and neutralise any remaining threat onboard Excalibur.

Brian stood off to the left of the closed doorway and brought his rifle up.

Steeling himself, he nodded to Segami, who hit the door control. He went in

moving, turning left immediately and focusing on that corner of the room,

trusting Segami had him covered.

Updated

Bonus points to anyone who finds the obscure Seinfeld quote!

PM me with your submissions...

I never show up a few hours early, but if it is pretty early I'll open a new window and look around the Internet at stuff, AIM, and sometimes talk with others who happen to be in the room as well. Though usually, I get engrossed in the Internet stuff and forget I'm in the chat room, and sometimes people talk to me and I don't realize.

So, apologies in advance folks! Now you know the real reasons for my periods of silence.

Chief of Security’s Duty Log

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Graham Recording

USS Excalibur

Stardate 200603.14

The burned out surface of the planet seemed to take up the entire window of the cockpit and was becoming more defined every second. Proximity alarms started going off and the computer reminded him that the fighter would collide with the unyielding ground in six seconds. What it didn’t tell him, it didn’t need to, he knew this part already, that there were two enemy fighters behind him, and one of them probably lining up for a positive shot right this second. That meant the computer was underestimating his and Helios’ death by five seconds. Oh well, sometimes it was better for the computer to remain ignorant.

Enough thought about that, Brian brought all power available power to the inertial dampeners so they could stay conscious as pulled the fighter out of the dive. A few seconds too late, as the dampeners didn’t compensate completely, and his stomach embedded itself in one of his toes. No matter, two explosions erupted from the surface in front and on each side of the fighter, sending up shrapnel of scorched earth which dissipated once they hit the fighter’s shields as it skimmed the ground.

Speaking of shields, Brian remembered, taking the power he had borrowed a few seconds earlier for the inertial dampeners and shunting it back to the shields. He wasn’t sure how much more protection they would really provide, as the fighter had taken a few glancing hits already, and those buggers were still behind them.

Brian weaved through the wreckage of what had been a city, the population of which had been unknown, but now definitely had settled down to zero. Hulks of buildings, some more intact than others, became obstacles to weave through. Sometimes an energy bolt shot past the fighter and impacted one, sending the last of the structure exploding into microparticles. Brian was glad they were hitting buildings, since the alternative would be unpleasant.

He wasn’t sure how long this had gone on. These things breaking off from an unidentified ship and coming after them had seemed like days ago, but Brian knew that wasn’t correct. Three minutes was probably more like it. Two of those minutes were spent chasing these guys amidst the clouds. Of course, they had come out of one cloud mass and Brian couldn’t see them. The impact registered to the shields gave the update that the attackers were in fact behind them, and after a few unsuccessful attempts to try use the same trick against them, they hadn’t fell for it. So, Brian went against all common sense and took the fight lower, down toward the deck. Naturally, this was also where the radiation was at the highest levels, so this trick was getting old too.

Heat, sweat, and slight nausea told him that maybe the radiation was too high, or that last barrel roll wasn’t a good idea. Either way, they needed altitude. Brian pitched up seventy degrees, and set the throttle to maximum, climbing as fast as mechanically possible. More energy flying past, they were still with him.

A slight drop in speed clued him in that gravity still worked on this planet. They’d break out of it at these speeds, but they still lost some of their momentum as the planet’s pull tried to compete. The fighter got a slight sustained vibration as Brian continued to tax the engines for whatever they could give.

It’s an old one, but it may work.

Old? It’s the oldest!

There’s no point in not trying it!

Forget it!!

You don’t know anything!

And you do?!

Brian’s brain seemed to argue with itself unceasingly. They were both right. Maybe gravity would slow them down enough, fast enough, and hopefully the opposing courses wouldn’t intersect, and the engines would get their speed back to normal fast enough, and they would be shot to pieces before he could put it into action. Entering another cloud mass, better get it over with. Brian hit the clouds pulled back, cut the engines, and engaged the emergency flaps, hoping to see two engine wakes shoot through the clouds past them.

YOu might be the first Andorian I have seen here, in my weeks of joining up.

I must have been keeping a lower profile than I thought for the past few YEARS.

Anyway, welcome to STSF.

And my guess is, you picked the positions that require some of the least technobabble for your characters: Security/Tactical

Yeah, there isn't really a complicated way to say "Shoot it"

If it wouldn't severely impact my grade, I would do that on every test.

Chief Security Officer’s Personal Log

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Graham Recording

USS Excalibur

Stardate 200602.28

The past few hours had been hard to describe. Suspense, terror, adrenaline, excitement, frustration, blood, smoke, sparks, noise, confusion, relief, clarity, anger, and echoes from the past coming back to reality. Most of the time one of the feelings came in, only to be thrown violently to the side by another, itself making itself the priority as certain stimuli coalesced to bring about the particular feeling. The Hundred had arrived, everyone knew it would happen sometime and anyone who didn’t suspect it at all was a fool, or had just shown up. There was no way an organization like the Hundred, with a different ideology than the dominant entity in the quadrant, possessing the military assets that it did, and no hint of bothering with the diplomatic channels, would just sit around and be content to stay in the underground, hiding in a nebulae, warping out of a system just as a loyal Dominion ship warped in, only for the chase to begin again, or walking amongst those who were bent on your elimination.

And so they came, almost a microcosm of the previous years of the Dominion War, except this time the nearest Cardassian was thousands of light years away, not counting wormholes and the theatre was on the other side of said wormhole, and, of course, this time not all the vessels with a Dominion configuration were firing on them, but there were sure enough. It had been fierce, it had been violent, it had been tense, with the moments where one thought the moment right now was your last moment of life function, and the next was nothing, and somewhere in between was an EPS overload, shrapnel, a disappearing bulkhead, or the flashpoint of a dilithium chamber. Sometimes you had a chance to think about your next move, other times thought and movement merged into an almost simultaneous motion where it was hard to imagine action could actually come before rational thought.

Every so often a sensor contact would wink out; sometimes a ship system on the display would change from yellow, to red, then to black. Sometimes, after a really hard hit, they would jump from green to red, or even green to black, that happened once. Sometimes a light would come back on, but most of them didn’t, especially as each minute elapsed.

Collision, venting atmosphere, order to clear the Bridge, access tunnel, tornado, loss, transporter, Excalibur, and finally warp trails. Then salvage: technology, parts, ships, bodies, parts of bodies, they were all out there. Soon they would be all be collected, the first three would go to the workshops or dry docks, the latter two to the sickbays, or the morgues.

The morgue ones were now here, a line of torpedo casings, each with the traditional flag with the United Federation of Planets on it. Some of them had bodies, others, just what had been recovered, some were empty, but the formality was honored regardless.

He’d counted the casings several times already, six of them held those who belonged to his department. Their records had already been updated though Brian hadn’t written the letters yet, he was going to right after this was over. There were others too, along the line and Brian had known all of them. Morningstar had been a small ship, so it was almost impossible not to have seen everyone who had served on it at some point or another. But death was something he had practically drilled into his mind. Starfleet was a dangerous place, every member of every department was at risk of every moment, and security was no difference, bloody, the whole thing revolved around carrying a weapon, it had to be dangerous, and so the fact that you were finite was a difficult thing to forget, and events like these made it even harder.

Brian stood there, amongst the crowd, not feeling much of anything, though he probably would later. That worried him. Sure the immediate, immediate danger had passed for now, but there was still things to take care of. It seemed cold, colder than an Andorian winter, to be so fixated on moving on, when they hadn’t even fired the torpedoes off yet. But the universe didn’t stop when someone died, even though it you thought it should. But it couldn’t, and they couldn’t either, even though it seemed so insulting to the dead. They couldn’t afford to get too attached, it interferes with decisions, disrupts the process, creates a pause when action is needed, that was something too dangerous to consider also.

I can’t let it get in the way, and when it’s me, I can’t let that get in the way of someone else either.

Just had a thought, how about a new angle point, but still in a Star Trekkie era. How about what life is like here on Earth? You know how Star Wars showed not just space goings-on, but battles on Earth, too? Star Trek could dedicate a series to Star Trek: Earth, and have all the nuances of what we love about Star Trek. OK, now dont say, "They already did with DS9." Its not the same! =0]

I think DS9 reported that Earth was like paradise in that time period, so it might be pretty boring. I don't think you'd see many fights, unless you wanted to do something around the third world war, or during the few hours the Breen were able to perform that raid during the Dominion War.

Though the planet idea could work, though nothing as deep in the Federation that could limit the possabilities. Possibly one of the seedier worlds like the ones O'Brien went to during his stint as an operative. Or have a series that focused on a different planet or situation each week.

Though I too would like to see them back to exploring the galaxy again.

How about something along the lines of a Federation BSG-type starship, just without the quest for the missing 13th colony? I think it's about dang time that we see carriers in Star Trek. I mean really, the entire fleet is made up of science vessels, frigates, cruisers, and dreadnoughts?

Sadly, in Star Trek, highly probable. Especially since in DS9's "Sacrifice of Angels" allowed starships, at least Cardassian Galor-classes to target and destroy fighers pretty easily.

One of the great things about "Lower Decks" I thought was how different it was with the junior staff, having to perform their duties without being able to be told all of what was going on. We're used to being in the briefing room when the senior staff is called in and this time we have to sit out and focus on the junior people, until one of them gets to go to the briefing room.

...for some weird reason I get the urge to slap the daylights out of him every time I watch it! I don't know, for a klingon he's so...whiney!

You mean the Wesely Crusher gene has crossed species?!

Dont get cocky Elgor

Hey! It sounds like someone is infringing on my specialization of inserting random Star Wars Quotes in Excalibur (Morningstar) business.

Now, we will discuss the location of the secret Rebel base.

...miracle sandwiches?

--Joint Duty Log starring Elaine Delgado with a Brian Graham cameo--

"The Yearly"

USS Morningstar

Elaine was sitting on her desk when she heard someone come in to sickbay. “I’m in here,” she called out, without looking up from what she was reading.

Turning the corner, Brian seemed a bit disarmed by the sight of her sitting like that, cross-legged on her desk, “....Uh, hello Doctor.”

She looked up and offered a warm smile, asking, “Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

It took a second for Brian to gather his thoughts again, “Ah, yes...well....," and gave up, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Doctor, if you don’t mind me asking, is there something wrong with your chair?”

“Not that I know of. I just prefer sitting on my desk,” she told him while moving off of it to stand in front of him. She added, with a smirk, “Do you have a problem with that?”

"What?,"concerned suddenly that he may have offended her, Brian quickly spoke. “No, of course not, it’s your office. I just was not expecting it, that’s all.” Changing the subject, he grumbled, “Anyway, I’m here for the annual checkup.”

Elaine nodded and moved towards the main area, hands clasped behind her back. “Ah yes, come right this way. You are quite prompt this year, actually. Highly unusual.”

“Well, I figure I’d better get it over with. What with it being regulations and all.” He moved to follow her, “Besides, I don’t think I’d be setting a good example if I were a fugitive."

“Very true.” Elaine motioned to where he could sit. “Please roll up the sleeve on you right arm and unsnap your top a bit,” she mumbled, having gone through this same routine so many times before. Turning to her tray next to the biobed and looking it over, she continued, “Alright, now for the usual questions. Any unusual pains, changes in your diet or how you feel, et cetera, et cetera?

Brian quickly complied with the rolling up of the sleeve as he sat down, and answered, “None.” That got a bit of an eye-roll from Elaine as she turned to take a sample from his arm.

“That's what they all say. Well, fine then, I won't ask silly questions like that. How have you been? I don't really get chance to talk to you about anything but work. Have you been getting enough free time?”

Thinking about what he had really been doing in his free time, what with the clandestine activities, implications with Starfleet Security and all, he attempted to think of a reply that did not mention them. “Umm, sure.” Brian was suddenly eternally grateful Elaine was not a telepath.

Elaine looked at him blankly for a moment before turning to put away the sample. “Alright, go ahead and lie down for me. That’s good, now relax.” She moved over and began pressing on his abdomen and moving his limbs around. “Try to be a little more specific. Understand that as your physician I can order you to stop putting yourself in stressful situations.” She grinned, wondering if he would actually follow an order like that.

Lying there, looking up at the ceiling, Brian mused, “That would entail me leaving the quadrant, I think.” Then adding, to chase away Elaine’s startled expression, “No, everything is fine. I am adequately balanced with work and recreation.”

She nodded again and popped him on the belly. “Okay, sit up now and I’ll give you a scan,” she said, reaching for her tricorder. “Remember that you’re a very important part of this crew, and if something happens to you it happens to everyone. So try and take care of yourself, okay?” Grinning, she added “And eat more fruit.”

Doing a double take, Brian blurted out, “What!? I eat plenty of fruit… well, most of the time... alright, alright, more fruit, got it.”

Reaching over to pinch his earlobe, she informed him, “You'll be a more vibrant blue if you eat enough fruit. And by that I mean all kinds of fruit, not just apples or something every single day.”

He realized he was busted. How did she know all he ate were apples? Listening to the tricorder and looking at his hand, he mumbled, “I don't know about 'vibrant.' Sometimes it's good to be obscure.”

With a wink Elaine agreed, “Being obscure may be good. But only if you're some sort of secret agent. Now, if you want to pick up a nice lady you're going to want to look something other than pasty.” Closing her tricorder with a snap she realized that probably did not sound very nice. “Not that you're pasty, but, uh, well, you are done here. Congratulations, you're good to go until next year.”

Brian bristled at that information of secret agent, but jumped off the table. “Excellent. Thank you, Doctor.”

"And try sounding cheerful. I know you have to be the straight-man and all, but it really would help your blood pressure if you breathed a little.” She tossed him a candy. “And you're welcome.”

Deftly catching the candy, Brian nodded at her instruction. “Yeah, yeah, duly noted.” Starting to walk out the door, he mentioned, “I'd better get going. I'm almost late for my double shift...” wondering if she would take the bait.

“Oh-ho, you think you're so funny... you just watch it there! Mmhmm you start that and I’ll…you are joking, right?”

”Yes, don't worry. For the record, I'm going to go to the holodeck, prop my feet up, and sit on a beach for a while. With your permission of course.” After she gave a permissive nod to his plans he walked out the door.

Elaine stood there for a moment, thinking about the stress that the chiefs had to go through, and how a stressed out chief might act towards their subordinates, friends, and those close to them. Rubbing her forehead and walking back to her desk she wondered how long it would be before she would not have to worry about him and others getting hurt, how long it would be before the only times she saw Brian in sickbay was for his yearly exam.

The lifeform has not shown any conclusive hostile action, so considering it a threat at this time would indeed be premature.

Keeping it aboard Morningstar will present a threat to less people if it is aboard a starship than aboard a starbase. However, Camelot's medical facilities are more extensive than Morningstar's, so transfer is probably the best idea to render aid.

Deck 27 contains all of the medical facilities, however this is also in one of the busiest areas of the station. Security should be on hand to keep non-essential personnel away from the medical area to prevent any further cases of possible contamination. Recommendation that complete quarentine of the area where the lifeform will be placed be effected. Although the threat is extremely remote, security is also on hand to prevent any hostility towards the alien by any personnel who believe it is hostile. Vigilante justice will not be tolerated. Main Security is also on Deck 27 so this should not be an issue.

The security division will give its full support in whatever is required.

Chief Security Officer’s Duty Log

Lt. Cmdr. Brian Graham Recording

USS Morningstar

Stardate 200512.15

Nuts, crazy, insane, ludicrous, ridiculous, impossible, panic, fear, anger, despair, weakness, wrath, concern, and chicken were the words used to describe Brian’s feelings and reactions after the most recent turn of events aboard the Morningstar. The last word made its way in there because Brian had been hungry at the time. Strange alien beings with strange spores that strangely lodge in ones lungs that caused strange, though very real, symptoms.

Brian sat pouring over all of the reports that cluttered his desk. Most of them were officers’ reports on scrambling to help stricken crewmembers get to Sickbay until falling prey to the spores themselves and either getting themselves or being carried to Sickbay. Some reports were of breaking up conflict as some crewmembers became panicked over their mounting symptoms, lashing out at others, all of the normal reactions that occur when you have no idea what is happening to you. Practically the entire security force had been mobilized to deal with what was going on.

Brian’s eyes stopped reading at that moment and he just stared at the opposite bulkhead for a moment, not taking his gaze away as he slowly placed the datapad on his desk. Where had he been during all of this, as crisis and havoc engulfed the ship, people in dire need of assistance, some having to be literally carried to sickbay? As tempers flared and self-preservation seemed to warrant causing a disturbance or riot, where was the Chief!?

“Sickbay,” Brian said, disgusted with his own self as he said the words. He had been one of the first to be laid out by the spores. When he should have been in the midst of things, locking down the ship, breaking up fights, carrying fallen comrades, he was fallen himself. It was a difficult thing for him, confronted so blatantly with his own weakness, completely helpless as events unfolded around him and unable to do anything about it. He would have had a valid excuse if he had been unconscious, but no, he was awake through it all.

No one had jeered him about it, but Brian did enough of that himself. His rational side told him it was not his fault, just something that went along with life in Starfleet, how no one could predict that that would happen, be glad you are still alive; and then something else kicked in, Brian wasn’t sure what it was, his own personal secret demon that ridiculed him when something occurred that was indeed out of his control, but it somehow convinced him it was his fault, he could have avoided it, done something more, overcome, but he wasn’t strong enough.

Sometimes he could banish the thoughts, but sometimes they persisted, usually at time like this when he was alone with nothing to distract him, very recently after the events, when he had the time to question everything, especially his performance.

Brian snatched up the PADD quickly, intent on banishing the forces of mental evil by countering it with work. Again immersing himself in the reports cleared the last strongholds from his mind and Brian could look at himself as a being worthy of life again (though he sincerely doubted everyone saw him that way). He dispatched four security officers, two to sickbay to guard Amun, just in case someone lost their professionalism and decided on some vigilante justice, and two to the cargo bay with Amun’s crate, mostly just as a precaution to prevent tampering. Really, Brian wasn’t sure what to do about the thing, but it seemed careless to just let the thing sit there.

Sounds alright to me.

Though you can tell those doctors that they have to draw the line of observation somewhere!

Security Officer's Classified Duty Log

Lt. Commander Brian Graham recording

USS Morningstar (Special Assignment, Starfleet Intelligence, Internal Affiars, and Starfleet Security)

Stardate 200511.21 to Stardate 200511.26

Brian had put the restraints on Garan, tied him to a chair, hit him with some sedative in the medical kit the ship had so he’d stay asleep and patched them both up as best he could. Brian wished Starfleet had given him a vessel with a brig in it, though he guessed they had expected Brian to stun Garan instead of using his phaser to incapacitate his ship. Brian contacted Jerowich on a secure frequency and updated him, that Garan was in custody. Jerowich had dispatched a team to the planet to clean up Garan’s wrecked vessel. Brian took off and headed for Deep Space Nine.

Jerowich was waiting inside the airlock, flanked by two security guards as Brian led Garan out of the ship.

“Take him to the Hood gentlemen. Inform Captain DeSoto I’ll be along momentarily,” Jerowich ordered. One of the security guys took hold of Garan and led him down the corridor, the other guard following slightly behind, ready to react in case Garan tried anything. Jerowich brought his attention back to Brian.

“Fine job, Lieutenant Commander. Starfleet Security, Internal Affairs, and Intelligence all send their thanks.”

“Of course Commander, you’re welcome.”

Jerowich looked at the marks on Brian’s face. “Did he give you some trouble?”

“You could say that.”

“Come on, let’s get you to Sickbay,” Jerowich said, gesturing out of the airlock. Brian readily complied, hoping he could be right as rain as soon as possible.

“Leena sends her regards as well,” Jerowich remarked. “She said the next time you’re in the sector you should stop and see her again.”

“Won’t that blow her cover?” Brian asked as they entered a lift.

“Promanade,” Jerwich commanded and the lift began its ascent. “No, she’s always having men come up to talk to her. You’ll just be part of the crowd.”

“Well, I have no real reason to be in the Rakon system.”

“You could. There’s always the shady element that pass through Federation space that we’re always keeping an eye on, and we may need to bring some of them in. Can we put you on our roster to call you in if we need you? We have several officers on that list so it should be awhile before we call you. I can’t guarantee we’ll ever call you”

“I suppose.”

Jerowich nodded and made some additions to his roster. The lift stopped and both men exited and walked along the Promenade toward Sickbay.

Security Officer's Classified Duty Log

Lt. Commander Brian Graham recording

USS Morningstar (Special Assignment, Starfleet Intelligence, Internal Affiars, and Starfleet Security)

Stardate 200511.21 to Stardate 200511.26

Garan looked at his shipboard chronometer, 0402, two minutes behind schedule. No matter, he could make up the time. That blasted other Andorian had almost messed his plans up permanently. The audacity, coming after him, Garan, the Garan who had easily dispatched enemies before. He would have taken the time to get rid of one more, but he had a strict timetable to keep, Promellian rice fetched top latinum, if you could get it there before it spoiled. This load might help him buy a faster ship, meaning he could make trips like these and not have to worry about spoilage. Even those to minutes may cost him some of the rice. He’d have to try to coax more out of the engines than they normally could perform. First he had to get out of the atmosphere. Everything was looking fine, he was here, his cargo, was here, and that moron was down there. Garan reached over to retract the landing gear for flight—

And the ship lurched, smoke and sparks filled the cockpit, the cockpit seemed to flip, and almost every conceivable alarm started blaring. “What!?” Garan bellowed, thoroughly furious. His console registered heavy damage to the port side side of his vessel. Garan was going to engage the emergency stabilizing thrusters when he saw the top of the landing pad go by the cockpit view port, upwards, way faster than it should have been. And the ship jarred again, a second time, sending out more sparks from more consoles. The smoke made it hard enough to see, but his one eye was giving him trouble. Garan started reciting every profane word he knew.

Brian came out from behind the wall and looked at the scene. Garan ship was laying, broken, on the landing pad. It’s landing gear had snapped under the force of the ship landing on it without any landing thrusters to soften the force. They had been strained too much and had collapsed, probably two-dimensional by now. The port side was a mess, to say the least. The hull was still intact, for the most part, but not much else. Blackened, smoking, sparking, the phaser had definitely done its job. It had taken out two of the thrusters, and the ship didn’t have enough lift to go anywhere, except down. That’s what happened when you don’t keep your ship up to date.

Bugger, Brian thought as he saw the entry hatch. It would work great except there was a ship on top of it. There was no way to open it. Good news, it looked like Garan was trapped in there, but who knows what he had aboard. Brian got up on a crate and climbed up onto the crumpled hulk. A plasma torch may let him cut through this hull, Brian was thinking when a small explosion registered behind him. He turned and saw a square piece of metal flying away from the ship. Garan must have blown an escape hatch. Brian wished he had remembered to bring more phasers, but he was fresh out. Brian moved over to the opening as smoke rolled out of the portal. A blue hand emerged and rested itself on the hull, then the other hand, with a distruptor in it. Garan was trying to climb out of there, and he must be having a difficult time of it. Brian quickly moved over as Garan collapsed out of the hatch on his stomach.

Brian kicked the disruptor away and he heard it hit metal once, twice, then nothing, then heard it hit somewhere on the ground. If Garan wanted it, we would need to jump fifteen feet to get it.

Garan lurched forward, using his whole body to hit Brian’s feet and lower legs, sending him off balance. Brian crashed to the hull and Garan moved to get up. This had happened before and Brian didn’t want to repeat it. He rolled over and swiped Garan’s legs with his foot as hard as he could, bringing the perp down again.

They both rolled to their feet and faced each other. Brian saw the hatred in Garan’s eyes. If murder had a face, Garan had it. Garan yelled and charged him, hitting Brian in the stomach and wrapped his arms around them. They both flew backwards, Brian landing on his back and Garan on top of him. Brian brought his fist around, landing one on the right side of Garan’s head. He used his right hand, grabbed Garan’s shoulder, pushed off with his right foot and threw Garan off of him. Brian looked over and saw Garan rub his one eye. He had a bad wound on his forehead that was sending blood into his eye, the one time Brian was glad for exploding consoles. Hopefully Garan would be impaired enough. Garan rolled back over and got his hands around Brian’s neck. Breathing constricted, bad. Brian tried pulling Garan’s hands off him but they were fastened onto his neck pretty good. He reared both arms back and sent them forward as hard as he could, bringing his fists up and curving them to go over his shoulders. He broke Garan’s hold off his neck and tasted sweet air, well, air with some smoke in it, but good enough. He had overdone it though and his knuckles slammed into the unyielding hull, sending sharp waves of pain through his hand.

Garan had fallen forward and Brian threw him off him once again, this time rolling away as quick as he could and got back to his feet. Garan was already up and moving toward him. Both were out of breath, out of energy, out of weapons, out of everything except this fight. Garan threw a punch and Brian pulled back, the fist flying in front of his face. Brian sent one of his own flying, but Garan blocked his arm, used his free right hand to hit Brian in the forehead. Brian reeled back again and hit the stabilizer fin that was on the top of the ship.

Brian shook away spots and went around the side of the fin. Garan followed, blood in eye again, wiping it away, and came into view in time to connect with Brian’s moving right fist, sending him back a step. Brian’s left followed and Brian stepped forward, grabbed hold of Garan’s right shoulder and bent him down and launched him forehead first into the stabilizer fin.

Garan connected solidly and consciousness fled him, his thoughts, anger, hope of profit, stolen away by the darkness. Brian saw Garan stop suddenly when his head had hit the solid metal, and come to a rest on the hull of the ship, not moving. Brian collapsed, letting his legs give out and just layed there for a moment, panting from exhaustion, head pounding after meeting up with Garan’s fists a few times. Two minutes went by and Brian finally sat up, still feeling like the ship had landed on top of him. He took out his generic looking communicator from his pocket, signaled his ship, placed his hand on Garan’s arm, and beamed them both back to his ship.

Security Officer's Classified Duty Log

Lt. Commander Brian Graham recording

USS Morningstar (Special Assignment, Starfleet Intelligence, Internal Affiars, and Starfleet Security)

Stardate 200511.21 to Stardate 200511.26

Brian was crouched behind several crates, just outside the landing area. He could see Garan standing about ten meters away from his ship, a small transport ship that looked like it had had an maintenance overhaul about the time Starfleet ships could only go Warp 6, and looked like it had been cleaned before even that. The ramp that led into it was still down so Garan could get into the ship when he planned to leave. Garan was looking over a PADD, just a generic one you could buy anywhere, probably going over his cargo list to make sure he had everything. There were no Corvallens in sight, they probably didn’t trust them either, not that the Corvallens could be trusted anyway. Brian looked at his chronometer, 0350, Garan would be getting ready to lift off soon. Nothing had gone like he had planned. Instead of an extensive examination of the area, Brian had ended up talking with Leena until 0300. He had some Starfleet stories, ship, Academy, stuff like that, and she had a few of her own as a galactic wanderer and secret Starfleet operative in her spare time. He didn’t regret it, she needed someone to talk to as much as he did, so it was a symbiotic thing Brian guessed.

Brian quietly unholstered the phaser that was on his uniform. It should be simple, step out with phaser trained on him, tell him to give up, he does so since he has no alternative, take Garan in, justice served, the end.

Brian came out from behind the crate, phaser right on his quarry. “Garan,” he called out.

His adversary turned, “What!?,” he yelled in typically gruff voice, what one would expect from a person in his line of work.

“On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, I am placing you under arrest. Surrender, now.”

Brian was stupid to think he would. No criminal of this guy’s profession, who had done the things he had done, would capitulate so easy. And he didn’t. He dove instead behind some crates. Brian wished Starfleet regulations would have let him just shoot the guy. Garan sprung up, disruptor in hand and fired, sending two packages of deadly energy hurtling toward where Brian had been, except he wasn’t there. Brian had taken the opportunity to take cover the moment Garan had. Brian leaned passed the edge of some stacked crates, sending a stream of phaser energy back, maximum stun. Missed, no good, Garan pulled back as the shot impacted several inches away, sending some sparks up. Up again, Garan fired, missed, but close, he had been in a firefight or two. Brian didn’t know how long this could go on, one of them was bound of screw up, or…

Garan made the decision for him. Sending a salvo of disruptor blasts over as covering fire, Brian wheeled toward the other side of the crate, and caught Garan running for his open ship. Brian charged toward there as well, hoping to block him. They were moving perpendicular to each other but converging on the same spot. A few more meters and he’s be on his ship, before that, he would see Brian enough to be able to shoot him, and Brian couldn’t hit Garan, not with all the crates littered around. Instead, he kept up full speed toward the ship, set his phaser for a narrow beam, high power, and shot the ground in front of the ramp, sending up dust and debris as the surface exploded from the concentrated energy. Garan charged through the dust, hit the ramp, and Brian was already flying through the air, having dove for the ramp.

Brian connected with Garan, throwing them both off the ramp. Brian hit the ground on his left side, and felt his heart stop as he felt the phaser fly out of his hand. Fumble, you’ve got to be kidding me! Garan was right next to him, already rolling to get up. Brian got to his feet, just in time to let Garan’s fist hit him in the face, then the chest, and then kick the side of his knee, sending Brian to the ground again. Brian waited for the pulse of disruptor to hit him, but noticed Garan didn’t have a weapon either. Instead Garan was heading back to his ship and Brian saw the disruptor laying near the ramp. Shaking the rest of the stars away, Brian got up just as Garan reached his weapon and scooped it up.

Darn it Brian yelled internally and dove behind more crates as a bolt flew past him and one impacted the crate he was using as a shield. Brian looked to his right, seeing his phaser on the ground ten feet away. Garan would have him if he tried to get it, double darn it. But Garan had given up, Brian hood footsteps on metal and then the sound of moving machinery, Garan was getting away. Brian looked up just in time to see the ramp finish closing, with Garan inside and Brian stuck outside. Brian jumped to his feet and grabbed his phaser, already the engines throttling up. There was no way Brian could get to his ship in time and catch him, and his phaser wouldn’t be able to shut down that ship. The ship was slowly lifting off the ground, exhaust from the old engines whipping up dust and filling the pad with a deafening noise. No time to think about it, Brian ran toward the rear landing gear, working the phaser controls. He looked down and saw the red lights blinking on the power indicator. Shoving the phaser between some hoses, hoping it would stay there, Brian took cover, just in case fire started coming out of that engine. The ship began to ascend over the edge of the sunken landing bay. Moving toward the entrance of the bay, Brian braced himself behind the thick wall, he could hear was engines, though he thought he heard a high pitched, sustained whining noise, growing louder. The sound of the phaser he had set on overload.