rosetto

"Uh, honey...." winces... "I think I drank too much beer."

Male officer in the middle upper left: "What was the name on the woman's license?" Female officer next to him: "Deanna Troi, sounds Greek, Sarge?"

Come on guys, you start at the upper left. SPOCK, McCOY, SCOTTY, UHURA... there's only 55... plus one dog, one cat and a doll....

Happy Birthday STSF. I wish I had the words... (WHAT? rosetto's at a loss for words? Mr. book-report him self!)

Well gang, I have to give T'Aral an honorable mention because her comment made me laugh out loud, however, I think STSF Seiben has nailed it this time....simple but elegant.... ::passes the torch::

Shane rolled his eyes and turned around abruptly near the end of the alleyway, almost causing the other two to run into him. "We're eliminating possibilities," he said in a low annoyed growl, locking his stony gaze onto Sal, "If our man is not at his or the Deltan's room, then we can easily assume that something is indeed up. If the Deltan lied about her quarters here or told anyone a different story than what she told the Captain, it indicates that she is up to something." Turning back towards the end of the narrow walkway, he spoke over his shoulder as he pulled the wide brim of his hat to shadow his face, "Now either shut yer trap or pipe down, the place is just down the street. Orion, link your ODRI to commlink 552791 and I'll let y’all know what I see." Stepping from the shadows onto the busy street, he blended into the traffic of party goers and pleasure seekers unnoticed, stumbling a bit and mumbling under his breath. Within a few yards of the alleyway, he sat down in a heap with his back against the brick wall with his knees scrunched up to hide the communicator in his organic hand and his bionic arm tucked into his jacket across his lap. His head hung down as if he was falling into a drunken stupor and he observed the entrance to the pleasure hotel half a block down. In the misty and almost non-existent rain that sprinkled the dimly lit street, Sal met her gaze and there was an instant and unspoken understanding between them. As for Muscle, who had chose to sit down against a wall, Sal knew that he was rough but that came with the territory. Sal was still very happy to have him with them. Pher was right. Timing was everything. The picture was starting to become clearer to Sal. The QoB was most likely the only non-Guardian vessel with extended Warp speeds, those beyond Warp 5. If Minos needed a means to escape the system then the QoB would be a perfect choice. One thing that Sal knew was how fast and maneuverable the Klingon Bird of Prey were. He had chased far too many of them. That was why they had been in service for as many years as they had been. They were very versatile ships. And that was yet another piece of the puzzle, a bit of random data that Sal needed. It was one answer to why? Enough talk and enough thought. He could appreciate Shane’s comment which basically indicated that actions were needed, not words. Sal stood in the street and tried not to be so long winded. “First of all, Pher, you’re in charge. We’ll follow your lead.” He nodded to Shane and continued as Shane grunted. He chose his next words carefully because he was not too familiar with the capabilities of her implants, “I think that you and Audrey would get farther without our chaperone. That being said, I could start be looking for clues in Baldy’s room and I believe that Shane here could convince the manager to give us access to it. Shane?” Standing up, as the option of pre-observation seemed to have been decided against by the others, Shane nodded to Sal, "He'll give us access, one way or another." Pher gave him a look and he assured her, "I know, I won't kill him." Peering back towards the hotel he said, "If we're splitting from you, Pher, then we should enter separately." Pher looked at them and considered. Maybe she was wrong. She shouldn't underestimate their life experience. They were well travelled sentients of the galaxy. Maybe they did know more about talking to night managers of sleazy rent by the hour hotels than she did. She'd give them the benefit of the doubt. "Just watch out for the bomb on Baldie's door," she said. "Two blocks past the hotel, there's the Busted Flush. I'll be there in a bit. I've a few other bases to touch, and I'll walk Audrey some."

Aw... Sammy.... You are ALWAYS news-worthy here!

Okay, I guess that means it's my turn... Found a bunch of these today...

Being a quick study, he had the jest of the weapon down from her brief. It wasn’t much more than the pop-gun he had which was also ‘stun-only’. Sal took the girlie-gun and then smiled at Pher’s added commentary. He was glad to hear that she was not in favor of going in guns blazing. After all, they did not even know where they were ‘going’. While he walked Sal looked curiously at the weapon in his hand trying to stuff it in different pockets. It didn’t have a holster. He finally opted for his inside vest pocket, easily accessible while keeping the weapon concealed at the same time. Trying not to look too foolish, he mocked pulling it out as he walked to see if this was the best place to carry it. It seemed to be. Still, he was at a loss because he really did not fully appreciate the situation they were in. The Klingons were brutal in their application of civil diplomacy but one could see the logic of their culture and how it worked for them. They didn’t have the same value structure as humans. Life was precious but carried a different and less personal meaning to them. Minos, however, at Sal’s best guess, was not Klingon. He was pro-fed and most likely human. Had the circumstances been different Sal realized that he could just as easily have been defending a Minos asset or recovering one of his men. Until this terrorist act had occurred, the lines were very grey for Sal. “I have one…. actually, a question and suggestion,” He retorted taking longer strides to catch up and raising his right index finger in query. “Let’s say that Nickles ‘is’ being held by Minos’ men. My question would obviously be, why? “Like I have said, I am pretty much working in the dark here and I’m really not certain as to what you and-or the captain expect a job-applicant to do to become gainfully employed. Before I step into what may very well be a life-threatening environment, I guess I need to know why I’m here? “I realize that there is the matter of trust, that you have relinquished some of your own personal security by bringing us along and of course, this.” He pointed to his chest and continued to talk, “but there seems to be more to this situation than what is being revealed.” “My suggestion, for what it’s worth, is that we slow the pace here and collect the facts; determine if and where Nickles is being held and then figure out a way of getting him free. I thought we were in agreement back at the Maze that it would be best to let them make the first move? I am used to and know how to follow orders but am also used to those orders making sense. So, again there’s that hanging question, why?”

((rosetto/shane joint log)) Reaching into his black leather trench coat with his real arm, Shane pulled out large, but sleek Gauss pistol as he walked at a steady pace in front of the group. After a quick check of the power and ammo level, he flicked a switch on the side with his thumb. The weapon whined at a high pitched tone as the magnetic accelerator primed itself and fell silent when ready. Shane slipped it back in his shoulder holster and continued to move forward, "You say who to shoot and I'll hit 'em." Sal didn't know how to take Pher's comments. He wasn't offended by them but he was also concerned of the unnecessary violence that may ensue in his near future. This can sometimes be a necessary evil when there is definitely a cause worth standing behind. Political or financial gains were very low on Sal's list of worthy causes. That was why he left Star Fleet. They had resorted to violence in an attempt to resolve their internal issues. Obviously, that plan didn't work out for the Federation. If the XO's life was in danger then that would be a different story. Still, he had no evidence to conclude that he was in danger, only the words of an Orion woman. Sure, she seemed to know what she was doing but on the same note, he did not know her at all. He knew more about the Rainmakers which wasn't saying much but if they were truly behind this terrorist act then they would soon be feeling the wrath of more than the Guardians on their backsides. Sal knew that the Federation would never support such an organization. Sal thought long before he responded, "Well, Pher. I don't think it's worth going back to my hotel for a pop-gun. However, if either of you have a spare weapon and we need to resort to using them then, I'm all in." There was confusion, conflict in the logic and one thing that Sal was good at was isolating and deriving the truth from scattered bits of data. Before the captain had approached her, Pher was of a mind to wait and let the kidnappers make the first move. Sal was in agreement with this. It made the most sense. But now they were making the move. Why? He did not know. He was confused. This was not the right move to make. He could feel it. But if it was the move that they were to make then what was the smartest approach. They had no idea the number of Minos’ men they would be facing, if any. If the XO’s was kidnapped then it was their job to get him out unharmed. Since negotiation was not an option then the only means that Sal could see would be deception. If the men who were holding Nickles were distracted in some way then they would have opportunity to recover him. This was just the way that Sal’s mind worked. He was an analyst, a puzzle solver. Everything was just another jig-saw for him to reassemble. It was through planning and ingenuity he had built his business in Southgate. There was a workable solution to this as well. Step one had to be to determine where they had taken Nickles. This was probably best done by following their trail and asking questions along the way. If Pher was known by them then having her along would not be beneficial. No. These questions should be asked by Shane and Sal. And they should be questions of misdirection, having little to do specifically with Nickles. Once they determined where the next logical step was how. Sal focused on the mindset of the kidnappers, the ones who actually guarded Nickles. What would they be like? What would distract them from their task? He looked at Pher and she strutted confidently ahead of him. Women. That’s what they needed. Sal decided that he would suggest this when the stopped at Redera’s hotel. Pher may be taken back by Sal’s approach but he’d hoped that she would also see the logic of his reasoning.

ANTIQUES ROADSHOW HOST: "I see that you have a Master's chair from what seems to be the Victorian---- Hey! Who let this Riff Raff into the studio!!??!!"

A rose, by any other name. In Arizona they are known as QWEST. I think the "Q" stands for Qonfused! I had late charges attached to an account that also had autopay. They cut off my service not once, but 3 times! I tried to explain to them that I was travelling alot for my job, my 'then' mother-in-law was residing with me, she was 80+ years old and it was her only means of contact to the world in case of emergency! They cut it off a 4th time! I bought her a cell phone. (Edited for common courtesy. Scooter)

'Armed? Alarmed maybe', Sal thought to himself hoping that he wasn't thinking too loudly. He struggle for the right words. Sal hadn't picked up a weapon in ten years and had not even thought to bring one to a job interview. What a thought that was, he mused. 'Gimme the job or I'll change you from a rooster to a hen!' He was no marksman by any stretch of the imagination but he had managed when it was necessary. And he did think to bring one, albiet a small hand-held phaser. It was packed in a suitcase back at the hotel. It wasn't that powerful; more or less for home defense which was actually ludicrous for K'Normia. Harse words usually worked for chasing the local teens back to their mothers. Sal chose his words. "I'm light. It's back at my hotel. I'm really in the dark here. Do you really think that Deltan could be lethal?"

Looking for the clues It was clearly understood in Sal's mind that this explosion was not accidental. Sal really wasn't "up" on the latest news of the Cluster. He was 72 light-years from his stomping grounds. This place was a completely different world to him. Half way between settled and unexplored, he knew that he would have to keep "up" if he was going to survive, let alone earn his keep. This Minos character was topping his short list. What Sal wanted to do was spend some time in front of a terminal conducting some proper research first hand. There simply wasn't time for that. Perhaps Ms. Pheromone could bring him to speed. One thing that Sal did not like was flying by the seat of his pants. Alas, that was all he could do at the moment. Even though "Mr. Muscle" seemed very impersonal to him, Sal was very glad to have him along. What ever this was all about these people were serious and many innocent lives had just been lost in this explosion. This event had triggered a deep emotion in Sal, a desire to right the wrong, step outside of his sheltered world and onto the cold turf of his current reality with vigor and confidence. He laughed to himself as he recalled a pet name that was given to him in the Academy, "Johnnie Rocket". In the end, though, Sal knew that what he could add to the immediate equation was knowledge and analysis. When it came to brains and brawn he was most definitely NOT the latter. Sal thought about the Deltan as he scurried to catch up with Pher and Shane. His mind started to pick apart everything he overheard. He was an analyst and so he focused his brain-power on the data that he had been presented. She had referred to him as a "fleeter". Naturally this added a negative connotation toward the Federation. However, she was over-emphasizing this in her posture as if she was acting. Acting? Sal thought about that for several seconds remembering how predictable her act had seemed to him. It was the worse he'd ever seen. Joia had done better in her Elementary play three annuls ago where she was a tree. Sal had had trouble believing that Mr. Nickles was falling for the Deltan charm that easily. She must have been pushing that pixie dust pretty hard. He thought more on the conversation and how Nickles had been trying to impress Redera. It was enough to make Sal feel ill. She had said that she had very little money and then Nickles offered for her to stay with him. "Show me!" Sal recalled the Deltan's sqeaky response. They weren't headed to her hotel. They were headed to his. He thought once again about how the Deltan had been playing her role and leaving misleading clues in her mannerisms. If this Deltan was as devious as Pher had suspected then they weren't "headed" for either place. It would be a rare night which would blend well with the events as they had been unfolding. A thick cloud bank had covered the skies and a light rain had started to fall. Although the districts were shielded by bioenvironmental domes these domes were energy-based and controlled by complex filtering schemes. Basically, if it was raining outside the dome then it was raining inside as well. Light from the grid work of streetlamps, patterns of windows in the buildings rising on either side and from the various billboards and signs began to glisten off every surface. The sun had disappeared hours ago and would not return for long time. Traffic was heavy and the faces of the people that they had passed were cold and expressionless. They seemed depressed and in some eyes Sal saw panic. The architecture was a mixture of new modern age with traditional Klingon stone work and older rectangular glass and steel frameworks. The writing on the various signs was also a mixture of Terran and Klingon languages and fonts. It reminded Sal of a trip to the San Francisco Museum with its cultural diversity. Sal focused on the sketchy data that he had just trying to keep pace with Pher’s swift steps. There wasn’t much to go on. Basically Nickles had been seduced and probably rolled. Sal had seen this before. Poor Jackson lost all of his credits, IDs, personal communicator and his socks. Yeah, his socks. He returned to the ship the next morning to explain what had happened and he had no socks on his feet. Sal chuckled to himself, perhaps out of nervousness. He was liking and not liking this whole thing. The adrenaline rush was starting to peak as his eyes scanned left and right looking for any addition data that might help their situation.

QUESTION: Why do some ADV SIMs have their own ROOM while others utilize the Holodeck & Ready Room?

Thank you all... This is good information. It's obvious that I am still very new around here. I sincerely appreciate the patience that I have been afforded in spite of my unbounded curiosity and probing.

Thanks ladies. I guess the answer is NO. There is no special reason that some have their own rooms while others do not. I guess the next question would be then, why don't we place the Academy in its own room? That way if it happens to run over then we won't interrupt any other SIM....

Voice from the man on right speaking to another who is out of the shot: "My pa tolded me not to rev these ferin kars, miss. You want I should carry ya back to town?"

You mean my realtor FINALLY go my property on the market! Woo Hoo! LOL

“I could be”, Sal returned a curious stare, “How is it of concern to you?” “Sir, I work for the Vulcan High Counsel in the capacity of currier. Can we continue this conversation else where. This is not a secure location.” The music was considerably livelier and drowning out his voice but Sal got the jest of his statement. The two men walked outside and Stubin led Sal to the conveyance parking area. It was much quieter there and while they walked Stubin told Sal why he had sought him out. It wasn’t about Sal at all. Stubin had wanted to reach Donnager. Stubin knew thought that Donnager did not trust Vulcans and so it was logical that Stubin contact a friend and establish trust through Sal. Stubin seemed to have dossiers on everyone that Frank knew. This business that Stubin spoke of was highly sensitive and he knew that it must be approached with the strictest care. Donnager had to trust that Stubin was who he’d claimed to be without question and without using a mindmeld which would raise Donnager’s total suspicion. It wasn’t that Donnager didn’t understand this Vulcan technique. It was quite the opposite. Stubin knew that Donnager believed that Vulcans could use this to make people believe anything that they wanted them to believe. Through Sal and Celia, Stubin could gain Donnager’s trust and be certain that the information was transferred properly and accurately between Donnager and Colonel DiAngelo. Sal’s head was spinning. He wasn’t exactly sure that he had followed all that Stubin had told him but he did know from past experience that Vulcans did not lie. It was completely illogical to speak about things that were untrue. Most commonly humans told lies to save face, be it their own or someone with whom they had a bond of friendship. It was to avoid embarrassment. Seldom did he find that another human was truly deviant. “So, I guess we have to get Celia out here next?” “This will raise suspicion. In fact, you should return to your table right away. You have been gone much longer than would be expected for a---“, the Vulcan paused in thought, “How do you humans say it? A call of nature.” Sal smiled and Stubin continued, “Let us meet back at the hotel tonight at 0130 hours. Bring Lieutenant Johns with you and we shall proceed from there.” Sal agreed and the Vulcan nodded once, turned and walked into the darkness. On his way back to the table Sal pored over everything the Vulcan had said and realized that he’d hardly said anything. The three major bullets were Vulcan High Counsel, Colonel DiAngelo and Frank. Sal approached the table quietly and resumed his seat next to Celia. The band had taken a short break but the house lights were not raised. “Everything alright?” “Yeah, I’ll explain later. How’s the show?” “They’re pretty good. Kris and Tony went out and danced for one song. I’m dragging you out on the next one.” “Really?” “Yes. Really. So put on those taps shoes of yours and get ready mister, cuz I’m ready to cut some carpet”, Celia smiled at Sal knowing that he would probably try to find a way to get out of it. But she was also building up her own courage with the help of the tequila and was determined that she would be dancing with him before the evening closed. “How’s Frank holding out? I mean---“ “He’s fine. We have been chatting. He decided to go up to the bar and introduce himself to that Akaalian woman”, she pointed. Sal looked over and saw that Frank looked like he was doing very well. “He may find his own way home tonight”, she added. Celia smiled and Sal joined her as he reached for his ale. Surprisingly, it had been refilled and not flat. Celia was making brownie points and Sal was beginning to come around to exactly what this two week adventure had in store. He’d never really thought long about how it might be with her; had given up on that many months ago, before they had started their tour of the sector. Sal was now thinking that perhaps he had misread her altogether. The rest of the concert went very smoothly and Celia did get Sal out on the dance floor for a couple of songs. The canary seemed very satisfied with the kitten that she had cornered and Sal had seen this as a new beginning to his life on the El Paso. Frank never did come back to the table but it had been half expected and hoped that he would find someone with whom to enjoy the evening. It was 1230 by the time they returned to the hotel. Sal and Celia wished Kris and Tony good evening as they stepped out of the lift. As soon as the doors shut again Sal found his lips pressed firmly against Celia’s. He thought to himself, ‘Just add tequila’ and grabbed her into his arms. They barely made it back to his room before she had his jacket tossed on the bar and his shirt wadded in a corner. Sal awoke a while later sudden and almost panicked. Celia was standing by the window looking down on the plaza below. “What time is it?” he asked. She looked at her chronometer and replied, “Almost 2AM.” Sal jumped up, pulled his pants on and began looking for his shirt. “We going somewhere?” She asked. “There’s someone that I want you to meet. I made the arrangements earlier with him. It completely slipped my mind. We were supposed to meet at 1:30…” “You mean the Vulcan?” she questioned without it being a question and she continued, “Because I think he’s the same one I’m looking at and he doesn’t look like he’ll be meeting with anyone anytime in the future.” “What do you mean”, Sal replied stumbling over to the window next to her. They both looked down as the local police had arrived. Stubin’s body laid motionless on the concrete with a visible wound in his lower back. Whoever had done it knew exactly where a shot would be fatal. The next morning their trip was cut short due to three days of questioning and the five returned to the El Paso to repeat everything to Captain Cumings. In his confidence Sal revealed what the Vulcan had told him. He assured the captain that the authorities also knew what he had just said. Sal really knew very little as to what was going on. He just wanted to put it all behind him. As the months passed his relationship with Celia waned and she transferred to another vessel when she was promoted. It was a quick good-bye by Sal knew that it was good-bye. He had not seen her since. Frank, too, seemed to disappear from the group. He was always called away on some medical emergency and Sal never found the opportunity to sit him down and explain who the Vulcan was. Vulcan motivation was still a mystery to Sal.

Everyone went back to their rooms to change into their evening attire. They would not have much time for primping. Sal entered his room and found his suitcase, opened it and quickly hung the items that needed to be hung. He then selected the jet black suit with a brightly colored tunic. He got dressed and pulled a comb through his hair, did the usual masculine primping which wasn’t much and dashed out of his room. He tapped his lapel and nothing happened. His personal communicator was lying on the nightstand. Frustrated with himself, Sal returned to his room and grabbed it and tapped again, “Tony? You guys about ready?” “Just about Sal. We’ll meet you downstairs.” Sal tapped it again, “Celia?” “Yes, Sal. I’m on my way.” There was an attitude attached to her voice but Sal knew her well enough as she knew him. She would probably beat him to the lift but would be there when he arrived. And she was. Dressed in a tightly fitted shimmering blue frock, Celia smiled as Sal approached. She looked like a million credits and Sal could hardly imagine how she was able to pull that off in 30 minutes. Celia took note that Sal’s mouth was on the floor and allowed him a moment’s opportunity to pick it up before they entered the lift. “Nice jacket”, she commented, actually meaning it as she sized up her escort for the evening. “Thanks. That dress is something else too.” Sal replied with a smile, “Wow.” As expected, Frank was at the lobby bar and saw them exit the lift. He was wearing a green pin-striped suit with a subdued tunic and tie. Celia grabbed his arm and they trotted off to the shuttle stand at the far end of the lobby area. There were several cabs available and so they stood away from the crowd and waited for Kris and Tony to arrive. Kris was in a long black formal pantsuit and heels. She had put her blonde hair up in a swirl, letting one strand fall freely across the side of her face. Tony was in white and they approached from the left in a near panicked state. The women instantly started chatting while Tony located an appropriate cab. Happersville was about 5 kilometers outside of the city complex. Aldebaran had disappeared over the horizon and so everyone’s sense of direction had been slightly skewed. Sal knew from the map he had reviewed that their destination was west of the city and that Crystal Bay lied just to the north. The buildings were sparse outside the complex but they still hugged the edges of the street. The few that were set back were most likely residences or facilities that depended little on the commerce of tourism. Celia and Kris were sitting next to each other in the back with Tony. Celia was pointing at this and that but there wasn’t very many street lights outside the complex and things were hard to see. Sal, who was sitting next to Frank in front looked ahead at a soft glow and then nodded back to Tony, “Happersville?” “Looks like it. The Trapezium will be set back from the other buildings.” Tony looked at the brochure in his hand which had a rough map of Happersville on its back page. There were just a few side streets off the main highway that criss-crossed in a twisted grid pattern. All of them were on the north side of the highway filling the space between the road and the waterfront. The shuttle was an autocab. There was no driver, perse’. They operated similar to the turbolift system onboard a starfleet vessel. Tony had fed in the destination coordinates when they had entered the cab and after everyone was seated, he set them in motion by the simple “engage” command directed to the programming panel. These cabs operated throughout the city complex but also recognized a limited number of destinations outside the complex as well. The brochure had indicated that the Trapezium was included in these destinations. The cab turned off the main highway and headed down a long drive that was lined with lights. There were personal conveyances parked on either side of the drive and people walking up the sidewalk that lead to the club. The cab pulled up to the main entrance and the door slid open. Kris was the first to get out, quickly followed by Tony and then Frank. Sal waited until Celia was through before he exited. The cab door closed and the cab zipped away into the darkness. The fanfare was definitely different from life on the El Paso. There were people in every direction wearing a variety of different styles. Most were formal and the group had consciously released a simultaneous sigh of relief. Being underdressed was sometimes fun, especially if it was the intent of the evening. On the flip side, being overdressed usually meant for a cold and uncomfortable time. Celia grabbed Sal’s arm which was not out of the ordinary but pleasantly received by him. He wasn’t going to push it, but he thought that perhaps there was something more to this relationship than he had realized. They found an open table near the wall and a server quickly took their drink orders. Everyone was drinking this time and Celia had made a comment, “oh just one or two to take the edge off.” The conversation was gay and light-hearted and there was an excitement in the air as the crowd slowly quieted and the main lighting of the room was dimmed. A voice came over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen, Platinum Junction” There was a brief applause and a steady murmur that continued as a spotlight fixed on a lone guitarist to the left of center-stage. The acoustics of the room had captured the melody and it floated like a gentle breeze. Sal leaned back in his seat and Celia, still on his arm, snuggled closer as they listened to the soft picking echoing through the room. A saxophone soon joined the melody which was followed by a piped instrument called a sentic. It was from the planet Valakis and added a unique stir to the mood of the music. Celia’s eyes were closed but Sal scanned the room in an attempt to share the experience with others in the crowd. Frank was a bit edgy but Kris was in Tony’s arms at the front of the table facing away from Sal. They were obviously enjoying the tapestry being painted. As Sal scanned he noted an open bar with a variety of patrons in a number of different groupings. Most were duets or trios but there were a couple of people who sat alone. He continued to slowly pan his eyes across the room not fixing them on anyone in particular. Then they stopped abruptly. It was enough for Celia to take notice and she whispered to him, “What is it?” “The Vulcan.” “The wh—“, she looked quickly in the direction he was looking and continued to whisper, “Oh my god, you’re right. It is him.” Celia paused for a moment and then nudged Sal, “He’s probably here to enjoy the concert as well. Come on. We’re here to relax, okay?” “Vulcans don’t---“ “Shhh” She scolded him with a smile and squeezed tighter to his arm. Sal lamented and waited patiently for the song to conclude. Celia noted that he had continued to look quickly over at the Vulcan in attempts to catch the Vulcan doing the same but kept it to her self. She tried to enjoy the music and sipped her tequila. Sal was back to drinking ale and he’d finished his as the song ended and the crowd began to applaud. Sal rose, “I’ll be right back. Nature.” Celia knew that ‘Nature’ was not calling him but also knew that he wouldn’t relax until he found out who the Vulcan was and what he was doing there. Sal excused himself from the table and looked around for the restroom sign. Not finding it he headed toward the bar. The band started their next number which was very light and fun. The crowd had started clapping and everyone was smiling and laughing. Even the bartender was clapping as Sal approached her. It was noisy and so Sal tried to visually communicate with her. She eventually got his meaning and pointed off to the right with a smile. As Sal walked away he saw out of the corner of his eye that the Vulcan was watching him. He glanced down at something in his hand and then stood and walked toward the exit. They met in the hall. “Who are you and what do you want?” Sal spoke curtly. “You are watching us and frankly, scaring the women.” The Vulcan looked cautiously at Sal but did not pause before he replied, “I am Stubin. You are not mistaken. I have been observing you and your party since your arrival on Tartessos. I had to be certain before I approached you. You are Salvatore Rosetto, of the El Paso, correct?”

The buzz in the air was the Andorian Miracle Cure. Sal didn’t know much about medicine but Frank Donnager did. Frank was with Tony and Kris when they arrived on the plaza transport pad in Crystal City. Celia knew Frank from a previous assignment and he was the newcomer to the group that Sal was known to hang around. Frank had some theories about the Zencarian metabolism and its unique strain of antibodies. Sal was certain that he’d hear all about them over dinner. Celia kissed Tony on the cheek and grabbed Kris’ arm. The women were in good company. The guys would be lucky to see them after that evening. They had other plans in Crystal City. This was the first real port that the El Paso had seen in four months. “Hey Kris… Tony”, opened Sal, “Did you get everything off the El Paso okay?” “Yeah”, Kris responded, “We’re all set for this wild adventure you got planned. I even had Tony pack an extra portable LSU. We’re staying inside the terra-formed regions, right? I don’t think any of us are equipped to venture outside. Besides, we’re on vacation! That would be too much like work for me!” Kris, Lieutenant Commander Kristina Flanningan, was a senior environment specialist on the Science Team. She had been dating Tony now for four years. Sal & Celia had teased that they were never going to take that step. Tony, Lieutenant Anthony P. Hurtus, worked for Sal. He was a bright engineer and had helped Sal out of a couple of fixes. They became friends soon after Sal had joined the El Paso crew. Tony wasn’t as ambitious as Sal, though. So even though they were of the same rank when they met, Sal had advanced further and taken over the department when Chief Peterson was transferred. Tony didn’t mind. He preferred not to be in the spotlight, as it were. “Hey Frank! Did you remember to bring that Capellan brandy of yours? That should go down smoothly when we’re roughing it on the Green River.” “Yeah Sal, I did. Also brought an extra-thick EV bag since I’ll be flying solo this trip”, Frank laughed and Sal returned an appropriate smile knowing that he too was in a similar situation. Celia and he would be sharing a tent on the river but other than that it was separate but equal billing. Everyone got settled into their hotel rooms and Sal caught back up with everyone on the Plaza Deck that overlooked Crystal Bay. It was late afternoon and Baran-6 hung quietly on the blue-within-blue sky. This was a unexpected feature of Tartessos because the skies of the other worlds of the Aldebaran System all had deep red hues. Aldebaran was 40 times the size and 150 times as bright as Sol. It dominated the sky with its off-red glow but the oxygen-rich atmosphere of Tartessos overpowered its energy. It was still quite warm and everyone had opted for short pants and sleeves. Even the doctor who had extremely white calves wore a pair of low contrast gray shorts. The girls wore swimwear though Kris had a light wrap around her shoulders. The special was Kansas City Barbeque which was always a favorite on a Human colony. Everyone sat down and grabbed menus from the holder that was centrally located. “Well, I’m having ribs. Haven’t had real meat in several months”, popped Celia as the server approached the table. “Can I start you off with some refreshing Aldebaran Tea?” asked the server. They all looked at each other, nodded and stated in unison, “Stiffer!” Sal pointed to a particularly potent liquor on the menu called gPuk and said, “Neat.” “I’ll have a planetary nebula… with whipped cream”, exclaimed Kris in her soft-spoken voice, “Hun. You want a beer?” Tony nodded and Frank waited for the server and then spoke, “I’ll have a whiskey and soda. Celia. What are you having?” “I think I’ll have that tea you mentioned. Someone’s gotta get these boys back to their rooms.” The table laughed and the server smiled, “I’ll get those drink right away.” Dinner was much quieter. Frank didn’t once mention medicine and Sal thought that made everyone feel more at ease. Kris and Tony kept on about this new entertainment group who used real instruments. They had seen them before and knew the group was in for a treat. Sal couldn’t help noticing a Vulcan sitting in the shade alone. He had an iced tea that he had not touched and several times Sal had caught him looking in their direction and taking notes of some kind. If he was fleet then he was out of uniform. Celia told him that it was some form of diplomatic attire. Frank disagreed and said that it looked more civilian than anything. Regardless, it was unsettling for the entire table and so when everyone was satisfied they all left together. As they left, Frank motioned, “This one’s on me.”

Shore Leave in Crystal City MAY-JUN 2398, Aldebaran Sector Sal was tired. He had spent much of the last 16 months updating UFP databanks with the myriad of differing planetary systems and astronomical phenomenon that they had encountered while touring the Aldebaran Sector. He had led a team of 16 navigational engineers and so a lot of icon pushing was involved. His office walls were closing in on him and he needed to get away from the techno-titanium world that he called home. Captain Cumings had promised the crew shore leave as soon as they reached the Aldebaran System. Many had requested leave on Aldebaran IV which was the home world of the native Aldebaranese race. To Sal, this was simply more of the same and so he had made plans with four other crew-mates to take an adventure on Tartessos. Aldebaran III was known to the natives as Tartessos. Originally categorized as a class K planet back in the 23rd century when Aldebaran membership to the federation was established. Since then there had been terra-forming on Tartessos however the planet is nearly twice the size of Earth and much of the planet is still quite arid and barren. Outside the terra-formed areas the average surface temperature is 75 degrees C and the atmosphere is still only at about 65% O-N standard. Crystal City was not the oldest settlement, only 80 years in development, was still too highly developed for Sal and his band of explorers. The newer sections of the Green River Valley and Lake Beane were still under restricted access, but they offered a more rural environment where they could get back to nature. Terra-forming had been underway there for only 30 years and although there were a couple of small villages these areas still depended on much of their commerce and support from Crystal City and its intergalactic spaceport. Sal walked up to Lt. Celia Johns quarters and pressed the entry chime. He heard a voice respond that sounded muddled, “I’m in the shower, Sal. Come on in and make yourself a drink.” Lieutenant Johns worked in security and Sal had befriended her two years ago when she came onboard. They both had a fascination for old 2D visual entertainment records. Celia even liked the ones that were monochromatic but Sal couldn’t justify it, too artsy for him. His mother had liked this form of entertainment and so it was passed onto Sal as a child. Sal entered Celia’s quarters and found the replicator. Usually Sal would drink some kind of ale but he was officially on leave now and so he selected high ball. After taking a sip he called out, “What are you drinking?” “Sal, you know I only drink Tequila! I think there’s a good starfire mix. Make it a double!” Sal heard laughter from the other room and called up Celia’s request. “Are you all packed?” “Yeah, I’ve already had my bags beamed down to Crystal City. We’ll be there for two days, right?” She answered as she finished getting dressed. She came into the room wearing the smallest dark green shorts that Sal had ever seen. Celia was very attractive but Sal had sensed little physical attraction to him. They were just really good friends in his mind. “So, where are we meeting them?” “In Crystal City at three o’clock. The shuttle to Happersville doesn’t leave until 5. We’ll have time to get a bite to eat.” “I thought we had a couple of days in Crystal City?” “We do. Happersville is where the nightclub that Tony and Kris wanted to go. It should be a lot of fun.” “Yeah, I was thinking I might drag you out on the floor.” “You don’t wanna spoil the whole evening, do you?” They both chuckled and Celia led Sal to the sofa where they sat and continued to chat. Celia seemed especially delighted that Sal had asked her along and she in a very light mood. They laughed and finished their drinks and then left to the transporter room so they could meet up with the rest of the group on the surface.

Tonite was an absolute H O O T!!! Mr. Atragon, you can crash a shuttle even better than me! LOL I about lost it (OOC) when the MASSES arrived and someone said, "I heard there was cake!" Funny that poor Mr. Shurte had programmed the shuttle to go straight to Liberal, Kansas. I wonder if that's where he was from? Too many one-liners to mention...

Although that was a vibrant and delicious topic of discussion, there were several scattered comments that should also be mentioned. "Could someone please check the environmental controls. It's awfully uncomfortable in here." <<paraphrased of course. I think the fact that our XO (A9, the impromptu pilot) arrived slightly earlier than we did to our unscheduled destination was the clincher.