Star Trek RPG - Mission #3: "Some Other Side of Paradise"

Graham steps up his pace, trying to keep his voice level as he hails Rangin and Kylah. "OK, you said Palver was calm, cool, collected, even arrogant. If he's so sure of himself, why move now? And it's not like this big rich guy can up and vanish like some anonymous junkie in a Frontier colony...what could we be near uncovering...?"

Graham arrives at the guest house and finds Rangin, Kylah and Rawlings there. Kylah looks angry and Rawlings looks abashed.

Graham stops short and blinks, looking from person to person. "Is everything all right here?" he asks.

Rangin nods coolly to the oncoming ensign. "Palver's definitely not here, I suggest you try contacting him directly as the person in charge of the investigation. See if he responds to a hail."

Pulling out his tricorder, Rangin starts to sweep the area looking for any trace that Palver might be in the vicinity though not expecting to find anything.

"Yes Kylah, you were correct, he is a most definitely a flight risk", Rangin looks back at Graham. "It appears that another of Ens. Kylah's requests of your Security detail has gone, once again unheeded. This time, it may only lose us Fellim Palver. A small price considering that last time, it could have cost Kylah her life."

Palver is not within the scanning range of Rangin's tricorder.

Rawlings clears his throat, a low rumble that might move mountains, and says to Graham, "It's my fault, sir. Mr. Kylah asked about a transporter jammer for Mr. Palver's house and it completely slipped my mind. No excuses, sir."

"I see, Graham replies, frowning. "That's the proper attitude, at least, Mr. Rawlings," he says sternly but evenly.

He turns to Kylah. "I'd like us to discuss this...these..." he adds, with a glance at Rangin although not entirely sure what the Coridanite was talking about, "...situations, privately, Mr. Kylah. But first things first, let's see whether Palver's halfway to the Gamma Quadrant or still within communicator range." Graham asks the Yorktown to scan for Rhandaarite lifesigns, then attempts to contact Palver directly, asking the resort's staff to provide contact information if other methods fail.

Science Officer Roble says ship's sensors do not reveal any Rhaandarite lifesigns on the planet's surface or nearby space, other than a single such lifesign on the Trimalchio.

An officer on the yacht replies to Graham's hail, and Palver eventually comes on the line. "Yes, Mr. Graham? I'm rather busy at the moment."

"Well, we all know how that is," Graham replies to Palver, simulating empathy and raising his eyebrows. "I confess I'm surprised you decided to up and leave so abruptly, what with the murder investigation still underway. On the other hand, with some new information we're very, very close to wrapping this up, if you'd indulge me perhaps a short conversation could help us put this whole matter to bed without any unpleasantness about the sudden and unexpected departure."

He glances around. "I have on good authority your house here is still available." After a second's pause, recalling Vargas' emphasizing that they'd been denied a warrant to gain access to Palver's ship, he adds "...or if you're busy, we could come to you."

"I was not told I had to remain on the planet," Palver says, a little crossly, "and something has come up in my business dealings on Valca IV that I need to attend to." He pauses. "I suppose... yes, all right, I have a little time; we can talk. Come to the ship, please. Should I have you beamed up now?"

Rangin stops and thinks for a moment. Palver said he was not told that he had to remain, but...given he was here for spore treatment, it is very doubtful that anyone undergoing such practice would be allowed to leave until the spores had been neutralised and the resort happy that everything had been completed.

A process that Palver had definitely not undergone despite the circumstances.

Rangin hastily started searching through the resort's details on the requirements of the stay for guests to see if there was a way to insist on Palver's return to undertake such a procedure. The thought that a WR&R rule could force him back was quite amusing.

Rangin sees no such rule in the resort's Guidebook for Guests. Palver is no longer under the spores' influence, he knows, and introductions to spores were suspended indefinitely after Wilson's murder.

Rangin blinks a few times in surprise when he realises there is nothing here to stop someone coming down to the surface, getting spored up and then leaving again. All it would require was a Berthold ray generator and the spores could go far and wide and well out of the control of the Federation.

Who wrote that contract?

Rangin remembers Dr. Lucy Anderson at the Starfleet research station saying the spores soon lose their effectiveness when removed from OC3, for reasons that are still unknown despite extensive testing.

No one leaves without having shed the spores' effect, true, but Palver already had.

Graham makes sure he's not transmitting. "You should come with me," he says to Ens. Kylah. He pauses a moment, thinking about how many people to bring.

"You too, Mr. Rangin," he adds.

"Rawlings, lend me your sidearm," he says, once he has it in hand he secures it in his right boot. "Once Kylah, Rangin, and I are onboard let Yorktown know that we're on the Trimalchio by invitation."

He returns to his communicator. "You're too kind," he says dryly. "Three to beam aboard, then."

Rawlings gives Graham his phaser-1, frowning slightly, and says, "Understood, sir." He steps away from the rest of the group.

In seconds, Graham, Rangin and Kylah disappear into the transporter effect. It feels different from Starfleet transporters - an uncomfortable sensation of being compressed, somehow, and very brief disorientation when beaming is complete. You find yourselves on a four-person transporter pad, in a sleek duranium-silver room trimmed with burnished dark wood.

You are facing two men in crisp white uniforms trimmed with brass buttons, looking almost like 19th century Earth naval officers. One is behind the transporter control console. The other steps forward and says, "Welcome aboard the Trimalchio. Mr. Palver will see you now. Follow me, please." He gestures towards the door.

Rangin raises an eyebrow at Graham's command to join him and Kylah in beaming up to the Trimalchio, but doesn't raise any complaint. It's a chance to finally get on board the ship which has so far been out of reach.

Once on board, he waits for Graham to lead off.

"Lead the way, Mr...?" Graham says amiably, nodding acknowledgment.

"Dellwood," the man says, nodding, before leading the three of you through the door and down a short corridor to another door, which opens at his touch. You step in to find a very comfortable lounge/sitting room, about twice the size of the Yorktown's Bridge. It, like the transporter room and hallway, has the same high-gloss duranium-and-wood design. Eight expensive-looking paintings hang on the bulkheads; several busts, sculptures and small art objects sit on tasteful, spotlit pedestals. There is a full bar, a replicator and an Altairian spinet. It is the fanciest compartment on a starship most of you have ever seen.

Palver is sitting in a modern, comfortable chair, facing a coffee table and five other such chairs. He stands as you come in. He is wearing a dark dressing gown of a severe cut over his shirt and pants. Smiling warmly, he says, "Welcome aboard, everyone. May I offer you a drink?"

Mr. Dellwood bows slightly to the tycoon and leaves; the door whispers shut behind him.

Kylah takes in both Palver and the room, not hugely impressed. While she appreciates art, such opulence is of little consequence to her. "Nothing for myself, thank you," she says quietly, then lifts a hand, gesturing to their surroundings. "I would compliment you on the décor, Mr. Palver, but I understand this yacht is chartered, rather than your own. Still, we appreciate your welcoming us on board."

The latter comment is more for Graham's benefit than Palver's. She is not certain he remembers this ship is not under Palver's command--he only rents it. For this reason she wishes they had gone directly to the ship's crew instead of Palver; the crew might actually be willing to assist, assuming they do not want trouble on their yacht. Bearing this in mind, Kylah glances at Graham and murmurs, "We must remember to pay our respects to the captain himself, sir."

Then she returns her focus to Palver, in particular his mood.

Rangin shakes his head slightly at Palver's question leaving Graham and Kylah to do the talking.

He looks round the room taking in the ostentatious nature of the room and wondering just how much it cost, even though the figures probably wouldn't mean that much too him. After all, at that level that was all they were, just numbers.

When Graham shakes his head, too, the billionaire shrugs slightly. "As you wish. Please, have a seat." He sits back down and presses a switch on the table. One entire bulkhead slides silently down out of the way, revealing absolutely stunning, deck-to-ceiling views of Omicron Ceti III far below. Not a room for anyone with agoraphobia..., Graham thinks.

Graham's eyes widen just slightly in appreciation when Kylah murmurs her comment about the ship's Captain--and her subtle but clear reminder to him about the leased nature of the ship. Despite the fact that he keeps his game face on, in point of fact, you've really got nothing here, Booker, he thinks. "Getting on the ship before Palver decides to take off" was about as far ahead as he's thought--especially given that I haven't actually talked to the guy. It would have been easier if he'd come at us shooting, he thinks. I believe he's guilty but..."

He hopes Kylah and Rangin have ideas. Although I wonder if Rangin would find the entertainment value of watching me twist in the wind like an idiot more rewarding than solving the case...

"Nice ship," Graham says to Palver. "Do you usually lease the same ship or use the same crew?"
"You know," he says, lowering his voice. "We've arrested Admiral Hardin for murder." He pauses, as if that's an indication the case is nearly closed. Then he taps his chin and adds, with apparent consternation, "there are a few things that don't add up..."
How much would ILG stand to gain a lot by getting this franchise away from WR&R?
How well did you know Hardin? Have you spoken with him about renewal?
And Mr. Wilson--remind me, when was the last time you saw Wilson alive?

Do any of you sit, as invited?

"Nice ship," Ens. Graham says to Palver. "Do you usually lease the same ship or use the same crew?"
"Thank you. This is the third time I've chartered the Trimalchio," he says. "It's a good ship and the crew is first-rate. There are several others I've used from time to time, but none as often as this. I've also gone by liner, but I prefer having more control over my schedule."

"You know," Graham says, lowering his voice. "We've arrested Admiral Hardin for murder." He pauses, as if that's an indication the case is nearly closed. Then he taps his chin and adds, with apparent consternation, "there are a few things that don't add up..."
"Indeed?" Palver asks, smiling slightly.

"How much would ILG stand to gain a lot by getting this franchise away from WR&R?"
"Oh, quite a bit."

"How well did you know Hardin? Have you spoken with him about renewal?"
"I didn't know him that well; we had only briefly spoken about renewal of the contract."

"And Mr. Wilson--remind me, when was the last time you saw Wilson alive?"
"Hmmm." He thinks. "When would that have been...?"

Kylah casts a sidelong glance at Graham. Is he working up to the primary questions, or has he forgotten why Palver is now a primary suspect? She has little patience for nuance right now; as far as she is concerned, thanks to the ridiculous lies about his behavior the night of the murder as well as his connection to Hardin, they have every reason to arrest Palver--the JAG allowed them this discretion. If the charges do not stick, so be it. They need him off this ship.

She does not take a seat, but steps closer to Palver, near enough so that she should be able to gauge his emotions as best she can without actually touching him. She cannot think of a way to contrive an actual tactile connection short of tripping and falling on him, but that did not work well with the Hwuen. Then again, he is not surrounded by guards.

Kylah stops about a foot away and stares flatly at him. As she asks the following questions, she allows him time to answer each one.

"Is your communications device working, Mr. Palver?"

"Have you used that device in the past 48 hours to speak with Vice Admiral Hardin or Mattie Hsu?"

"We have determined that in the interim after Vice Admiral Hardin stunned two Starfleet officers and was escaping across the resort grounds, he made several attempts to contact two other individuals via his communicator. We know he spoke with one of these people, but the other did not respond." Kylah's gaze intensifies as she looks up at the Rhaandarite. "Given your claim that you barely knew Hardin, can you think of a reason why, while on the run from the authorities, Hardin tried multiple times to reach out to you?"

While Palver is distracted by Graham and Kylah, Rangin slips in behind Graham's larger form and taps down on his tricorder setting it to scan for a couple of things, namely the presence of any spores or the presence of anything matching the murder weapon. After all one of those knives was still missing, despite what Hardin had confessed to. Also, given that Rangin had been running these scans quite recently, it would only take a matter of moments to start them running silently again.

Kylah asks, "Is your communications device working, Mr. Palver?"
Palver responds, "Which one?"

"Have you used that device in the past 48 hours to speak with Vice Admiral Hardin or Mattie Hsu?"
"No, I don't think so."

"We have determined that in the interim after Vice Admiral Hardin stunned two Starfleet officers and was escaping across the resort grounds, he made several attempts to contact two other individuals via his communicator. We know he spoke with one of these people, but the other did not respond." Kylah's gaze intensifies as she looks up at the Rhaandarite. "Given your claim that you barely knew Hardin, can you think of a reason why, while on the run from the authorities, Hardin tried multiple times to reach out to you?"
"Hmm. No, that's quite puzzling to me."

Rangin's scan detects no spores, and no knife of the type in Fastolfe's collection.

Kylah dryly clarifies to Palver that she is interested in any communications device he possesses.

"You only 'don't think' you have spoken to Hardin or Hsu over one of your comm devices?" she asks when he responds to her question, but then lifts a palm. "Oh, of course. Your malleable memory. My apologies, I forgot that your mind has become as porous as a Risian sponge since the night of the murder. Since we have confirmed that Hardin did indeed try to contact you no less than twice during the time when he was a fugitive, I believe it highly likely he was seeking assistance of some kind. Would you not agree? If so, why do you think he expected assistance from you, of all people?"

She tilts her head slightly. "By the way, how could you be unaware that someone was contacting you? I know you were in the library, and of course common courtesy would have prevented you from keeping any audible notifications active. But they would still have come through, at least silently. Do you remember receiving such notifications? If so, surely you could not have failed to check your messages, all this time. A busy man such as yourself, likely to receive important communiques from your various interests?

"After all, your rationale for this sudden departure from the planet was some extraordinarily urgent business matter cropped up involving your investments on... Valca something, III or IV, I believe." Kylah shrugs. "I have never heard of this planet, forgive my ignorance. But I am curious: how did news of this matter arrive? And if you were so concerned about your business matters, I cannot believe you would not have checked your communicators to see what other messages might have come through for you. So kindly explain to me how you now claim to be ignorant of who tried to contact you over the past hour--and without an inkling why?"

Graham's about to accept the invitation to sit down--at the moment all he has in mind is buying some time, and getting Palver talking in the hopes that will provide some angle Kylah and and Rangin could latch on to...

Or, jump on, he thinks, startled as Kylah practically charges forward to confront Palver. As a result, he remains standing: in fact, the doubt he was feeling about not having a clear game plan is replaced by crystal clear purpose. Kylah's inches away from the much larger Palver, and although he hasn't demonstrated any evidence of being a threat so far, the fact is they're here because he very well may have been the hands-on murderer of Wilson.

His adjusts his breathing and gauges the distance between himself, Kylah, and Palver: he notes Palver's handedness and whether he's got a clearer angle of approach to Kylah's left or right. He shifts his body weight accordingly, subtly sliding his stronger left leg ahead of his right, and putting more weight forward on it: like a sprinter, the primary push-off is from the front leg, giving you a step on anyone rocking back to push off the more intuitive back leg.

He notes that Palver hedged on when he last saw Wilson: now that the game is on, we can push on that provable lie about his whereabouts...that's our angle to hold him... Kylah's continued on with a line of aggressive questioning to pin him down on his BS about communications, so he holds his tongue to see how that plays out, however.

Palver looks irritated at Kylah's tone, and says, "All right. This has gone far enough." At once, the three Starfleet officers find that they cannot move.

He continues, "I will tell you when I last saw Wilson. It was in the resort's transporter room, when I stabbed him to death, with Vice Adm. Hardin standing just a few meters away - standing completely still, just as you are now."

When Palver starts to show irritation, Kylah feels a little thrill of victory and turns to glance at Velir. At least, that is her intention. Instead she finds she cannot move her head. What is-- she starts to think, but the question is cut off when she realizes to her horror that the paralysis is complete. Her shoulders, arms, waist, everything. She is a statue.

Fear floods her entire being. Her body is not in her control, and the feeling is all too familiar. I cannot breathe, I--I-- But after what feels like hours but are only seconds, she successfully gasps for air. Her lungs were frozen in terror, not due to whatever has happened.

Palver is speaking, confessing to murdering Wilson, but she hears him as if through a tunnel. She is in a coccoon of her own rising panic. No matter how hard she tries to focus on here, on now, she fails to prevent the memories of two nights ago, when she felt just as trapped. Of course, Jan was closer than Palver is to her now, but not by much. And that is her fault--just as it was in that hotel room--because she purposely moved only inches from Palver.

The Rhaandarite's words and triumphant tone are repulsive and she cannot step back or push away from this sick individual. Not again. Not again! How could he do this? Worse, how can this be happening to her a second time, so soon after the spores and Jan's lust captured her and left her just as powerless? What--where is Velir, where is Graham, are they still here? Her her body remains stiff as a corpse while her mind reaches out wildly. But it is no use. Her own emotions are clawing and scratching out like a trapped cat. She cannot make sense of anything. The others might have disappeared for all she can tell.

As she stares at Palver, a shameful whimper escapes her. Realizing that she can speak, she immediately blurts: "What have you done? What can you gain from this? Let me go. Let me go!" Slowly something he said resonates through the chaos in her brain. "Hardin--no--he could not have been there. I know you killed Wilson, I--I have been convinced for hours, but if Hardin was involved--he was still not in the transporter room. He was in the nightclub--you are lying!"

She stops when she again feels oppressed by the paralysis and Palver's nearness. "Jan, you must help me, please..." "You're a grown woman; you have to make up your own mind. If you want to leave, leave." "But that is just it, I cannot..."

The memories erase whatever rational thought briefly put her words together, and again the terror takes hold of her. "You must stop this," she begs Palver, almost sobs. "Please let me go!"

At the lack of any signs of spores and knives, Rangin thumbs the tricorder off and begins to listen in to the questioning.

Surprised both by Palver's reaction and being frozen in spot, Rangin wonders what is going to happen to them. He had been paralyzed before, an occupational hazard of xenobiology given his travels to a variety of planets, and at least this one didn't hurt as much as the last time he was stung by something vicious. Rangin focuses on himself and briefly runs though the sets of birds on Coridan, to help relax and get his mind working again. What could cause such paralysis? Electro stimulation, a chemical nerve agent, a biological parasite, Rangin quickly thought over the possibilities and also if his different physiology would be more or less affected than the others.

His thoughts only get worse when he realises that Palver is claiming to have murdered Wilson...but alongside Hardin, when Hardin was in nightclub. Was this batch of spores responsible for a bout of insanity? If Rangin could have rolled his eyes, he would. Deciding to stay silent on the grounds of not stirring up the crazy any further, Rangin waits to see how Graham and Kylah are going to react given their experience with Hardin. Graham can handle himself, but Rangin knows how badly Kylah had felt about those missing ten minutes and he hopes she is still holding it together.

As Kylah's words escape her lips the answer is obvious, not well. Then Rangin realises she is turned away from them and can't see them, whereas he is at the back and can see everything around. He decides to speak to at least let Kylah know he is here, although unable to do anything.

"Ens. Kylah is quite correct," Rangin says calmly and clearly, "Vice Adm. Hardin has an alibi for the time Mr Wilson was murdered in the transport room. "

Palver smiles even more broadly. "That would be true, if the time of death had been correctly ascertained by Drs. T'Var and Halsey. But they were wrong, due to a... suggestion I gave them both, after Mr. Wilson's untimely passing." He taps his large forehead. "Rhaandarites tend to have high psi potentials, as you may know. Telepathy is not uncommon, but mind control? Quite rare. I happen to have that power. It is why you now cannot move. You understand, I'm sure, the advantages of mind control in business and high finance...."

He frowns a little at Kylah's obvious distress, and she finds that she can move her head but no more. "Lower your voice, please, dear, or I might have to mute you entirely."

http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Rhaandarite

And since I was sure Palver was dirty, here's where my foresight having Delaney rig up my communicator with a dead man's switch that sends an 'officer needs assistance' call to the Yorktown if I didn't manually reset it within twenty minutes will come in handy, Graham thinks. Or...not. Because I didn't.


I let the team down again.

All at the same time, he's trying to guess the nature of the effect and what options he might have: autonomic behavior's still working, since I can breathe, and we can talk...Graham tries to move his eyes and wiggle his ears.

We can talk...and Kylah already is. At first he's glad, since anything that gets Palver talking and buys some time is better than nothing. Then the panic in her voice becomes apparent, and every second is an indictment of his failure that hurts like a stab from one of her Elasian knives.


Your fault yet again...should have known better, dammit.

His self-recrimination is at least balanced by steely intent: unlike, say, Klingons and Romulans, Security courses at the Academy don't spend a lot of time on the vulnerabilities of Rhaandarite anatomy. But they're going to be able to create a graduate degree program based on what I do to this guy after we get unfrozen...

He nonetheless keeps his voice level. "You'd think being able to control people's minds would mean a master mentalist like you wouldn't have to resort to something so crude as--oh, you know--stabbing people with knives."

Kylah feels a swell of relief at hearing Velir's voice, followed by her sudden ability to move her head. And Graham speaks too, which tells her at least the three of them are all together.

Her continued vulnerability keeps her on a razor's edge of barely controlled hysteria. She swallows, desperate not to shame herself or let the others down. Nor does she want to give this--this bIHnuch¹ anything to gloat over. With every ounce of strength she possesses, Kylah girds herself and tries to process what he has said.

Yet it is only when he claims to have remarkable mental powers is she able to articulate her thoughts, jumping on the back of Graham's comments. "Mr. Graham is right. And I know far more about mental powers than you think, Palver. I have done much research. Nowhere have I read a thing about Rhaandarites possessing any such skill. You are meant to take orders, not to give them.² A race of petaQs³," she spits out contemptuously. Klingon curses are far more satisfying.

"And you are still speaking falsely. Are you claiming to have controlled a Vulcan mind? Absurd. Besides," she adds with a sudden jolt of memory. "Your knowledge is incomplete, Palver. Even if you did what you claim, T'Var and Halsey were not the only doctors on hand. Our chief medical officer was also involved with the autopsy. She saw the results and confirmed the timing to me--narrowed it down further, in fact." Kylah lifts her head--now that she can--and takes a deep breath, trying to slow her words down. "Now, tell the truth. I know you murdered Wilson. You are keen to boast about it, so continue. Tell us you got the weapon. How you rid yourself of the spores. Every step of it. It was a great accomplishment, you need not water it down by forcing Hardin into your scheme. Trust me, he is in deep enough as it is without your embellishing his role."


_______________________________

1 - "Coward" in Klingon

2 - Direct quote from Memory Alpha: "The Rhaandarites were a simple, gregarious people who were much better at taking orders than giving them.

3 - "Slaves," also Klingon

Palver smiles even more broadly. "I am not like others of my race, Ens. Kylah, in more ways than you know. Indeed, I am aware of only two other Rhaandarites who can - who could - control minds, and they are no more. I saw to that personally, years ago. At this moment, I may, in fact, be unique among all of my people - which is just as I wish it. Now, I don't know much Klingonese, but I know those words, at least. Keep a civil tongue, if you please, or I will silence you - perhaps for good."

He gets up, walks to the bar and pours himself a drink - a Saurian brandy, Graham thinks absently. Palver continues, "My operatives stumbled upon Hardin's and Wilson's scheme some time ago, and I intervened - carefully, discreetly, of course. ILG should have the franchise here, and if it does, I will do very well out of the deal. WR&R will never have its franchise renewed, now that the corruption of those two is revealed, even if, as I believe to be the case, Wilson's bosses were unaware of what he was doing. Once I arrived here I took a more direct hand. I took a time-release capsule to relieve myself of the spores, and made Hardin do the same. I cannot operate a transporter, so I also made Hardin beam the knives away from Fastolfe's box, meet me in the conference room after midnight and stand by while I killed Wilson. I made Hardin give a confession, because of course I wished him to 'take the fall,' as you say, for Wilson's death. But his mind was stronger than I thought - perhaps subconciously, he resisted my influence, and gave a confession that, I now see, didn't quite add up. I will not make that error again."

He sips his drink and eases back into his chair. He nods, and each of you sit down, side by side by side - within touching distance, if you could only extend your arms. But each of you now have your hands neatly folded in your laps.

Kylah stares at him. It is too coincidental that he should claim to be the only person on his planet with such abilities--just as she is. But the difference is, she knows, or at least suspects, why she is a freak among her people: her mixed-race parents. What can this creature be up to?

The more he speaks, the more the inconsistencies pile up onto his story. Liar. Why is he still lying? "You first had him transport the knives," she says slowly, wanting to press the point home to her colleagues--they know the timeline and proof of Hardin's activities better than Palver does. Remember what I saw on the video, she thinks, wishing she could broadcast to Velir and Graham. Do not be fooled. "And then meet you after midnight in the conference room. I see. That makes sense." Her voice is softer, calmer. "But I do not understand why you did all this. You are a billionaire. Why is this one small resort worth so much to you?"

She aims the full force of her concentration on him. If he is using something to augment his mental powers, or to control them, he might be receptive to her own abilities. She has used them twice before in times of stress, both accidentally, and both times with people to whom she was close. Can she replicate this now? She must. She must.

Listen to me. Listen to me, Mr. Palver. I cannot speak in front of the others. Her mind is so focused on communicating to him that she winces with the effort. Let them go and I will make it worth your while. The resort is nothing compared to what I can deliver you.

Spitting distance, Graham thinks, noting how close Palver is. I wonder...

He pushes spitting at the guy to the back of his mind--something to try to see if getting him really angry might disrupt whatever he's doing to us.

Apparently resistance is possible, but how? Emotion--Wilson may have resisted, but how intense does it need to be? Palver isn't displaying any sign of effort...what would make it harder for him?

Since Kylah's keeping up a conversation with him, Graham takes the opportunity to try some things out: he focuses his attention and starts running through times tables as quickly and intensely as he can.

Velir tunes out from the conversation that Palver seems determined to have with them.

Mind control, mind control, think dammit, you're the xenoBio here think, how is he doing it, is he really a Rhaandarite, well its probably as possible as telepathy was amongst humans, as in exceedingly rare.

Mind Control...think...he's controlling our muscles through our own central control, the brain orders it and so it is. Ok, that's fine, work with what you have. You don't need a brain to move. Rangin's eyes flick to Graham and he is somehow glad that he can't smile outwardly.

At least Kylah has recovered, she looked like she was at her wits end, I didn't know how she was going to react.

React...muscle memory...instinct. Hmm, ignore the brain and have the muscles react without thinking. Mind Control works on having the brain tell the muscles not to do something. So kick off something that ignores the brain and reacts anyway.

Shame neither Kylah or Graham have a phobia to kick off, no, that wouldn't work, its still a brain thing, need something baser, something more instinctive, someone who doesn't think at all and just reacts to stuff.

Graham is security trained...I wonder if I could get him to react to a threat...without thinking...especially if Palver was right in the way.

Time to wait for the opportunity then. Seeing as we have been allowed to speak, if Palver comes close to Graham, yell out the standard Security warning for an enemy right there and watch Graham attack without thinking and before his brain has a chance to process anything. Even if he is stopped, it may give Kylah and him a brief chance to act while he is off balance.

Rangin suddenly realises he is now reliant on Graham being a hardened trained veteran of the Federation Security forces with years of experience of reacting to all situations...they're space dust or more likely brainwashed guests of Palver when they return.

Needless to say, Rangin has to try.

Kylah finds that Palver's mind is now a smooth and impenetrable wall to her. He definitely "feels" different to her than he did in their earlier meetings, and does not seem to recognize that she is trying to communicate with him telepathically. He says, "I am wealthy, yes, but I always wish to become more so. Holding the franchise to this resort, and more aggressive marketing of the spores, will make me far richer."

Graham finds that he can think about the times tables without any problem. His mental acuity seems unaffected.

Rangin feels like something is... just on the edge of his mind, just out of reach. What the.... It's an odd feeling, and somewhat unpleasant; he isn't sure what it is. He's never felt this way before.

Kylah's breathing is beginning to slow down as she moves past panic into calculation.

She still does not believe this man possesses the powers he claims, not naturally. If he somehow does possess some psi powers, it is quite likely they have been augmented by technology in order to allow him to control multiple people simultaneously. That much is possible.

What remains impossible is his attempt to insert Hardin into the actual murder scene. And why? What is the reason? Is he hoping to implant the idea that Hardin was the actual murderer? Is that what his plans are for us, so that we will leave him alone, and be satisfied with Hardin as the actual killer? Hardin is already guilty of conspiracy, of that she has no doubt. But Palver committed the crime and quite probably instigated it.

Yes, this plan seems almost certain; he will not kill them, he will only manipulate their minds. 'Only.' Her blood runs cold at the prospect, but she refuses to fall back into terror by reminding herself: He is not omnipotent nor omniscient. He cannot read my mind, and he is not fully aware of the evidence we have against him, evidence that is on record. He is making sloppy mistakes in his narrative and the known timeline. It will prove his downfall.

She will let him continue if it means he will inadvertently implant a flawed and easily discounted version of the events. Even if the three captives' minds are tampered with, others back on the planet and ship will recognize the truth. The transporter, the autopsy--neither of them match the facts that Kylah and the others have so painstakingly gathered and researched. She can recite them now by memory, but does not need to: they are all on record.

Palver does not seem to know this. Villa, Kjaerstad, Delaney... even Ferguson. They can identify specific flaws in these absurd details. Palver's hubris will be his undoing.

But Kylah is less interested in proving Palver a liar about Hardin's involvement through the skills of their colleagues. It is far safer for her, Velir and Graham to escape from this situation with memories intact. Whatever method Palver is using to wreak havoc on their minds, Kylah is determined to defeat it. How? How?! I cannot tell what he is using, I cannot gain any access to his mind, not past that barricade, whatever it is. How can I possibly...

These thoughts cease and she inhales deeply. She knows she has alit upon a possible answer. She is an empath; she has powerful Psi skills--too powerful, at times. Usually they are directed outwards. Throughout her life she has tried to block out others' thoughts and emotions whenever they overwhelm her. Unfortunately, with no one to help her understand how such things are possible, she has had only limited success. T'Var was planning to teach her but the lessons were delayed.

But Kylah has an example in the man right before her. Her captor, by his own skills, could unwittingly be her path to freedom.

Palver's blocked mind. She felt it, sensed that smooth wall preventing her best efforts to reach him. Can she emulate it? Turn her powers inward? Block whatever is causing her paralysis?

She needs to buy time. Swallowing, Kylah asks quietly, "Very well. So you desired still more money. I can admit your plan was canny. But how did you remove the spore effects from the other guests? How is Mrs. Hsu involved in all this? And most of all... I still do not understand why you would kill Wilson. With ILG's success assured, why murder Wilson and draw such attention to both yourself and Hardin, your valued accomplice?"

The words out, she lets herself relax for a second before shifting her gaze just past Palver to the window, to the vast blackness dotted with infinite stars. With every ounce of mental strength, Kylah shuts her mind to everything but that view. She imagines it as a velvet blanket strewn with diamonds, a blanket that is now moving forward, moving into the ship itself. First, it shrouds her from the others. Then her body is covered, and finally it sinks in to wrap around her mind.

Once that vision is firmly fixed until she can almost feel the lush black material pressing against her skull, she slowly allows the blanket enveloping her to change from soft velvet to a hard, gleaming stone wall. Smooth. Impenetrable. Neither sight nor sound can reach within this barrier, she thinks, and the truth is, she can no longer see the room, ship or stars at all; she is completely internal.

Her breathing is deep and even. Everything is gone. There is only me. My mind. My body. She continues the chant and only dimly notices the cool sweat breaking out on her forehead. My thoughts are my own. This body is my own. My arms, my hands, my fingertips. They are returning to my control. They are mine. Over and over she repeats this litany. The barricade is strong, as is her will. She fights hard to ensure they can no longer be breached. And hopes she will begin to feel... something.

OK, Graham thinks, higher order functions OK, but no effect either on how I feel or anything visible with Palver by trying to work them overtime...What about lower level, autonomic stuff?


If Graham has any gas at all, he relaxes to see what happens.

Yep, Rangin's probably trying to recall the details of a PhD thesis on psionic phenomena, and you're trying th ol' fart test, Booker...

Rangin isn't sure what is happening, is Palver trying to read his thoughts, is someone else. Whatever it was it Rangin didn't like it.

Oh well, if it was someone else, then it was time to match unpleasant with horror. Rangin replays a moment in his mind, from the Sakathian station, that moment of absolute terror when the door burst open and he was swarmed by those creatures, who promptly tried to eat him. It was still fresh and still giving him nightmares.

Over the last few days it had always bought him out in a complete cold sweat. After all, no-one liked being eaten alive.

Palver says, "Hardin used the transporter much as he confessed to you, but at my bidding. Mrs. Hsu had grown bored of Wilson as a lover, and impatient with his blocking her advancement - as she saw it - in the company. I suggested to her that she would likely become the new resort director if he died. Her mind needed but little nudging in that regard. Why murder Wilson? He was both an obstruction and an opportunity. With his death, apparently at the hands of a Starfleet admiral whom he had corrupted, WR&R could never hope to have its franchise renewed, as I said. And even if I fell under suspicion, I could take steps to see that your bungled investigation went no farther than necessary." He sips his brandy and smiles again. "And here you sit."

Kylah has practically hypnotized herself. She can feel every part of her body and her senses are now unusually acute, but try as she might, she notices no change in her immobility.

Graham finds he has no gas to pass.

Rangin breaks out in a cold sweat all over again as he remembers the horrors of the Sakathian research station. The unexplained feeling he had before is undiminished, however.

Rangin is not sure what is worse: that the feeling is still there, that something just out of reach, or the fact that he nearly induced PTSD in himself. Sweating and breathing harder and louder than he was previously, and not hiding the fact, Rangin struggles to contain his thoughts and tries to calm down.

But one thing does run through his mind: if he can generate enough of an instinctive reaction, fight or flight and not an emotional response, it may just work.

"Mr Palver, I think you have a problem. I don't think I'm reacting well to your mind control."

Palver looks at Rangin with mild surprise, as if just noticing him for the first time. "Hmm. You are... different. Interesting." He cocks his head. "What race are you?"

The Coridanite xenobiologist's odd feeling doesn't pass, and in fact now seems to have grown a little stronger, even as the unpleasantness of the sensation wanes noticeably. It is very peculiar to put into words - he feels looser in his skin, somehow.

He's from the planet Nag in the Carp Nebula, Graham thinks to respond when Palver asks Rangin his race. It's a very brief moment of amusement for an increasingly pissed off Graham: look on the bright side, Booker, Palver's mind control ability will completely justify beating him unconscious. Preferably with one of his limbs...

"I'm insulted," replies Rangin still shivering slightly "that a person of your supposed breadth of business, doesn't recognise where I am from. Doesn't matter, we all have a problem in this room."

Rangin takes a deep breath before continuing. "Recently I was infected by a bioweapon, which I hoped was over. Unfortunately, there was a psychic component to it, which you appear to have re-awakened." Rangin sighs sadly, "If so, I probably have less than an hour, at least as me. The transformation doesn't take long, but you won't be able to control what's left as its predatory instincts kick in. However, it will consider you very tasty indeed, Mr Palver. I'm sorry Kylah, it appears as though you get to relive a few weeks ago all over again. This time make it swift."

Rangin closes his eyes in regret as he tries to recite the symptoms. " Let's see: cold sweats, flu-like symptoms, darkening of eyes, unconsciousness and then transformation. Shortly after that, well I won't care any more and what's left will be attempting to kill and eat everyone on this ship. Heh, and now I'll never find out if spore therapy could cure it."

"Oh well." Rangin finishes quietly, "life was fun while it lasted."

Rangin waits to see what Palver does next. Besides, all Rangin can do is sit and wait for whatever is going to happen...to happen.

Kylah's failure to break loose of Palver's control is infuriating, but her concentration makes her focused and alert. Then Velir's words strike new terror in her heart. She stares at him, her lungs as frozen as her body. She cannot believe this is happening. A flashing image of his barely conscious body during his feverish illnness sends a wave of nausea through her. Not again, not to him... please, let this not be true, please, he has suffered too much already...

And what if Palver decides to kill him? The possibility of never speaking or seeing him again is too horrifying. Kylah cannot help herself, and immediately she sends her newly sharp thoughts over to the man she has grown to care about more than anyone.

Velir, she thinks, directing her anguished mental whisper forward as intensely as any vocal scream. Velir, it is Kylah. Can you hear me? I... I can feel your fear. I cannot explain it, I do not know how, but something is suddenly allowing me to connect with you. She is disgusted that even in this moment she cannot escape her conditioning to hde her true nature.

Swallowing, she continues to attempt communication. Do not speak... do not be afraid, try to focus on my thoughts. Please... please let me know if you hear me?

Palver narrows his eyes and looks more intently at Rangin. He says, "You're lying."

Rangin cannot hear Kylah's thoughts, but he is very surprised to realize that his toes just moved slightly.

"No. No, I'm not lying. It's happening, I...I can feel it." Rangin's breathing quickens slightly as he feels himself move. He may have bought the earlier cold sweat on himself, but now it's not him doing it.

Rangin is afraid, but the last thing he wants to do is break down. He remembers again the Sakathian station when the door gave and he screamed, he doesn't want to die like that. If he is going to go, it will be as a Starfleet officer, facing it as bravely as he can, despite the few minutes left to him. In the end it didn't matter, when he did change, Palver would likely be the first one attacked setting his friends free. At least they could make it quick for whatever was left behind of him.

Wait...I'm going to get eaten by some kind of were-Rangin? Graham thinks. Not how I expected to go out...

Graham begins trying to move first individually concentrating hard on just one and then alternating between trying combinations or one big motion all at once. Might as well try to see if there's a way to push against this paralysis, he thinks. It's obviously not perfect--witness Mrs. Hsu and Hardin not being perfectly brainwashed or controlled.

It's all making sense: they were pawns for Palver. On the flip side, Mrs. Hsu was probably trying to get up here to...get revenge? A better deal? She probably wasn't copacetic with how things went down--but why the hell take the fall instead of playing ball? He would shrug if he could: at least given what we've heard I was on-target with a conspiracy arrest...

From as best he can tell, Kylah and Rangin are seriously upset about what's happening to Rangin. Still, the status quo is unacceptable and he's armed: it seems best to prevent Palver from doing anything drastic to Ranginbefore whatever's happening, hopefully, disrupts Palver's control. I can always stun Rangin and we can get him to Sick Bay, he thinks.

"Hey Palver, did you get a warranty on this whole mind control thing? " he says. "I mean, you said Hardin was resistant, and we intercepted Mrs. Hsu--it seems to me Mrs. Hsu was gunning for you until we got in her way."

Kylah can feel the agitation radiating from Velir, and she is so worried about him that her empathic link is even greater than usual. She wants to scream at her utter inability to do a single damnable thing--she, a person with psychic abilities, is useless in a situation where she should have been able to rise to the occasion.

In addition to being a failure at a weakness she has tried most to conquer in herself, Kylah feels strangely distant from her surroundings. Instead of being an active participant in what is happening, she might as well be a mere audience member forced to watch a play crafted for the amusement of some demented playwright.

As she despairs at her situation, incomprehensibly unable to reach out to Velir despite the fact that she has been able to contact others in times of great stress, she can still sense his alarm and she aches for him, and fears for what might happen. And then...

Her breath catches. She sends her sharp gaze swiftly down toward Velir's feet before glancing up at his face. He has regained some control, she is sure of it. He can move! How? What does it mean? Is it really the Sakathian virus? Or is he somehow... immune? But Coridanites have never displayed any psi abilities before. Kylah has researched such things extensively due to her own strange abilities and knows fully well how few Federation races have ever displayed such skills. Far-flung species, unique societies, yes. But almost none in the Federation itself.

Then again, Rhaandarites are also supposed to be passive, subservient, and without psi abilities either. How can one explain Palver? And myself as well, I am an anomaly. But her differences from other Elasians are somewhat understandable, at least according to her family and the one physician they allowed to examine her. It is a mutation from her birth parents' shameful interspecies union. Is Palver also of mixed heritage?

It does not matter. The truth remains: Velir is either transforming and must get access to the spores as soon as possible, or he is somehow fighting the mental control and must be protected from Palver's attention. If he can act, we might be saved. Or at least two of us might. Someone must distract Palver.

Even as she thinks this, Graham starts questioning their captor. She looks at him keenly. He is a fighter. He is Velir's best chance, if Velir turns out to be ill. Why should he put himself at risk for Palver's wrath in such a way? If anyone is expendable it is Kylah. At the very least, if they all speak up at once he might lose more of his grasp on all of them.

When Graham has finished speaking Kylah spits out: "Do not dare accuse Velir Rangin of lying, you coward. He is an honorable man, something of which you know nothing. It is true, he was attacked by creatures with a contagious virus that turn their prey into vicious beasts--although they were no more vicious than you. Indeed their acts were excusable. They killed because it was their animal instinct, nothing more, nothing malicious. You--you are a filthy criminal who will get exactly what he deserves when the truth is known.

"And it will be known, Palver, no matter how you corrupt our minds. You are not the genius you think you are. You have left too many holes in your master plan. Multiple people outside your sphere of influence already know what you have done--ILG is now tainted and will not get the contract for which you have destroyed so many lives." She lowers her voice. "If you value your life at all, give this up now. Let us go. Or--or at least, let the others go and take me. If money is your prize, I can get it for you. my family is royal and will pay you a bounty worth far more than a contract that is now doomed thanks to your mishandled scheme!"

Palver looks at Kylah crossly, and she finds herself instantly silenced.

In that instant, Rangin senses Palver's mental control of him slip further, and realizes that he can now move even more. Enough to grab my phaser? To throw myself at Palver? He cannot be sure. He tries to flex his toes on both feet, concealed within his boots from their captor, and finds that he is able to do so.

Graham can't fault Kylah for trying to draw Palver's attention and distract him--if that is indeed what she's doing. He's less thrilled about her becoming the target of his ire while he sits helpless nearby.

She clearly made some progress on both as he looks daggers at her and her abrupt silence makes Graham think it wasn't voluntary. "Well, well," Graham says. "Did picking on doddering old men prove too taxing, so now you're turning your attention to tiny young women. Tell me, did you at least give a pencil-neck like Wilson some chance at defending himself, or was that too much for you to stomach, big guy?"

Breathe... Rangin tries to calm himself as he can feel his body start to respond to his commands.

Breathe... He can hear Kylah's words, how she feels about him, it breaks his heart thinking they may only have a few more minutes together.

Breathe... He can hear Graham pick up when Kylah is silenced, is he trying to buy time?

Breathe... If they are silenced, would Rangin have a chance to do something before he turned. Could he?

...

A hide, a hill over looking a lake, Carran National Park, Coridan.

"What's wrong." asked Lextra amusedly.

"Aaah...pins...pins and needles. I've been sat still for too long." Rangin gritted his teeth as he clutched at his leg.

Lextra laughed quietly as she peered through her image enhancer at the lake outside. "I told you so. You need to learn to relax and practice..."

"...says the person with thirty years experience in nature watching." Rangin was busy pounding at his thigh muscle trying to get the feeling back into it.

"You're young, you'll learn. Especially if you want to do any long term hiding anywhere to watch nature quietly." Lextra admonished him. "They are good techniques, you'll get the hang of it...and if you can hurry up we have an incoming flock of something far more interesting than your right leg."

....

Relax... Slowly Rangin starts flexing his muscles silently and quietly to see what will move. At least that way, he would know how far contagion might have spread through his system and maybe he could use it to his advantage after all.

Palver switches his attention to Graham, and his glare at Kylah is replaced by an unconvincing mask of bonhomie. He says, "I won't bore you with the details, Mr. Graham. I long ago learned that my enemies don't deserve a fair fight. Rather, Wilson deserved death, and I gave him that. As I could still give it to you, or to any of you. Don't test my patience."

Taking advantage of Palver's distraction, Rangin flexes his muscles and thinks he can now move his legs and arms. He moves his head just slightly forward and back, hoping Palver won't notice, and finds that he can move it, too. He also feels better now. He is coming to doubt that his Sakathian infection is returning, but wonders if perhaps it changed him somehow. His mind races. Something about the interplay between Coridanite physiology and the Sakathian virus... something a Rhaandarite esper can't quite understand, or maybe control for long....

Graham would shake his head--if he could. Hard to believe but this may be the biggest shit sandwich of my career. Sitting here, paralyzed, dicking around with this douche bag while I'm waiting for some sort of crazed Rangin-monster's fangs to plunge into the back of my neck...

He's fatalistic enough not to feel panic but he's not at all happy about the fact that next after him from the were-Rangin direction is Kylah, while she's likewise defenseless against Palver as well.

"Enemy? Deserved to die? Do tell," Graham says, returning Palver's false bon homie with simulated curiosity. "I thought he was more like an obstacle--a scheming bureaucrat who just happened to be in the way. Or did he boff your girlfriend or something--our boy Wilson did seem to have a problem keeping his hands to himself."

Palver laughs. You can tell he intends it to be easy and booming, but there is a brittle quality to it. He says, "Quite so. Mr. Wilson never met my 'girlfriend,' as you put it, so he would never have had the chance to make any of what I am sure would be most unwelcome advances. And yes, I certainly knew of his tastes in that regard. But I detest indiscipline and disloyalty, and he embodied both; he had become lost in both. In doing so, he was in my way. His life was forfeit. His death served my broader purposes, and thus he deserved his fate."

Rangin stays quiet and still, letting Palver concentrate on Graham who seems to be doing a fine job of provoking him. Must a be a natural talent, Rangin thinks as he finishes slowly testing out each muscle group.

Casting his mind back, he tries to remember what the next symptoms were from the virus. Flu like, well they hadn't happened yet, but it couldn't be too long. Rangin hoped that Palver's mental block wasn't also keeping the symptoms in check, because if he released it, it was going to hit him like a tidal wave.

Think: best way to stop him, phaser at side. Count how long: One, Two: move hand to phaser, unclip from belt. Three, Four: thumb the setting and aim. Five: fire and damn the consequences if it was a little higher than usual. No, he would face those consequences after they were free. Graham could undoubtedly do that it two, but Rangin was not as well practiced.

Five seconds: how could he distract Palver for five seconds?

There were so few things around to distract Palver: perhaps Omicron Ceti III, perhaps the bar, after all Palver was sat down near to them.

Rangin waited to see how Graham got under Palver's skin next before reacting. But every moment longer meant a little more freedom, but also meant the possibility of the virus taking over.

What a fine line to tread.

Stressed over being able to do nothing, Kylah falls in a dead faint.

"Dammit!" Graham shouts in surprise as Kylah appears to failnt. He roars in frustration as he's trying with every fibre of his being to try to stop her from falling--but can't move. "God dammit...!"

"Kylah", Rangin shouts as he hears her collapse. All thoughts of what may be happening to him are gone and he cannot help but glance across, turning his head slightly, not caring whether Palver is watching or not.

Having seen Kylah crumple his eyes and head snap back upright to Palver to the position they were before.

"What the hell have you done to her, your cretinous, despicable hypocrite. Your pathetic and baseless words are matched only by your actions those of a petty, corrupt official. Attacking the smallest person in this room; you're a lying, conniving miserable excuse for businessman whose experience in the field is as obviously limited as his thought processes. You may be able to sit there and act all lordly, but without that ability, you would be nothing more than someone's. Personal. BITCH."

Rangin rages against Palver, not caring what happens next, his only concern is for Kylah and if that means taking down Palver, no matter what his condition. So Be. It.

As Kylah falls, Palver's attention shifts entirely to her, and Rangin feels the Rhaandarite billionaire's control drop away from him at once, as if a light switch has been thrown. He knows he can now move freely.

The instant that it looks like Palver is going to be spending more than five-ish seconds focused on something other Rangin, while Rangin himself remains unnoticed by Palver, Rangin will pull the phaser and fire as he has already planned out.

Palver is just rising from his seat and reaching into his dressing gown's pocket when Rangin's phaser blast stuns him. He falls to the deck in a heap.

Graham feels Palver's control of him instantly vanish.

Kylah stirs slightly.

"Graham, check Palver, make sure he's unconscious. I'd stun him again to make sure." Rangin orders not caring that Graham is supposedly his superior, or for the fallen Rhaandarite he had just stunned.

Rangin immediately drops down to where Kylah had fallen and tenderly picks her up up and puts her back into the chair. "Kylah, Kylah are you alright?", his voice wracked with concern. Unaware if she is alright or not, he gently moves a few of the strands of her hair from where the had fallen from across her eyes. "Please, please be alright," he whispers quietly to her.

With all that's happening, Graham is at one level bemused that something he'd seen in old Earth vids pops into his mind: Well, Rangin ate his Wheaties today.

That doesn't distract him though. He springs up, drawing his phaser with one hand and communicator with the other. "Graham to Yorktown. Palver is our killler. I need Security team, phaser two's, and medical team, equipped with sedatives and portable stasis field if possible, here, now."

As soon as he can stow his communicator he rolls Palver onto his stomach, places a knee in the small of his back, and uses his free hand to search him. He doesn't know what Rangin's phased was set to, so he assumes the worst case, a very light stun: he starts a mental count back from ninety seconds, prepared to stun Palver again within a window where it's highly unlikely he'll wake up.

He's concerned about Kylah, but given the whole Sakathian thing it's possibly a bigger issue that she's being tended to by Rangin. "Mr. Rangin," he says sharply, "your...uh, status?"

"Status. Concerned. Oh wait, you mean my status..." Rangin shakes his head as he gets his tricorder out and starts scanning himself, dreading to see the tell tale traces of an active Sakathian virus as he did before.

"Give me ten seconds, I know what I'm looking for."

"I just need to know if I need to shoot you," Graham replies to Rangin. "Nothing personal," he adds.

Kylah moans a little and stirs in Rangin's arms, but says nothing. She seems to be emerging from her faint, though.

Rangin's scan reveals no indication that the Sakathian virus is active in his bloodstream. His brain scan is very odd, however - his serotonin, tryptamine and 4-alvaelin neurotransmitter levels are all elevated. He feels very good.

Graham finds nothing on Palver other than, in his pocket, a stun gadget identical to the one Vice Adm. Hardin was carrying. Rangin's phaser-1 was set on stun, as is standard procedure; Graham does not know how long this will keep a Rhaandarite unconscious - especially one of Palver's unusual neural makeup. The billionaire seems totally unconscious, though.

Lt. Thalen acknowledges Graham's message. Within minutes, six pillars of transporter energy shimmer into being, resolving into four Security officers (Ens. Mahmoud and three others), phaser-2s in hand, as well as Dr. Miriam Villa, the Yorktown's Chief Medical Officer, and a medtech. The two in blue go to Kylah and Palver, respectively.

Mahmoud looks around. Despite his friendship with Graham, he is crisply professional. "Orders, sir?"

Rangin falls back with a relieved sigh into the chair next to Kylah before calling across to Graham

"I'm fine, there's nothing there. No virus. So very odd readings, some levels elevated but I'm not going to attempt to rip everyone on the ship into tiny little pieces. I'll probably get one of the docs to take a look, see if they can work out what happened. Personally, I don't care, it's over. Also, I suggets holding off on informing the rest of the crew here about the fate of Mr Palver until after we get some reinforcements."

Rangin scans over Kylah, and takes an initial reading before making a disgusted noise. "Kylah should be fine soon, but may be out of it for a while."

When Dr. Villa does turn up, Rangin hovers nervously over her tending to Kylah waiting to see what the outcome is.

Dr. Villa scans Kylah and frowns. "What happened to her, Ensign?" she asks Rangin.

"It appears Mr Palver has certain psychic abilities including suggestion, mind control and probably other applications. He was using them on us to keep us sat still while he monologued about how intelligent he was, how he had planned it all, how foolish and stupid we were for thinking we would ever come close to working out his master plan, and generally covering every bad villain trope you could imagine. Ens. Kylah bravely threw it back in his face, pointing out all the inconsistencies and follies he had committed and that he really was not all that clever after all." Rangin says proud of the stand Kylah had taken. "Mr Palver took it rather badly silencing her rather than listen to the truths she so boldly uttered."

"Please tell me she is going to be alright or I will be sorely tempted to ensure Fellim Palver never uses those powers again."

She stands in her black dress, held closely to a strong male form. Sleepy and powerless to stop the dance, she finds it pleasurable but still not right, not what she intended. At first she thinks she is alone with him, but when her partner--he is tall and light-haired, it must be Jan--turns her in time with the music, Kylah realizes that Velir and Graham are watching. Her skin turns hot in embarrassment and she tries to struggle out of Jan's arms. Though her mind issues the command, her body will not comply.

She demands to be released and begs for help. Jan does not listen, and the others do not move, as trapped as she is. Every ounce of her mental will focuses on breaking free, but his will is greater and he forces her compliance. She is nothing but a rag doll, an object to be manipulated. Suddenly she is seated on the edge of a chair, where her captor looms over her.

The chair is now a bed and Jan is climbing on top of her. Before she can think he has removed her knife, her dress, and her dignity. He smiles at her naked form and she starts to scream again--yet this time there is not a sound. Her very voice has been stripped from her. Only her tearful eyes can plead for mercy. When she opens them, she discovers to her shock that the figure above her is no longer Jan, but Fellim Palver.

No longer content with paralyzing and silencing her mentally, he crams his mouth on hers, muffling even the sound of her breathing; his body weighs her down, and his will completely subsumes her own. At last Palver laughs and in one instant simultaneously invades her mind and body.

She is both physically numb and in utter psychic agony. Knowing Velir and Graham are witnessing this makes it all so, so much worse.

Every time she opens her eyes, the sight changes: one second it is Palver and the next it is Jan. She cannot tell the difference. Maybe there is no difference. To them she is just a body to be used, a mind to be enslaved, and there is nothing, nothing she can do. She knows she should have been strong enough to fight this, which only deepens her shame. The embarrassment, helplessness and terror are suffocating her.

All at once the weight is gone. Now someone is picking her limp body and depositing it back on the chair. Though Palver and Jan have gotten what they wanted, apparently they still are not done with her. Dimly she hears Velir's voice, hoarse with concern. That only makes it worse.

"I am sorry," she moans, blinking her eyes and seeing nothing but a blur of red and blue. "It is my fault, I should have stopped it. Forgive me, I failed, I have completely failed you..."

Graham gestures for Mahmoud and the medical team to pay attention as he opens a channel to the Yorktown.

"Yorktown please implement protocols for a Rhaandharite prisoner with an unknown degree of psionic ability-- Palver's manifested some sort of mind control ability--he held us paralyzed, and caused us to move at his direction. He claims he influenced Hardin and Hsu's actions. Range unknown but three of us in line of sight --other than Rangin, eventually--were helpless to resist. Prisoner was stunned just now, but estimated time to consciousness unknown. He's ready for transport as soon as you are."

Graham waits for a response, adding to the CMO "Dr. Villa, my bag of tricks is limited to holding him in the transporter buffer...or stunning him again...I'm sure I and the rest of Security would appreciate your guidance."

"Ens. Mahmoud, this ship will need to be secured and searched, and the crew interviewed: Palver's used it before, and we don't know for sure whether they are just along for the ride, complicit, or under his influence--Palver's clearly been hip deep in all kinds of bad shit, so I'd like you to take charge of making sure we seize his records and leave things tied up with a bow for the Starfleet investigative team that's on its way."

He frowns, glancing toward Kylah--while glad Rangin and the doctor don't seem to think she's in danger, he's still worried about what the hell happened and whether she's all right. It took guts to go at Palver like that. He's even worried about Rangin: on the one hand, he would have assumed Rangin would be squeamish about using force, but to the contrary, he seems ready to start kicking Palver while he's down...

"I'd like to get the team back to Yorktown...and report in to Vargas and the Captain."

Rangin reaches across and gently holds one of Kylah's hands in both his own as she slowly returns to consciousness. It's probably not good protocol and it may raise Dr Villa's eyebrows somewhat, but at this point Rangin doesn't care.

"Kylah, it's ok, you're back now. You didn't fail anyone, you succeeded. Palver has been stopped." Rangin says clearly to Kylah hoping his voice can cut through the grogginess.

Cmdr. Vargas replies over the comm channel, "Acknowledged, Mr. Graham. Stand by for transport."

Dr. Villa frowns more deeply and asks Rangin, "But why did Ens. Kylah faint? Was it something Mr. Palver did? I see nothing wrong with her."

The doctor says to Kylah, "Just lie still, Ensign. We'll be taking you back to the Yorktown shortly."

Then she says to Graham, "I'll sedate Mr. Palver. No need to stun him again." She speaks quietly to the medtech, takes out a hypospray from her medkit, selects a vial, and injects the billionaire.

Mahmoud replies, "Understood, sir. I know there are eight crew aboard. We'll secure the ship; consider it done." He and his team move out.

Whiloe Kylah is waking up Rangin frowns at Dr Villa. "Nothing. Really? How odd, here are the readings from my tricorder taking several minutes ago. Its not a full medical scan but I did notice a few things." Rangin reads off the data display from his earlier findings. "Heightened epinephrine levels, blood pressure exceedingly high, slight toxic shock in most muscle groups, brain patterns and some chemicals signatures all over the place, even for an Elasian. I would guess that Palver realised he was about to lose control of her and overdid it. Slight constriction to the carotid would have done it and left no trace by now. It was only when he turned his full attention to her that he seemed to completely lose control of me. Before I forget, there are also some readings from myself as well that I can't make head nor tail of. Could you take a look?"

Dazed and disconnected from her surroundings, Kylah is not certain where she is or who is crowding her. She feels someone take her hand and immediately receives a flood of emotions--pleasure, elation, energy--from whoever it is. Instinctively she tries to pull away but cannot. All the talking noises sound distorted, as if she's listening from underwater. One man's soft but firm voice talks for a long time. His tone is calming but she cannot understand the words. She feels the grip around her hand tighten, not painfully.

Something one person said gets through to her at last. "Lie still," she repeats, and shakes her dizzy head. "No, no, I need to move. I must move. I cannot breathe, I--" She blinks and at last recognizes the man holding on to her. "Velir? It is really you?" Lifting her free hand, she touches his face in wonder. "You are not hurt," she exhales. "What--what happened, is Mr. Graham all right?"

Her heart starts pounding again and, grabbing Velir's shoulder for support, she tries to stand up. "Where is Palver? Did he--" She looks down in confusion as if expecting to find herself naked, but then flushes and again attempts to turn around. "Where is he?"

As Kylah struggles up, Rangin lends a hand helping her stand. "Graham's fine and so am I. Can't believe it, Palver must have been more worried of you than he was of Ens. Graham. So very brave, indeed. Without you, we would probably be mind wiped and back on Omicron Ceti III saying how helpful Palver was and that he had nothing to do with the crimes below." Rangin squeezes Kylah's hand in appreciation of her bravery.

"As for Palver himself, he's over there, sleeping the sleep of the stunned and now heavily medicated. He won't be doing that to anyone again."

As Kylah tries to follow Velir's explanation, she stares first toward Graham to make sure Velir is telling the truth, and then down where his tilting head has indicated Palver's prone body.

"I, brave...?" She frowns, trying to remember. "No, Velir. You were the one. I knew you were breaking free. I just tried to distract him--then he stifled me, and I could not speak or do anything. It was too much." Her head shakes over and over again, not wanting to remember how helpless, suffocated and small she felt. "But you were able to move, when Graham and I could not. How did that happen? I knew but could not understand why--"

Kylah realizes what she is saying and stops abruptly, her lips still parted. After a quick search for an excuse, she stammers: "I... I think Palver accidentally pushed some of his thoughts into mine, and he knew his hold on you was slipping. That is how I knew it too. I was clearly too weak to resist his mind control."

This much is the truth, at any rate. Her failure fills her with shame, even though none of the others can possibly understand. "No, I was not brave. But I suppose you were the one to stun him? Then you saved us. It was you." She turns and searches out Graham for support, desperate to take the attention off herself. "Is that not what happened?"

Graham's relieved to sees Kylah awake--although he also can't help but notice that she and Rangin are perhaps having a tender moment...?

He thanks the Security team and Dr. Villa then takes a few steps toward the pair. "Nice shot, Mr. Rangin," he says with a nod. He shrugs and smiles slightly. "I'm sure you must have been tempted to use a wide-angle setting that caught me in the back as well, so I appreciate that you stayed focused on the mission...."

More softly and seriously he asks "How are you feeling, Mr. Kylah? I think you startled us all--but that included Palver, to good effect, as it turned out."

"I feel better," Kylah says quietly. It is not entirely a lie. Her heart is still racing while her head continues to swim, but at least now she seems to be getting enough oxygen. "I wish I had been of more use, instead of..." She shakes her head, unwilling to use the word victim even though that is all she is. "But what I wish most is to understand what happened. Palver gave us nothing but what he wanted us to hear. We must try to make sense of it, for he will never tell us the full truth."

She moves closer to him but tries to include Velir and Dr. Villa in her questions. "Can Hardin's mind be returned to normal? He was obviously part of the conspiracy but I do not, I can not believe he was actually at the scene of the crime. Palver seemed intent on forcing us to believe that he was, one absurd story after another." Kylah's legs seem wobbly and with a whispered apology she holds on to Graham's elbow for support. "Will we bring them all up to the Yorktown to keep in custody? The two in the infirmary, as well as Mr. Hsu?"

The mention of the infirmary makes her frown. A stray thought is bothering her. She looks uneasily back up at Graham, then to Velir. "May we speak for one moment in private? Palver... Palver said something. Something he should not have known."

The tiny hand grips his elbow...but so lightly, so fretfully.

Elizabeth shifts under the covers and moans slightly.

Ten minutes later.

"Look, Booker, it's a new mutation of the virus, but the civilian docs have got it licked, I wouldn't bullshit you about this, she'll be fine."

"In five to seven days," Graham replies to his former shipmate, Dr. Yuri Kurosawa, on the video screen. "Too long." He glances over his shoulder back toward the bedroom of the apartment on Earth he'd only reached on family leave twenty-four hours ago.

Kurosawa frowns. "I know how you feel--I have a daughter too..."

"And she still has a father--even after Tau VI," Graham interrupts. "You must have something better. Tell me you've never slipped an Admiral something out of military stores for their kid..."

The doctor sighs. "Dammit Booker, the relevant shit is stocked in case the Klingons hit us with a bioweapon...I could get in big trouble for this..." He shakes his head. "All right, give mean hour...the meds I'll get to you should get Lizzy back on her feet within the next twenty four."

"Thank you, Yuri," Graham says quietly.

Graham is surprised and momentarily disoriented when Kylah takes his elbow. For an instant he's afraid she might fall, and his opposite shoulder goes so far as to twitch into motion to support her--until he realizes it's not necessary.

He clears his throat. "Uh, well, the arrests for Hardin and Mrs. Hsu clearly stand--they were involved. Hopefully--they can be, ah, freed from whatever influence, and they ought to have a lot more incentive to come clean if Palver's the architect of this thing. And sounds like, whatever his embellishments, he's the worst of the lot anyway..."

He trails off, distracted by the situation: you're an idiot about stuff like this, Booker, so you're probably all wrong. But... after the Ferguson thing, that Jan character...should I be relieved there's a--uh, Kylah and Rangin thing...Or...

Could anyone need to be protected from Rangin?

Well, Palver apparently...

Dr. Villa looks at Rangin's tricorder, seems puzzled and says, "These readings for Mr. Kylah can't be right. There's no way her condition could change so quickly." She recalibrates the instrument. "Hmm. Well...." She sees Kylah try to rise and says distractedly, "No, please, remain on the deck, at least for now, Ensign."

She looks at the earlier scan of Rangin himself and raises her eyebrows. "This is also... extraordinary. Your neurotransmitter readings are significantly elevated, and your endorphins are pegging the meter, too. All right, I want you both back in Sickbay on the double."

She says to Graham, "Shall we all return together, Ensign, or would you rather remain here?"

"Let's go - the ship's in good hands with Mahmoud," Graham replies. "Most of what you said is Greek to me but I agree I'd like these two to get fully checked out ASAP, and I'll start tying up loose ends from Yorktown."

The thought of more scans makes Kylah alert, and she unconsciously tightens her grip around Graham's arm. "Doctor, I am all right now," she says, trying to keep her voice free from the emotions churning inside her. "I was terrified. A murderer was in control of my muscles, he had turned me into a statue and threatened my life, and then suddenly I could not even speak. It was overwhelming, I felt as if he was stifling me, and so I... collapsed. It is shameful to be that weak, but I was, and now that the situation has passed I am better." She turns back to Graham. "Sir, please, I do not want to be left out, there is something I must tell you first. With Vel--Ensign Rangin."

"If its about the case, we had better get it sorted out now instead of after a trip to sickbay or at least, give Graham all the info so he can follow it up." Rangin nods along, "it should only take a minute or two, and besides, I feel excellent. I would hope our abnormal good health given everything is not a cause for alarm, ma'am?"

"OK, ok, let's wrap things up from here first," Graham says nodding. "Please carry on, then, doctor, we'll catch up..." After a brief pause he adds "Mr. Rangin, Mr. Kylah, just give me one second, though...."

He hails the Yorktown crew on OC3 and reports that the situation is under control and they've arrested Palver--"for your ears only, further details will follow."

Using his free arm, Graham hails Yorktown and asks that Cmdr. Vargas re-submit a search warrant request for Palver's ship: "Given all that's happened sir, I expect it'll be a no-brainer, but we might as well dot-the-is and cross-the-t's sir...I've asked Ens. Mahmoud to take control of the vessel for the time being--we'll return to Yorktown shortly."

He also pings Mahmoud: "Ensign, I'm intending to head back to Yorktown shortly--please let me know your status and if you need anything. I apprised Yorktown and asked for a search warrant."

After thinking (and listening to any immediate responses)he lowers his communicator. "OK, I'm all ears."

Dr. Villa says, "You're in very good shape, Ens. Rangin, especially as to neurochemistry." She scans Graham, and says, "There's nothing wrong with you, Ens. Graham, although nothing 'abnormally good,' either. As for Ens. Kylah... I still don't know why she fainted, which is cause for concern... but I can find nothing wrong with her now." She thinks for a moment and scratches her ear. "I suppose a slight delay before we return to the ship would be all right."

Cmdr. Vargas thanks Graham for the update, and will have the Starbase 27 JAG officer submit another search warrant request for the Trimalchio, based on recent events. He says, "Well done and congratulations, Mr. Graham, to you and your boarding party. Be advised, the Pyongyang, with the Starfleet investigative team, is expected to make orbit in the next ten hours, and the Silver Heron, which I understand is carrying the resort's new director and some other WR&R brass, isn't far behind. In any event, I look forward to a more complete report when you get back to the Yorktown. Vargas out."

Lt. JG Haakon Kjaerstad, as the senior Yorktown officer on the surface, has assumed command there, and also acknowledges Graham's message. He passes the word to Ens. Rawlings, still at Palver's guest house, and the others on OC3.

Ens. Mahmoud soon returns to the luxurious sitting room and reports that the Trimalchio is now secure. "We've confined all eight crewmembers to quarters, at least for the moment," he says. "The captain isn't pleased. He said he didn't know anything about Palver's crimes. For what it's worth, I'm inclined to believe him. Palver had asked him to set a course for Valca IV and prepare to break orbit within the hour."

Dr. Villa permits Kylah to stand and walk around the room - leaning on Rangin, if necessary.

It is now 1800 hours. You are all a bit tired and hungry.

Now irritated with Dr. Villa--Are Starfleet Officers not allowed to have panic attacks?--Kylah walks as far away from Palver as she can and shares her thoughts with Graham and Velir.

"I just want to make certain whether there is a procedure to prevent that man from affecting anyone, once he regains consciousness. Until his mental abilities are neutralized we cannot trust anything. And Dr. T'Var should be closely examined as well. Even though I am certain he was lying about influencing T'Var--yes, he may have tried with Dr. Halsey, but the simple fact is that neither of them could have faked the autopsy records without Dr. Villa noticing--we cannot be too careful."

Kylah focuses on Graham. "He told us so many lies, as did Hardin and the others, that the crime and its timeline are still nonsensical. He claimed he cannot operate a transporter. But he must have--one of the first things that made me suspicious of him was the fact that he got here a day earlier than we did, which matches the timing of the transporter signatures in Fastolfe's room. Kjaerstad insisted that those signatures could not have been made the day we arrived, placing them at the earliest, two days before the murder. Then, when he checked with--with a transporter expert on the Yorktown--the engineer stated that the very earliest could have been one day before Wilson died. And that coincides with Palver's arrival. So what did Palver do to create those signatures in a then-empty house, and why?

"We do not know how he removed the effects of the spores from Calvin and Fastolfe, and why he did not use the same method to implicate Ebling; I assume that he purposely neglected adding a transporter signature to Hardin's room so that we would be suspicious of him, furthering his story that Hardin was solely responsible for the crime. Meanwhile, we do not know why he stole three knives from Fastolfe rather than just one, or even two. We have no reason for the abrasion on Wilson's wrist." Kylah switches her gaze to Velir briefly, then returns to Graham. "Further, not to cast aspersions on Ensign Mahmoud's instincts about the verity of the Trimalchio's crew, there is the attempted breach on the hotel's security. Is it not likely that this originated here, on board?"

Kylah takes a deep breath and steadies herself, realizing she is still a bit lightheaded. "Palver mentioned he had operatives aware of what was going on between Hardin and Wilson. That needs to be checked as well--if someone is spying on high-level Starfleet officers, we must learn about that. Or, if the spies were on Wilson's end, then they may still be here on the planet. Finally, Wilson's behavior is not fully explained and I suppose we may never know the full details about his financial dealings, but perhaps Mrs. Wilson can get access to the information if she is his beneficiary. To whom does that Q account refer? Is there yet another Starfleet official in Wilson's pocket? And what of the Hwuen--Hardin and Prolun Jaxo were both evasive on their connection, and more should be uncovered about that before the Hwuen are allowed to leave."

She raises a hand to her forehead, rubbing it again. "I may be forgetting something. I just wanted... I want to make sure we do not forget that there are unanswered questions. You were not here for this, Mr. Graham, but after our last mission, there was much left unknown and due in part to our quarantines, we could not follow up on the facts that eluded us. I do not want that to happen here. This case has some very grave implications for corruption in Starfleet and I... I am not certain we can be sure it stops with Hardin." Kylah again shifts from Graham to Velir and back again. "Do you feel the same way?"

Kylah recalls that panic attacks resulting in fainting can be medically disqualifying for Starfleet service, since stressful situations are of course not uncommon. Fortunately, this is (as far as Dr. Villa knows) the first time it has happened to her.

Does Kylah not wish Ens. Mahmoud to hear what she says?

"Agreed," nods Rangin, "there are a lot of loose ends that make no sense, and you're right, this matter is a whole lot larger than just one murder in a resort."

Graham listens carefully, forcing himself to stay focused despite feeling increasingly hungry and tired. His acknowledgment of Kylah's concerns and Rangn's endorsement is sincere: "You don't have to convince me that Palver's a liar, nor that he probably left a trail of bodies behind him. Or that Hardin being able to get away with graft for so long suggests there might be more rot in the system within Starfleet."

He scratches his head. "All of this should be in your reports...and, of course, god willing, if our arrest--and incapacitation--of Palver makes Hsu or Hardin open up in short order, that's great..." He pauses and shrugs. "But the fact is it's just as likely Hardin or Hsu won't be cooperative until a week has elapsed, or it takes some pencil-pushers a month to unwind the web of financial transactions."

He frowns slightly, recognizing how hard it can be to let go of an assignment--especially when you're young and haven't had to do it, whether willingly or kicking-and-screaming, a hundred times before--but concerned that neither of his colleagues seem to be feeling much satisfaction for having taken down a billionaire murderer with mental powers and what sounds like an extensive history of bad shit.

"Anyway, Pyongyang is on its way to bag up the garbage and carry on any further investigation... After you both get checked out, you've got some time to get every detail into a full report, or, ah even to try to wrap up any loose ends--I'll take your suggestions, there...but, ah, you should feel good now, the team did good work."

Kylah also knows that she's been attacked or stuck in dangerous situations four times in two days, with three of those occurring in the space of about two hours today. So frankly even though Starfleet and Dr. Villa only know about the last three events, they shouldn't be surprised at a tired neophyte officer having a physical reaction to that much stress. If that causes her to be sidelined, Kylah thinks, so be it. She is not hugely impressed by Starfleet's ability to judge fitness for duty in any event, considering Vice Admiral Hardin's venality and the seemingly never-ending line of security officers exhibiting extraordinarily poor judgment.

No, Kylah did not want to include Mahmoud in this discussion.

Kylah bites her lip while listening to Graham, knowing he is speaking from experience. "I do not expect everything to be wrapped in a bow by the time Starfleet's clean-up crew arrives," she says softly. "But I do not like the thought that much of what we know about this--this conspiracy--might be brushed under the carpet. Further... and I know you will not recommend this, but I do wish you would consider it: I would like the opportunity to go down to the planet once more." Kylah lifts her chin. "Lord Fastolfe deserves an apology for the way we treated him."

Rangin sighs. "I'm sure we will hear lots of platitudes about how they will uncover it all, but I've seen what happens with reports that ask more questions than they answer, especially when it comes to high level corruption. They get added to the bottom of someone's pile whose only desire is to keep things as status quo as possible." Rangin looks across at Graham. "You honestly think that anything is going to come of this. The Comptroller General, as corrupt as they come, as headline news. Not a chance. we're going to hear nothing, and be told to be good little Ensigns and forget all about it. Depressing isn't it."

A wry smile crosses Rangin's face, "I hate leaving unfinished work behind, but I doubt I am going to get a choice. So I'll be damned if I'm going to stop at the reason we were originally here, a resort report about whether WR&R should continue running this place. There are also a few things to sort out planetside I can think of that do need wrapping up, one of which Dr Villa can certainly help with answering."

"You know if I can help, I'd be glad to. For now, though, let's get you back to the ship." She takes out her communicator. "Yorktown, five to beam over."

Graham, Kylah, Rangin and Dr. Villa beam back home, along with Palver, whom Dr. Villa has deeply sedated and whose brain function she now monitors with her medical tricorder. Mahmoud and the medtech remain on the yacht.

When you rematerialize, Chief Harrison is behind the transporter console, as is Cmdr. Vargas. Lt. JG Jeremi Collins steps forward to welcome you back. She looks happy and healthy.

"I'm sorry I missed all the fun," Collins tells her shipmates. "Who wants to catch me up?"



eta - if she knows generally what has happened, having been brought up to speed by Vargas, then she wants the dirty details; if Vargas hasn't filled her in, she wants one of the other PCs to do it.

Assume she knows the broad outlines of the mission so far, just as you do from reading this thread.

Before they beam up, Rangin will ask Dr Villa, if there has been any progress on getting Fujishiro spore therapy to see if it would help cure her at all.

Back on board: "Good to see you up and around again, ma'am." Rangin says agreeably to Collins, before nodding to Cmdr. Vargas, "Sir."

"I could fill you in but it would have to wait until after a visit to Sickbay, followed by a good meal. It's been one of those days." Rangin continues dryly to Collins.

Startled at having been yanked from the Trimalchio without any warning--not even a chance to talk to the yacht's captain, much less waiting for Graham to respond to her request--Kylah is even more surprised to see Collins, once the disorientation from the transport has faded. At first Kylah's natural impulse is to wonder how the other woman is feeling, to ask if she is fully recovered.

But then Collins is... well, Collins. An officer whose first reaction to seeing those she left behind on a dangerous mission, all of whom have only just escaped the clutches of a murderer, is simply, "catch me up."

Kylah's respect for Graham increases; he would never show so little concern for those under his command. Of course, she remains sympathetic to Collins's loss--Kylah is not a sociopath, which may be more than one can say for Jeremi Collins and her utter lack of compassion toward others--but the instinct to ask about Collins's health winks out of existence like an extinguished candle.

She says nothing, and her curious expression freezes back into a mask. Collins would not want to hear from her, anyway, probably preferring a report from her fellow Security team member. Or possibly Velir, considering how he at least tried to advise Collins. Not to mention his resourcefulness and valor. Oh, please, please let him get the commendation he deserves! Kylah thinks suddenly, the first pleasant thought she has had in ages. Perhaps even a promotion. He deserves one so much!

Sure enough, he responds cordially. Always the right response. Kylah wishes she had his ability to be diplomatic.

Mostly, Kylah just tries to keep from grinding her teeth in annoyance. She does not want to be back on the ship now. Not just because she is afraid of the medical staff and their intrusiveness, but because there is so little time before the Starfleet team arrives to take over the investigation. And for some reason she wants to ask Fastolfe's forgiveness. She is not certain why this closure is so important to her, but it is. Someone so poorly treated should get a sincere apology.

Collins nods in agreement with Rangin's statement. "Of course," she says, "I'll see you all later." She then turns to Cmdr. Vargas "With your permission, sir?" she indicates the door to the corridor. Jeremi would like to remove herself from the group so she can kick herself, privately, for being so cavalier.

“You want to what to who?” Graham starts to reply to Kylah, on the verge of chuckling, when she suggests apologizing to Fastolfe. It takes him a moment of staring at her, waiting for the acknowledgment she was, of course, kidding not to happen before he fully grasps she’s serious.

Maybe I should idly scratch at my genitalia and drool a little, for Rangin’s benefit, while I stand here slack-jawed, he thinks. After the awkward pause he continues.

“Uh, well, ah, my gut reaction is that Fastolfe deserves to be arrested for assault, but…we can’t rule out the fact that the whole knife incident with Wilson was Palver’s influence, so you might have a point," he's just starting to reply when they're beamed back to the Yorktown.


Thank god Vargas is such a type-a bastard, he thinks, relieved the senior officer didn't waste any time or ask their permission, now that from his point of view the mission was ready to be handed off: he'd also been trying to think how to let Rangin and Kylah down gently. Graham has no illusions that they might well be right, and something fishy could be going on at high levels of Starfleet.

But if there is, whoever's involved is smart enough that we aren't going to figure it out within the next day. He frowns, sincerely concerned about his two younger colleagues--thee benefit of being on a ship like Yorktown is you get to go a lot of places and see a lot of things...but you rarely stick around for the long haul on anything short of a major Klingon incursion...if that's not floating their boat they're in for a lot of let downs...

He brightens up as they materialize and Collins is standing--emphasis on standing, as opposed to lying in a pool of blood or being bed-ridden in Sickbay--looking healthy.

"Ah, good to see you up and around, L-T," he says, although whatever enthusiasm he musters fades as it seems like she's keen to high-tail it out of there.

Why the hell doesn't anybody want to high-five and have a beer? he wonders. He holds out hope for T'Var.

Then he blushes as he remembers the perfume...just in time to catch Vargas' gaze. He clears his throat. "It's good to be back onboard sir," he says. "And it always feels good to nab a bad guy. The whole team did good work sir." He gestures toward Kylah and Rangin. "And we certainly couldn't have gotten the job down with Mr. Kylah's and Mr. Rangin's..." he's not certain what the right word to us is, then it hits him. "Initiative."

Dr. Villa had said she wanted to have Rangin and Kylah checked out in Sickbay on the double; she had already held off for Mahmoud's report and further discussion on the yacht. I have added a little more text so that it is not quite so abrupt.

Cmdr. Vargas nods to Collins, and she leaves.

Dr. Villa calls for a pair of medtechs and an antigrav gurney. Palver is soon put on it, and the group walks through the halls to Sickbay. The First Officer talks to you along the way. He says, "I know it's been a very long day for you already. Again, well done, all of you. After the CMO gives you a looking-over, you may go off-duty, if you like. Have a meal and a shower, if you need it. Prepare your AMRs" - After-Mission Reports - "in time for the Pyongyang's arrival. Your personal effects will be beamed up from the research station. Any questions?"

Kylah moistens her lips in preparation. "Yes, sir. Once I am cleared and allowed to go off-duty, Commander, may I have your permission to beam back down to the planet for a very brief time? I assure you it will not impinge on the case in any way, nor will it cause a delay in preparing my AMR. I wish to conclude some business with one of the guests. It is related to how we--" She swiftly changes her mind, preferring not to discuss Graham's behavior in this context. "--To how I interacted with him. I owe him an apology and I do not wish to leave it unsaid. To do so would be a bad reflection on me as an officer." Kylah looks up at Vargas. "Please, sir?"

Vargas raises his eyebrows a little but says, "Of course, Ensign, if you think it necessary."

Dr. Villa says to Rangin, referring to Fujishiro, "I can't really discuss particular patients' cases for reasons of privacy, Mr. Graham, but Dr. Anderson of the OC3 research station and I have been discussing spore therapy for several days now."

Rangin shakes his head sadly as Collins leaves, one day she may even remember to put her team before herself. Not even a "Hi, glad to see you are all safe."

Rangin waits patiently while they walk to Sickbay. He's curious as to what happened between Kylah and Lord Fastolfe, but he only met him the one time when he was threatening Mr Wilson. He doesn't have any questions for Vargas. At this point he just wants to get checked out and then relax some. Then again, if Kylah wanted someone to accompany her to the planet surface while she spoke to Fastolfe, well it wasn't as if he had any better plans for the evening.

Farther down the corridor, Collins turns to watch as the others exit the Transporter Room and head to Sick Bay. A couple of tears run down her cheeks, and she wipes them away with anger. I'll meet them in the Mess Hall and apologize then, she thinks. They got the job done and they're safe. You think I could have said something less idiotic. She continues to chastise herself as she returns to her station.

"Shower and a meal" positively booms in Graham's ears and is lit up by neon lights in Graham's mind as Vargas says it. He's rarely felt uncomfortable in a Starfleet uniform, but something at that moment makes him eager to be casual clothes as well.

With Collins gone and having complimented the members of the team who were present in front of Vargas, there seems to be nothing in the way of all three: shower, change, and food. Vargas has barely finished when Graham mumblers "thank you, sir" and makes a beeline for his quarters.

The First Officer says, "Carry on," and leaves for the Bridge.

In Sickbay, Dr. Villa gives both Kylah and Rangin a full scan and, soon, a (tentative) clean bill of health. She nevertheless hands each a small biosigns monitor, flat, matte black and about ten centimeters long, to clip inside their uniforms for the next 24 hours, and says, "All right, you're free to go, but let me know immediately if you notice any unusual symptoms."

Kylah is feeling better; Rangin still feels great.

Graham's cabin is just as he left it. Mahmoud isn't there, obviously.

Collins sends a text message to Graham Hey, Booker. Please let me know when the three of you go to Mess - I want to meet you there. She pauses before sending, rereading the message a few times to be sure it isn't in the least inappropriate, then sends.

"Thank you ma'am, if there is anything I will let you know." Rangin responds to Dr Villa.

As they leave, Rangin turns to Kylah and says, "If you want any company when you head back down to Omicron Ceti III, let me know. And if you would prefer to go alone, I quite understand."

Relieved to have received permission and having an uneventful medical exam, Kylah nods. "I would be grateful to have you with me, at least on the journey. Although I think the apology is something I should tender to Lord Fastolfe myself." She faces Velir and sends him a look of concern. "But if you are tired, please do not push yourself. I realize I do not yet fully know what exactly happened after I lost consciousness. I can go alone if you need to rest. Otherwise, perhaps once we are down on the planet, you can tell me everything."

A thought occurs to her and she turns back to Dr. Villa. "Excuse me, doctor. What happened to Dr. T'Var and Lt. Delaney? Have they been beamed up yet? Are they all right?"

Graham's surprised to get a message from Collins. He's not really sure why: it's not like we were enemies. But we also weren't close. I guess she probably wants to get back into the swing of things, he thinks. I suppose I would too.

He debates how to respond. In truth he doesn't know what Kylah and Rangin intend, and it strikes his as unfortunate they aren't all keyed up to have a drink together. On the other hand, Rangin surely wants to spend no more time with me than duty demands. And Kylah...

As he strips down to shower, he's troubled by the question of whether he should have determined what she was up to, and whether he should have at least tried to figure out if she was OK--beyond what Villa could determine, he thinks: based on the...ramifications? trauma? of shit that happened on the mission.


He doubts he would have made headway, anyway, and in any event she's back on the Yorktown and as safe as one could be, all things considered, he thinks as he tunes the sonic shower.

What the hell, he thinks, pulling out a bottle of single-malt from his effects and downing a shot of whisky while the shower comes into optimal range of the parameters he's set. He's glad Mahmoud's not there--not that they haven't seen each other naked before, but trooping around in the buff to grab a drink would have been a little weird.

He blushes slightly, the thought of a high-five and a drink with T'Var popping to mind under these conditions (not that it would be the worst thing in the world at all...).

Just before he hops in the shower he replies to Collins. Hey I'll be heading to mess in about 20, will let u known.

Dr. Villa says, "Dr. T'Var is still on the surface. I don't know about Mr. Delaney; I haven't heard anything about him in awhile." She calls the Bridge. Lt. JG Soerjosoemarno, the duty Communications officer, says, "Mr. Delaney is on OC3. Would you like me to put you through to him?"

Collins reads Graham's reply and lets out a nervous sigh.

With an uneasy glance toward Velir before redirecting her gaze toward the doctor, Kylah shakes her head. "No, thank you, Lieutenant. I will contact him when I am on the planet." She hesitates and takes a step closer to the other woman. "Dr. Villa, I do no know how much you were told while I was unconscious, but Mr. Palver claimed he used mind control on Dr. T'Var and Dr. Halsey, forcing them to fake the autopsy findings regarding Mr. Wilson's time of death. I am fairly sure that was a lie, an attempt to shatter Vice Admiral's alibi and frame him for the murder. I mean, given your own involvement in the autopsy, running the scans yourself and later confirming the time of death with me... not to mention Dr. T'Var being a Vulcan with great control of her mind. But even so, perhaps Dr. T'Var should be checked out to ensure she is exhibiting no signs of having been harmed? And Dr. Halsey too?"

Rangin waits patiently to one side while Kylah finishes talking to Dr Villa. At this moment he feels fine, like he could go the whole day again, although if that meant getting soaked thrice over, attempting not to be killed by a lightning and being psychically manhandled by a Rhaandarite who was not supposed to have those kind of powers, then he'd pass and go do something more interesting instead.

He never did get to go on that hike, probably wouldn't get the chance now.

After twenty minutes of staring into space, Collins heads to the Mess to meet Graham.

If he's already there, she'll join him at his table, if not, she'll pick a table reasonably away from any others who may be there.

Before she sits, she takes a tray and accepts whatever the dispenser is dispensing this evening, along with a cup of coffee and an apple.

Dr. Villa looks startled to hear about Palver's possible mind control of Drs. T'Var and Halsey. "I was involved in the autopsy, yes, but not every part of it," she says. "Since there were three of us, we split up responsibilities. I was focused on tissue and fluid collection, not determining time of death or some of the other tasks. When I spoke to you about that later, I just referred to Dr. T'Var's report. I agree that the doctors should be checked out... perhaps we might even arrange for mindmelds? Hmm. Let me think about that."

The CMO sees to the transfer of Palver to a bed in a small, secure recovery room, and arranges for ongoing sedation to suppress his higher brain functions. "We can't keep him here forever, though," she says. "I'll have a word with the Captain."

Mess Hall 1 isn't very crowded, and Graham hasn't shown up yet. Collins can get whatever she wants from the replicator in addition to her coffee and apple.

Kylah shakes her head, confused by the doctor's sudden wavering. "That is--with respect, Dr. Villa, that is not how I recollect things. We were told that T'Var was in charge of collecting the body fluids, while you were in charge of analysis--running a full battery of toxicology scans and tests--and that Nurse Perry assisted you as well, so she is another witness. Further, was Dr. T'Var speaking falsely when while still on board the Yorktown, she told us that she, you and Halsey consulted one another and, given the facts, concurred on the time of death?"

Graham showers and changes into a well-broken in gray tee-shirt and a pair of comfortable black pants just a cut above workout clothes. He passes a mirror and frowns.

Dammit. These missions where we mostly talk-talk-talk make me soft and flabby, he thinks, although he realizes he probably hasn't really physically changed in just two days. Nonetheless, he feels the need to work out, but hunger prevails.

He heads to Mess Hall 1.

(Assuming Graham arrives and sees Collins)



Graham approaches Collins at her table. "Hey, L-T-, mind if I join you?" he asks, not entirely sure she'll say yes given the weirdness earlier. Or for that matter his own stupidity back on OC3 when she was in command and, in hindsight, obviously dealing with some medical shit. But he tries to smile encouragingly. "Bearing in mind, I intend to eat like horse and am inclined to drink myself silly."

"I may join you in that drink," Collins replies "Since the, uh, thing" she cannot bring herself to say miscarriage "I haven't been myself. I'm afraid I said the wrong think to you all in the transporter room. It's not that I wasn't concerned. I was trying to lighten the mood. Get you all to smile." Jeremi sighs. "I screwed up. Like I screwed up on OC3. I'm glad you're all okay and that you solved the murder. I've recommending all of you for commendations."

Dr. Villa looks even more puzzled. She says, "Well, that's what I remember having happened. I reviewed what she and Dr. Halsey had found - or said they had found - and written down, as to time and death. From what they said, the estimated time of death seemed right. I didn't check body core temperature, lividity and so forth myself. I certainly don't think either of them purposefully lied or tried to mislead me. All the more reason, I think, to have them checked. I wouldn't want it to turn out that Palver had somehow... conditioned them to carry out a longer-term plan."

Kylah is beginning to wonder if there's a single department on this ship headed by a competent officer. The CMO ran a battery of tests on blood and body fluids and didn't notice whether the time they ceased functioning matched up with what the body looked like? Blood that has ceased flowing through veins is one of the means by which time of death is identified--Kylah's unfortunate experience with her parents' deaths has taught her enough about that.

Further, should a CMO who was in attendance through the entire autopsy have concurred to a time of death without personally checking the data, even so much as to test the body temperature? When a murder has taken place?

She shakes her head. "No," she says grimly. "I would not want it to turn out that Palver had conditioned them to carry out a longer-term plan either. That would be very, very bad indeed. Good luck with checking them out." Or passing the job off to some underling and taking his word for it, most likely.

Tired of dealing with fools, Kylah turns to glance at Velir before leaving the room. When they are further down the corridor on the way to the transporters, she murmurs to him: "First she blithely accepts your sudden ability to shake off mind control yet is extremely perturbed by my having the audacity to lose consciousness after all I have experienced. Now this. I do not know which department is worse, Security or Medical. Which would you say?"

Rangin thinks for a moment or two, open his mouth to say something, thinks better of it and closes it slowly again.

After walking a little further, he has worked out what he is going to say. "I think the term you are looking for is either more relaxed or more sloppy depending on your point of view. I'm surprised by how things ran and interacting with others while on OCIII. In some ways it is a little friendlier than USS Lexington, in other ways it feels not quite up to scratch as if Command are not paying as much attention as they should. Ultimately, they are responsible for the running of the ship and the example set to the rest of the crew. Commodore Wesley would have had a field day here though."

"But, they're only human," Rangin smiles at the implication, "some good, some bad. As a Constitution class vessel though, I'd say not everyone here is good enough and of those some will learn and should stay and some won't and should be removed. There is a real bias in some areas, which is going to get highlighted in my report on OCIII at least. Beyond that, who knows, but I certainly hope it improves. I don't really want to wind up in the worst performing crew in the fleet, especially on a ship of this status."

"Well, ah, look," Graham replies, "obviously you've had a lot, uh, going on..." He shifts awkwardly in his chair, wondering how to either cheer her up or at least change the subject. "None of us exactly covered ourselves in glory down there," he says, shrugging. Only some of ourselves covered ourselves in blood, though, comes to mind. Fuck.

"Uh, look, anyway, tomorrow's another day, right?" He smiles. "Who knows where we'll be sent--after the way this went down, we're due to be ordered, loaded for bear, into a red-hot combat zone only to be greeted by flower-bearing hippies riding singing pink ponies."

He gestures. "What will you have? I think I'm going to wash down one hell of a big steak with one hell of a strong whisky."

"Whisky sounds good, thanks. At least I can drink again." Collins tries to put a laugh behind that statement, but it comes out flat. "Hippies on singing ponies, huh? I look forward to it." and manages to smile at the mental image.

"Great!" Graham says, mustering up some enthusiasm, and clapping Collins on the shoulder as he stands. "I'll get us set up."

He walks over to* secure the drinks.

*to the replicator? or is there any human service in the mess?

There are no mess stewards. Graham can order what he wants - within reason - from the replicator.

Graham orders two doubles, neat, of a peaty single-malt scotch from Earth. After reflecting a moment, he orders a bone-in-ribeye, mashed potatoes, and creamed spinach. He starts to whistle softly as he puts the items on a tray. A moment after stepping away from the replicator, he turns back and racks his brain for something to get to cheer Collins up.

He sighs as he comes up blank, but decides a cupcake would be a tried-and-true strategy. He returns with the drinks, meal, and a cupcake to the table.

Collins picks at the Pasta Primavera she'd ordered from the replicator while Graham is away from the table. She takes a few bites, then sips some coffee.

Just before they reach the same transporter room they arrived in, Kylah raises an eyebrow at Velir. "You chose the wrong profession, Ensign Rangin," she says with a brief tilted smile. "You should have been a diplomat. Only human, you say. I fear my experiences with humans have been almost universally poor. I somehow expected better from a ship with such a reputation. When I think of how many times my life has been put in jeopardy because of the errors made by people who are supposed to be on the same team as I... It worries me.

"This time," she says with more determination, "I vow I will not stay silent in my report, as I did after our first mission. And yet I have little faith that there will any repercussions for the way my orders and suggestions were continually ignored. If it were possible to send my complaints to a higher authority, I would--but now we must worry about just what sort of corruption lies at even the highest level, given..."

Rather than continue, Kylah just shakes her head and enters the transporter room. She nods at the transporter engineer and explains that they have been given permission to beam back down to the planet, and asks to be transported near the hotel's residential houses, if possible.

Graham sits across from Collins, rubs his hands in anticipation, and loudly cracks his knuckles. He places the drink in front of Collins, then, after a brief pause, the cupcake.

"I thought this--well, I don't know if you like sweet stuff at all, but I figured lots of folks like cupcakes, so I hoped this would cheer you up, L-T." Graham says, picking up his own drink and offering to clink classes.

Collins looks from Graham to the cupcake and back again, and smiles. She raises her glass to meet his and says "Sláinte!" After they take a sip, or in Graham's case, a slug, she says "I know you're not one for the touchy-feely stuff, so I'll skip that." She takes another sip. "I was off, on this mission, I know. How could I have done better?"

Graham nods, acknowledging her toast.

After a moment, he speaks.

"Hell," Graham says, following his first drink with a second. "Maybe I'm not who you should be asking." He frowns and rubs his chin. "I really let you down out of the gate." He looks down at his glass for a moment, then takes another drink.

"Well, look, it's a pretty green team, right, and you're all pretty new to working together. The things is, when you're in command, on the one hand, people have no choice but to listen to you--even if they start to think they've got better ideas. But more important, they usually really, really hope you know what you're doing, because they may not have a better idea about how not to get embarrassed in front of the higher-ups, or injured, or killed--so they want to feel like they can count on you."

"So displaying uncertainty, or changing your mind, is a tricky thing. On the one hand, charging ahead like a bull-necked idiot is likely to cause trouble. On the other, it implies maybe they shouldn't count on you... You've got to try to always be as confident and decisive as you can--at the same time, you need to create conditions where folks are telling you what they think, and when you change your mind it feels like it's because one of them came up with a whizz-bang great idea, and isn't it reassuring that our commanding officer--despite all his or her expertise--is so good about soliciting input..."

He shrugs. "Or you could just get meaner and more intimidating like Vargas, and shut everybody up that way," he adds.

Collins chuckles. "Oh yeah. The Commander would love the competition in the 'who's the bigger hardass' game." Collins laughs and holds her now empty glass out for a refill.

"First you've got to high-five me," Graham says, holding up his hand. "Uh, just humor me on this one..."

Collins complies and smacks Graham's hand maybe a little too hard.

"Now that's the spirit!" Graham says, nodding briskly and standing up to go get another round. We'd be in chest-bump territory now with Mahmoud or Rachel Weinstein, he thinks, but he's not at all sure Collins would react well to that, so he settles for an encouraging pump of his fist.

OK, Booker, he reminds himself, that last one was a double--just one more, you're not trying to drink Collins back into Sickbay, you're trying to help the two of you unwind.

He brings back a single pour for each of them, and leans back a bit in his chair rather than downing it in a gulp. "Just, ah...I'm sure you'll be all right L-T, one you get your legs under you."

Chief Harrison beams Rangin and Kylah down to the park near the guest houses, not far from where Wilson's body was found.

"Yeah," Jeremi agrees. "I am itching to get back into the action, but I keep getting side-railed by my emotions, or hormones, or ...." She looks at Graham intently. Do I trust him? I'm going to need a support system in place, someone I can run to who'll stop me or at least talk me out of it, but I don't know if Graham's the one for the job. Screw it, gotta start somewhere, right? "Can you keep a secret?"

Graham keeps his face impassive. Crap, is this going to be more drama? Graham thinks. I haven't finished my steak yet... Well, let's face it Booker, you're not the Starfleet Psychological Association's picture of sweetness and light either, so don't throw stones...

"Uh, time bomb attached to the warp core, not so much, but otherwise..." he pauses. "What are, ah, friends for, right?"

"This has to stay between us." Collins begins, "I mean Dr. Villa knows, but she's keeping it out of my file." She pauses and takes a sip of whisky. Very quietly, Jeremi says "I am going to go thru withdrawal from a synthetic hallucinogen. I am fine. No DTs or anything like that, and it probably won't be an issue for a couple of months. It wasn't a daily habit, I only used a couple of times a year, and only when I knew I'd be off duty for a few days. But I need to quit completely. And I'm going to need someone to turn to when I get crazy." She looks at Graham, hoping to see empathy or at least concern. "I'm hoping that can be you, my pseudo brother."

"Diplomatic corp," Rangin eyes go distant for just a moment and he remembers a few things. "No, I don't think that would work somehow."

After they have beamed down, he looks across at Kylah, "So where to. I guess Fastolfe's house is that one over there, though you might want to check to see if he is in. Still want me along when you meet him?"

Graham winces slightly. Pseudo-brother. Was that what I was to my real sisters?


He exhales slowly. "Well, if Villa knows then of course, there's no cause for me to be telling anybody else, anyway--not that I was a planning to" he says, slowly. "But...ah, more important," he continues, doing his best to look sympathetic and supportive. "I've got my own...uh, history with more traditional substances." He glances down and taps his glass, then looks back at Collins. "So I know how things can get...tough, or...out of control..."

"And how some help can come in handy...so, yeah, don't worry, I'll watch you ass...uhhh, back, L-T. This time you can count on me."

Collins smiles, grabs Graham's closest hand, and squeezes it. "Thank you." She pauses, and playfully adds "I might even let you win a game of one-on-one for this."

Kylah is briefly distracted from Velir's words by the impact of standing so close to where the dangerous part of their mission began. He was right here, she thinks, and automatically aims her attention at the red Victorian house not far in the distance--the one Palver had stayed in. "To think he planted Wilson's body right near his own house," she says softly, almost to herself. "How clever and malicious. Both a double-bluff to deflect suspicion, and a way to keep an eye on his trophy. What a manipulative monster."

She shudders and refocuses on Velir. "Thank you, but I should speak to Lord Fastolfe alone--although I do not think his attorney will leave his side, nor will his bodyguard, so it will not really be alone at all. Knowing you, there is probably some unfinished business you would like to check up on?" Kylah smiles and checks her chronometer. "Perhaps we can meet back here in... say, fifteen or twenty minutes?"

Dr. T'Var enters the Mess Hall. She sees Graham and Collins and comes over. She asks, "May I join you?"

"Yes, please." Collins reaches for one of the empty chairs and pulls it away from the table for T'Var.

"That should be fine, I may be longer. I could go and check in with Lt Delaney, or Lt. Cmdr. Ebling or even Dr. Halsey, but frankly the only thing I've missed seeing here is the old colony itself. I'd prefer to see it in good weather instead of being in the middle of a rainstorm." Rangin replies.

"I can dead run it in less than 5 minutes, so I shouldn't be that long, and besides I can go over the hill this time. See you back in twenty, twenty-five or so. Good luck with Fastolfe. If you need me, just call."

Dr. T'Var says, "Allow me to get a cup of redleaf tea, please, and I'll be right back."

The grass is still a bit wet and Omicron Ceti is steadily setting - perhaps only about 20 minutes of daylight remain - but Rangin is able to reach the old Sandoval Colony on foot without difficulty.

A little embarrassed, Collins turns to Graham "It's okay, right? If T'Var joins us? I mean I haven't got any other secrets to spill, so I thought it'd be a good change of topic. You two can tell me about the mission."

Kylah agrees with Velir and then watches him leave, enjoying the relative peaceful atmosphere created by the waning light, the scent of the damp grass, and Velir himself, walking toward the colony--this time without fear of danger, she hopes--to satisfy his keen curiosity.

Her automatic smile dwindles as she heads toward Fastolfe's familiar blue house. It seems months since she was last here; so much has happened since. Reaching the door, she presses the chime and hopes she will find someone home.

Graham shrugs expressively. "Of course, the more the merrier, right?"

He briefly wonders whether or not Kylah did in fact follow through with her idea to go back down to the planet to apologize to Fastolfe. He frowns slightly, then returns to his steak--albeit a little guiltily for not confirming either way. Probably not, he thinks. We were all given the green light to go off duty. And there's still a whole Security team down there, anyway.

As Rangin tops the hill and looks down towards the old colony buildings, he wonders how different they will look in the gloaming. Catching his eye is the thin wisp of smoke rising from somewhere within the colony and as he gets closer he can see a few people milling around and the gently smoking remains of one of the buildings.

One of the historic buildings marking where the first surviving colonists managed to live on what had been consider a deadly planet and it was gone, up in smoke, and Rangin didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It must have been destroyed when Graham and his troop had tried to apprehend Hardin, and was so indicative of everything that had happened since they had got here.

Rangin shook his head and turned away back to the hill. He may be back sooner than expected, but he just didn't feel like looking any closer. In fact, the sooner he was gone from this planet the better.

Half way up the hill, Rangin turns back for one last look and sits on the hillside looking down again at the buildings and sighs. You just couldn't take Ens. Graham anywhere, could you. Uncontrollably, Rangin begins to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Whereas Kylah and he had merely stunned the person they were firing at, Graham and his team had to burn down a house. It was no laughing matter, but that just made it all the harder to stop.

After a few minutes, Rangin lies back in the twilight breathing hard, wiping a few tears from his eyes and feeling better for it. When checking his chronometer shows a few minutes left before he is to meet Kylah, Rangin picks himself up off the slightly damp hill and brushes himself off, before turning and beginning the walk back to the resort and Kylah.

Kylah. At least, there was one good thing that had come out of the mission.

Dr. T'Var returns with a steaming mug of tea, and sits down. "I am pleased to see you looking so well, Mr. Collins," she says. "I hope you are feeling better, too...?"

A very large Pacific Islander-looking man whom Kylah has not seen before opens the door of Lord Fastolfe's guest house. "May I help you?" he rumbles.

Rangin's walk back to the resort is uneventful.

Blinking, Kylah hesitates only for a second. "I beg your pardon," she says to the stranger. "I am Ensign Kylah, from the Starfleet ship Yorktown. I am looking for Lord Fastolfe--is he still staying in this residence?"

Collins smiles. "I'm not quite at 100% yet, but I'm close. Getting back to work is helping." Jeremi hopes she is giving no sign of her inner turmoil.

"He is," the large man in the doorway says.

Dr. T'Var sips her tea and smiles a little. "I am glad to hear it. And you are well, Mr. Graham? I understand Mr. Palver confessed and you captured him."

"That is good to hear," Kylah says, somewhat slowly. "Could you please ask him if he will see me? I have some news that I believe he will be glad to hear, and also... I also wish to speak to him personally. If it helps, tell him I am alone. Most of my colleagues have left the planet." After a hesitation, she adds: "And if he wishes his attorney to be present, of course I understand."

The man says, "One moment, please," and closes the door. Kylah notices dusk is falling fast. After a few minutes the man returns. "This way, please," he says, and leads Kylah into the same first-floor sitting room she'd been in before. Lord Fastolfe, in a dark suit, is standing near Miss Adjetey, who is seated with a datapad in her lap. The rock star nods at Kylah and gestures towards another chair.

Trying to hide her awkwardness, Kylah gives a return nod to both and, before seating herself, greets them. "Good evening, Lord Fastolfe; Miss Adjetey. Thank you very much for agreeing to see me." She sits, runs her hand over her thighs to smooth her skirt, and takes a deep inward preparatory breath. "I do not know if you have heard, but I wanted to let you know. We have finished our investigation into Mr. Wilson's murder, and have made arrests. The culprit has confessed, as well--unasked. He was holding us hostage at the time, so there was no coercion..."

She realizes she is saying too much and shakes her head, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously. "An official Starfleet Investigative team is on its way here and will be finishing things up. The resort will also get a new director." And assistant director, and possibly a new head of security as well, but of course Kylah does not add this information. "And the Yorktown will be leaving shortly. Most of us are already back on board, except for a few guarding a few alleged accomplices. No doubt you will be glad to see the back of us after everything..."

She lifts a hand, fluttering it weakly at the darkening sky outside the window as if trying to gesture toward the Yorktown. "Anyway, I thought you deserved to hear the news. I do not think you will be bothered again. Perhaps there will be some need for follow-up witness accounts regarding the stolen knives--I still do not know or fully understand the point of stealing so many, but sadly I do not think I will ever have the answer to that. You might be able to learn what was done to rid you of the spore effects--" On an impulse, she adds, "You might be able to obtain some damages from the assailant. A civil suit might be warranted, and frankly the culprit is not lacking for funds... Of course, I am not an expert on such things and whatever you do is up to your best legal advice," she says with a glance at Miss Adjetey. "As I said, I do not know the whole story yet. But...

"But I do know that at the very least you are owed an apology," Kylah says in a rush of an exhale, returning her solemn gaze to Fastolfe. "I feared our ship would leave without anyone on our crew speaking to you again. That is why I came straight here, right from sick bay, because I--I do not believe in shirking responsibility. You were treated like a suspect--no, like someone who was presumed to be guilty--and I do not think that was right. It certainly warrants an appropriate apology. I tried to treat you fairly, but when I did not, it was wrong and I am very sorry for it." She looks down for a second, embarrassed. "I wish to say more, partly about what--what transpired between us--although I would prefer to do so in private. But I suppose you will prefer that Miss Adjetey remain?"

Fastolfe looks at Adjetey and something unspoken seems to pass between them. Despite her fatigue and hunger, Kylah has a sudden strong impression of the longstanding friendship and confidence between the two. Fastolfe coolly says to Kylah, "Thank you, Ensign, for coming here, and for your apology, which I accept. If you have anything else to say, I would prefer Miss Adjetey to remain. You may speak in complete candor in her presence."

Kylah's heart sinks and she keeps her eyes focused somewhere near Fastolfe's shoulder. "Yes. Well. It... it is about how you--how you were when we were alone. The romantic advance you made," she blurts finally, feeling her cheeks predictably turn aflame at having to discuss this in front of Adjetey. But she came here for this reason and she will not back down now.

"You misunderstood my intent in coming here, assuming that I--that I wanted what you did. And then I reacted harshly and defensively, more so than your attempts to seduce me deserved." She again brushes her hair away from her burning face.

"I tried to explain this almost immediately afterward, but you were not in a frame of mind to listen. The truth is, I only threatened you because I had just experienced an--unwanted encounter. The night of the murder. When it happened I was not in a position to defend myself. I could do nothing, and I did nothing, and..." Kylah shakes her head, not really at anyone. "Your behavior brought all that back, and this time I reacted as I wish I had with the other man. Except this was not the same event. There was no need to attack you. And I want you to understand that, I want you to know I am sorry, because..."

To her horror she realizes her throat is tightening painfully and her eyes have begun to blur. Quickly she stands up, wringing her hands behind her back. But she is steadfast and forces herself to continue. She half-laughs / half-chokes, and wipes her eyes angrily. "I am sure this seems absurd to you. I am less than nothing in your life. You meet thousands of women and seduce them or are rejected by others, and all of this must seem a tempest in a teapot to you.

"Nevertheless, I refuse to behave the way I have seen others act. Many of my crew insulted and attempted to demean you; they believed they were right and thus will not apologize. Just as the man who did not pay attention to my wishes took advantage of me; he thought I was 'enjoying it' and thus he did not apologize, even when I told him otherwise.

"But one should acknowledge when one has behaved badly. Apologies matter. Expressing grief at having wronged someone, even if you did not intend to... Ideally one should fix what you did wrong, but sometimes that is not possible. All that is left are our words to redress things. Or the person you wronged will never feel closure."

Though miserable, Kylah stands as straight as possible and finally, finally manages to look Fastolfe in the eyes. "So for accusing you of attempting to assault me, and especially for threatening you with my knife--a callous thing to do given how Mr. Wilson was murdered... I apologize for these as well. This time, I am not apologizing on behalf of my crew and me. The responsibility is mine, and mine alone. And I hope you know I am sincere, or I would never have said such things in front of Miss Adjetey if I had any choice in the matter." Biting her lip, she shakes her head again. "That is all. I wish you well. Both of you."

She hesitates and, remembering that Fastolfe is human, holds out her trembling hand for him to shake, if he chooses.

"Uh, yeah, well, it was pretty weird," Graham replies. "But it worked out. The three of us--Ragin, Kylah, and me--were being held, helpless, by Palver while he stroked his ego telling us how smart he is." He shakes his head. "Only something Rangin--something that the two of them feared was related to the Sakathian mission--caused some kind of biological reaction--or, ah, something--that shook Palver's mental control loose."

"Dr. Villa seemed to think Rangin was OK. And I'd bet Palver has a trail of people he's at the least manipulated and I'd bet money killed a kilometer long behind him." Graham shrugs. "At least everybody arrested was clearly guilty of something. Hell, even the victim was kind of scumbag." He chuckles slightly. "Makes you feel good about coming to work in the morning, right?"

Fastolfe seems rather taken aback by Kylah's long statement, but then firmly shakes her hand and says, "Again, my thanks, Ens. Kylah. Be well in all your voyages to the stars." Miss Adjetey says nothing. The large man who let Kylah in ushers her back out again, and she emerges from the guest house into near-darkness.

Dr. T'Var nods. "I found over the years, Mr. Graham, that the universe contains very few total innocents, and very few absolute monsters."

"That mind control thing," Collins chimes in, "I didn't know Palver's kind had that ability. The only time I've heard of that level of control, there was a computer or a remote device involved."

Kylah feels shaky and emotionally numb as she stands near the house, looking down at the ground. She does not know what she expected, but Lord Fastolfe acted nothing like himself--he is practically a different person than he has been throughout the rest of this mission.

At least she did her best to express her feelings. If Fastolfe did not care, it makes no difference; Kylah said what she had to. What she needed to.

And of all the people to whom she might have revealed her secret, Lord Fastolfe is probably the safest--albeit the least-likely. She will never see him again, and he will not waste another thought on her, much less tell anyone else. In a way it is a relief to have said the words and know they might as well have been whispered into a void.

And yet... at the same time, it is also chilling. Giving them voice makes what happened even more real.

With a sigh she shifts her gaze upwards and notices how dark it is, considering it was twilight only moments ago. She feels cold and alone. But she will go and find Velir; she will not be alone then.

The sun has set as Rangin walks briskly back into the small area where he left Kylah and can see her outline across the far side of the green. Feeling relieved that she is here, he makes his way across to her.

"How did it go? Did you manage to do what you needed to?" he enquires politely.

Dr. T'Var says, "It is rare but not unheard-of throughout known space; I believe he may be unique among Rhaandarites. Then again, he is the only Rhaandarite tycoon of whom I have ever heard, either."

Kylah is briefly startled when she first hears the soft tramp of footsteps, then notices someone's dark shape coming up to her a few yards away. But before two heartbeats have passed, she senses a warm, stable presence and knows it is not a stranger. Velir's voice, when he speaks, is not even necessary to confirm his identity.

She moves to him and, extending her arm, curls her fingers around his, very different from the tremulous way she reached out to Fastolfe. "I think so," she says, drawing closer. "As much as I could expect. He accepted my apology, at any rate. He is much changed from the man we saw three days ago, or even early this morning. But this place has affected many of us, for better or worse."

She is not thinking only of herself. The grim shadows of Wilson and his family, of Mr. Hsu--perhaps even Mrs. Hsu, depending on how much truth was in Palver's latest version of his exploits--haunt her. And Collins suffered too, although not, she hopes, as a result of her being down on the planet. Not that the why of such a loss will matter much, Kylah suspects sadly. Then again, it might; the forlorn question of why stopped occurring to Kylah's mother only after her fourth miscarriage.

Kylah's hand tightens reflexively around Velir's, and in addition to the physical warmth, his concern and compassion for her radiate even more strongly through their touch. Yes, despite all the tragedy, pain and fear that have been part of this mission, something good did transpire.

Now, walking with him toward the main area of the resort, she pauses when they are halfway between the lights that illuminate various sections of the landscape, and thus not very visible. With a swell of courage she would not possess if they were on the ship or in the light of day, Kylah turns and impulsively leans her body into Velir, embracing him and resting her cheek against his. "I am so glad you are here," she whispers, closing her eyes. "Safe and sound. And with me." Her heart beats faster with a little worry. "I am not presumptuous, am I? Things will be different with us, now? We are... we can try to be together?"

Graham shrugs and shakes his head. "Anyway, I don't know how Palver did it...I'm sure smart folks will figure it out and drug him up or whatever--heh, hopefully something unpleasant--to keep him from doing it again." The he frowns slightly. "Most days it feels like there are too many absolute monsters chasing too many innocents, Doc."

He takes another sip of his drink. "Let's talk about the fun stuff...I mean, how about that fire, right?" he says dryly, shrugging at the same time.

She gives a slight smile and raises her tea in a toast to Graham. "Indeed. They never told us in medical school that the practice becomes considerably more interesting when a house is burning down around you."

"Wow." Collins chimes in. "I really did miss all the fun, huh?"

Graham a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. "Well, you missed...stuff...that's for sure."

He sighs. "I doubt Kylah or Rangin are going to nominate me for Officer of the Year Award." He shakes his head. "You shouldn't sugar coat anything in your report, either, Doc. Uh, not sure if Vulcans do that, but...in any event, don't beat yourself up, L-T. I could sit here and beat myself about about a bunch of things. I'm sure I will, later while I write my report. But..." He stretches and his shoulders audibly pop. "At my age, 'Sis'," he says, glancing at Collins, "you have a lot of really big fuck ups under your belt to keep things in perspective."

"Missions aren't always pretty but the good guys won one today."

"Thank you, Mr. Graham," Dr. T'Var says. "I will of course be candid in my AMR, but I suspect you'll have nothing to fear from it."

"Okay, then, 'bro'," Collins says, forcing a laugh, "with my two, I'm off to a good start." Collins gets up, and picks up her tray. She motions to the others to put their trash on it. "I'm going to take a walk, maybe by Observation, then head back to my bunk. Thanks for the drink and the ear, Booker. See you both in the morning."
She disposes of the trash appropriately, and exits the Mess.

As she nestles in next to him, Rangin can feel her warmth set against the chill that is beginning to settle in the air.

"Yes. Yes, from here on, we can try to be together. Or as it is on this night, right here and right now, we are together. OCIII has not been the happiest of places to be, I wish there was a way to leave on a good note. So far, the best part of this mission, present company excepted of course..." Rangin squeezes Kylah's hand and kisses her on the cheek "...was the lunch we had and to think we have to return to the delight's of the Yorktown's galley and miss out on one of the expensive five-star repasts on offer here."

Rangin smiles in the darkness and wraps an arm around Kylah drawing her closer. "You...you wouldn't consider a last drink here would you, a little way to say goodbye to this planet and to try to end it on a good memory. Just me and you?"

Collins sees Delaney entering the Mess as she is leaving. He looks glum.

The lights go on around the perimeter of the park as Rangin and Kylah cuddle. A man is walking along the pathway a few dozen meters away; they do not recognize him.

When Velir's lips brush against Kylah's cheek, she smiles and sighs contentedly, feeling the strength of his arms to be a haven she is loath to leave. This is not a position she is used to--literally or figuratively. She has no idea what it is like to have someone to care about, who cares about her. Will life on the Yorktown finally be bearable, even pleasant?

How will they even be together, how will others react if they know? A sudden surge of protectiveness makes her hold Velir tighter. She does not want others to know about them. But while the ship is large, the community within seems small. At the Academy, no relationship seemed to escape the keen eyes and gossiping mouths of the cadets, or--as Kylah could tell--the minds of the staff. Can she and Velir retain some privacy? Collins and Cooper certainly could not. But perhaps they did not try.

Worry about that later. We are not on the ship yet, she thinks, closing her eyes and kissing Velir high on his own cheek, then murmurs in his ear in response to his suggestion: "A drink, yes, and perhaps more than that?" When she notices the lights turning on, she moves away a little shyly and glances down to check her chronometer before she continues. "I am famished. It is still early, and I have kept copious notes on this mission throughout. I do not think it will take long to write my report. Perhaps a meal would not go amiss?"

She clutches his hand again and starts forward, tugging him along with her playfully. "And not just Otherworldly again. Let us try the French restaurant, the one none of the others dared go into. A small indulgence after what we have been through." Then it suddenly strikes her that she is presuming a lot about Velir's finances.

Smoothly she adds: "In fact, you deserve all the indulgence. You saved our lives--or at least our memories, depending on what Palver's true plans were. So I insist dinner is my treat. It is the very least I can do to repay you, unless you can think of some other special wish I might grant. You have but to ask, Ensign, and I will fulfill it." She flashes a teasing smile back to him before returning to face the path. Her mind is busy wondering: What gift would a man like Velir wish for? He seems very grounded, nothing ostentatious would suit him. A handsome silver bracelet? An antique book or sculpture?

Collins stops and turns. "Lieutenant?" she addresses Delaney, "what's wrong?"

"Kylah, the only thing that I could possible wish for this fine evening is the pleasure of your company, nothing further could possibly be asked for. In the future perhaps I might wish for, nay desire, more. But all I would ask now is just one pleasant memory of this place before we leave."

Rangin follows her slightly down the path. "Now French sounds excellent and if it is as good as Otherworldy, I am certainly looking forward to it. Shall we?"

Rangin gestures down the path to the restaurants.

Kylah is amused and delighted by Velir's old-fashioned formality and happily enters the resort to find their destination. Although something tickles the back of her mind as she mulls over his words. 'I might wish for, nay desire, more...' Her eyes widen with understanding just when they reach the entrance. Did he think I was offering... Blushing, she bites her tongue to avoid blurting out I did not mean that! Velir would not pressure her and even if he assumed she was flirting with him that way, he was only joking in return. Probably.

In any event, this will be the first dinner of many, she hopes. Kylah is certain that as things progress, there will be plenty of time to talk to him about such matters.

Assuming they are met by a maître d' at the restaurant, Kylah will ask for a table for two. She glances around the restaurant, trying to see what the food is like and also to note whether the tables are full. Have the guests returned to their normal routines?

Delaney forces a smile and says, "Just a lot on my mind, I guess. Glad you're up and about, though, Jeremi." He is trying to seem upbeat but not doing particularly well at it, she thinks.

En Francais is a sleek, elegant restaurant, offering the finest in French and New Parisian dishes. It is perhaps two-thirds filled. The guests seem to have returned to their normal routines, if indeed they ever left them. Kylah and Rangin are soon seated and menus - without prices - are put in their hands by an attentive waiter in a crisp black-and-white uniform reminiscent of an Old Earth tuxedo.

"Thanks." Collins smiles back. "Do you want to talk about it?" She's not sure why she asked, and half hopes Delaney declines the offer, but she'll listen if he wants to talk.

He sighs. "No, thanks. I need to get to Engineering and put out some fires. Not literally."

"Okay, then." Collins tells him, "Have a good evening."

Rangin accepts the menus from the waiter, thanks him and lets him know they will order in a few minutes. Looking at the menu, Rangin raises an eyebrow as his heart sinks. Although French makes everything sound so very good, the descriptions of the dishes are certainly florid and grandiose and have half a dozen things on it Rangin is fairly certain he would never want to eat. He is happy for other animals to chow down on anything and everything, t that doesn't mean he wants to join in. He also isn't surprised the wine list is a bible in its own right and he is unsure what would be good to drink.

Looking across at Kylah, who seems to have a better understanding of the menu, he remembers back to the last time they ate on shore leave. But it's doubtful this restaurant has the same on offer. On the other hand...

Rangin places the menus back on the able. "Kylah, It's been a long few days here. If you wouldn't mind, surprise me. With luck, the food can try to make up for everything else that has gone on."

* * *

Kylah's gaze flicks upwards to stare over the menu at Velir, and at his words she feels a little thrill. It is flattering to be trusted, and... well, she wants to impress him. Not to show off, exactly--that has never gone well for her. But to judge his taste accurately and thus please him.

...And, yes, to show confidence and self-assurance. If she was taught anything while growing up, it was how to host guests. Once she became the oldest female in her House, that role fell to her.

First, when the sommelier arrives, she orders a bottle of Chateau la Barre '53, a champagne of excellent vintage. Assuming the sommelier returns and pours as expected, it will then be the waiter's turn to ask if they are ready to order.

When that happens, Kylah lowers the menu and responds: "Oui, je voudrais commander maintenant. Comme hors d'œuvre, mon ami prendrait les gnocchi de pommes de terre et poireaux... En fait, moi aussi, s'il vous plait?"*

She looks back at the menu, using her fingernail to point at the offerings. "Comme plat principal, il voudrait tournedos de boeuf, chou-fleur et truffe noire finement gratiné. Et moi, je prendrai le roulade d'agneau au romarin à la sauce au vin rouge. Merci."** She smiles and hands the waiter her menu.

Kylah then turns to Velir, reaching for her now-filled glass. "To start with, I chose the potato and leek gnocchi--for both of us. And for your main course, since I know you are no vegetarian, I thought you would enjoy the fillet of beef with cauliflower and black truffles. Does that sound good to you, I hope?"

* * *

While the waiter is accepting the order from Kylah, Rangin nods appreciatively of the meal she has ordered, simultaneously trying to keep his jaw from hitting the table as Kylah orders in what he can only think is fluent french. After he has left, Rangin looks back in amazement to the lady sitting opposite him.

"Where did you learn to do that? The meal sounds delicious as well, I'm sure it will be as fine as anything the resort has to offer. I'm almost surprised to find that some parts of the experience here are fit for purpose given everything we have found."

Looking around and seeing the happy guests and the efficiently run restaurant, Rangin shakes his head bemused by it all. "You'd think nothing had happened, that everything was still running smoothly. I wonder what answers you would receive if you asked the guests what they thought of the resort instead of us having to poke around." Stopping and chuckling to himself, Rangin continues "Listen to me, going on about work, when I should be praising you for your fine choice and excellent company."

He holds the champagne flute up and looks across to Kylah, inclining his head slightly, "Cheers!"

* * *

Kylah lifts her glass. "To good fortune," she says softly, and sips, her eyes remaining on Velir. The champagne tingles sweetly on her tongue and she is careful not to drink too much. "As for my French... I have always been able to learn languages easily. It is a diplomatic advantage, since the art of understanding people in their native tongue has been taken over by the universal translator. There are nuances of dialect and meaning that technology cannot match. And people are flattered by the effort. It is a gesture of goodwill."

She shrugs slightly and contemplates Velir's other thoughts. "The resort itself is run relatively well--although I cannot forget the laxity of the cleaning service when it came to Wilson's suite and linens." The memory makes her grimace, as does a belated realization.

"Do you know, Velir... Our mission... it was really a farce. Whatever recommendation we made would have mattered little: Either Wilson's bribery would have prevailed, or Palver's. The matter truly depended on whose corruption was more effective with Hardin."

After a hesitation, Kylah lowers her voice. "...And who knows who else on this board shared in the ill-gotten wealth? At this point we do not know how far this poison has reached. I almost wonder if Hardin will be safe, wherever he ends up. Then again, if corruption has gone that far, he may escape punishment entirely. Nothing would surprise me now. I will be honest in my report, at any rate."

With another drink of the champagne, she shakes her head. "No more business. Velir, I have been so curious... How did you break free of Palver? I felt so helpless, but you... You must have remarkable mental will to do so. You have spoken little of your past, but I know things on Coridan could be terribly dangerous. Did you... have you been in such a situation before? Held captive, like that? Forgive me if it is too personal."

* * *

Velir considers the drink in his hand looking distantly through the bubbles as they rise up through the clear liquid held within. "I...I have no idea what happened or how," he answers after a little while with a sigh, "I wish I did, but nothing I know of makes any sense. When it comes to things like that, I am nothing special."

A wry smile crosses his lips and then fades as he remembers what happened. "I do know I was scared. I honestly thought that our last mission had come back to haunt us, though fortunately, that was not the case. As for happening before. Yes, yes it's happened before." Velir shudders as he remembers the outcome, "It was not pleasant and not a story for an occasion such as this."

Blinking a couple of times, his then remembers back to the last time he had been paralysed. Smiling, he continues, "However, the last time I was paralysed you might find more amusing and, although I was not that amused at the time, I can look back on it with fondness."

He puts the drink down and looks around in time to see the starters arriving. Unfolding the napkin and neatly placing it on his lap, Velir accepts the food being placed in front of him with a gracious "Thank you."

"Now where was I, hopefully this won't put you off your food, but I was assisting in cataloguing some large herbivores..."

* * *

Kylah listens intently to Velir's words, surprised that he is still uncertain as to how he got free. She starts to assure him that he is, indeed, very special, but from the look on his face she does not wish to interrupt. Nor does she press him on whatever unfortunate experience he had earlier that so disturbs him.

Instead she just nods, thanks the waiter when their gnocchi arrives, and starts to eat--but only after encouraging Velir to tell his story. As he recounts the tale, she smiles, and laughs... and all the while hopes that whatever darkness has surrounded Velir's life, he will never know such a time again.


-----------------------------------


Rough translation:

* "Yes, I would like to order now. For the appetizers, my friend wishes the potato and leek gnocchi... in fact, I (will order that) too, please?"

** "For the main course, he would like the fillets of beef, with cauliflower and finely-grated black truffles. And I will have the roulade (rolled pastry) of lamb with rosemary and red wine sauce. Thank you."

Delaney nods and goes on his way.

Dr. T'Var finishes her tea and excuses herself, leaving Graham alone.

Rangin and Kylah have a delicious meal together. The waiter returns with the dessert menu, which has eight enticing items listed.

Instead of taking the shortest route to her cabin, Collins decides to go around the deck the long way. She chooses a crisp, rhythmic pace for a bit of cardio before turning in for the night.

Graham remembers the perfume he bought for Lt. Bennett and wonders if it has been beamed to his quarters. He the wonders if he should have himself beamed into space in order to avoid dealing with it. Did it seem a good idea at the time, Booker, or was it always obviously dumb?

Shaking his head, he busses his tray and then heads to his quarters. He secures an old-fashioned pen and paper and writes a note: To Lieutenant Cecilia Bennet--he underlines "Lieutenant"--Congratulations, BCG.

Now what do I do with it, he asks himself? He checks the duty roster for Bennett's schedule.

Collins has a brisk walk and feels pleasantly tired by the time she gets back to her quarters. Kylah is not there, of course.

Bennett is off-duty at the moment, according to the duty roster.

"...And so finally," Rangin is saying, "they applied the antitoxin and after a couple of minutes I could finally move again. Of course, that didn't stop them trying to take last picture being taken of me with my arms wrapped round Jace's shoulders. They realised the anti-toxin was working faster than expected when I started to strangle him. He took it in good grace though and he did make up for it for the rest of the time I was there. Yes before you ask, I do have a picture of that. No, you can't see it. Yet."

Rangin sits back in his seat having finished the story, which had been told in bits and pieces through the meal. "I must admit the meal was excellent, and I have really enjoyed it. And I must say thank you for listening, I hope it didn't bore you too much."

Accepting the menu for desert, he can pick out the one thing he recognises, "Mmm, ice cream, la glace," he notes from the options arrayed in front of him. "I wonder what is special about the version here."

* * *

Kylah is still smiling from Rangin's storytelling abilities. He is an excellent raconteur, and his self-deprecating humor as he described the scene--even though the paralysis must have been highly unpleasant--is charming.

She cocks her head at an angle while she scrutinizes the menu. "I can tell you what is special about at least one option. That parfait is weighed down in rich chocolate sauce, white chocolate truffles, rare Altairian nuts soaked in Saurian brandy, and edible gold-pressed latinum."

Her eyebrow lifts. "It must be worth two-day's stay at the resort all by itself. All for show. At my cousin Elaan's wedding, the cake was coated with the edible gold-pressed latinum, and it added literally no taste. Its sole point was novelty and decadence. Typical of Troyius--and many aspects of this resort."

She closes the menu and, when the waiter arrives, orders a pair of contrasting desserts--one a miniature triple-chocolate mousse gateau that practically has her name on it, the other a tarte Tatin with baked pears, almonds soaked in brandy--French, not Saurian--and honey-vanilla ice cream.

"We can share, I hope," she says when the desserts arrives. Though mostly sated from her delicious lamb course, she has left room to indulge her sweet tooth. The difficult part is not wolfing the mousse down all by herself; It is not the Elasian way to hide one's appetites or enjoyment of food, but Kylah remembers her roommates at the Academy sharing notes about how little they ate when out with their boyfriends. Perhaps she should emulate them...

But one taste of the heavenly chocolate erases that strategy from Kylah's mind. She closes her eyes and nearly groans at the explosion of pleasure on her tongue. Then she digs in.

* * *

Rangin looks across at Kylah, who also seems to be enjoying her dessert and wonders what stories she might have that she could share. Rangin still doesn't know that much about her, other than her gift of languages. "Kylah, if you wouldn't mind, perhaps there is something you could answer for me. You're obviously excellent at languages", he says as he gestures to the delicacies in front of them, "but when we were facing off against Mr Palver, I'm sure you were saying something in Klingon. What was it, and whereabouts did you wind up picking that up from? I don't remember any classes on it at the Academy."

* * *

Kylah's fork freezes on its way to her lips. She forces herself to complete the mousse's journey from plate to her mouth, giving herself time to come up with a response. After swallowing a bite that now might as well be gold-pressed latinum for all she can taste it, she slowly lowers the fork and pays more attention to the silverware than Velir's questioning face. "I told Palver he came from a race of menials. A petaQ," she adds in a near-whisper, not wanting anyone to overhear.

"Yes, it is true, there is no course in Klingon language at the Academy. Although there should be. Understanding how a people express themselves leads to comprehending how they think. As for me, I do not quite remember where I learned..."

No, he will not believe such an obvious lie. Kylah sets her fork on the plate with a tiny clink before she reaches down to raise her napkin, wiping some nonexistent chocolate from her face. "No, I do recall. There were some Klingons present at a function or two on Elas. We are very close to their border as you probably know, and this was long before we were approached by the Federation. I was young, I guess I must have overheard them speaking amongst themselves. They also sang, and their war ballads are very... catchy."

And this allows her to change the subject. "Music is very important to me, it is like another code or language to be unearthed. I wish I had been able to hear some of the entertainers here. I understand the guest singer who performed at the club was--was very good."

That topic dies on her lips as well. Far too much a reminder that on their first evening here, she should have been dancing to that very singer at the nightclub. Instead she allowed those plans to be swept aside by a much more intimate dance... "But it is getting late," Kylah says, a bit too loudly, forcing a smile as she still does not look up at Velir. "Perhaps we should finish up?"

* * *

Rangin looks across at her with a slight touch of concern. He can tell she is being slightly evasive but doesn't want push the point. She may know Klingon, but she really doesn't want to say where precisely she learned it from. Another mystery about Kylah. Then she mentions the singer, the nightclub and for a brief moment he vividly remembers what happened there. But no, this night is too good to ruin with such thoughts. He finishes his dessert quietly and then neatly places the cutlery down. After one last sip of champagne he looks across and smiles "Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was most delicious and I'm happy to find at least one part of this resort has been trouble free. It is a shame to leave it and have to write a report."

* * *

With a quick nod, Kylah lets herself relax and accept Velir's compliment. "Thank you as well. If only the rest of our mission had been so unblemished." She asks for the check but pays no attention to it and uses her thumb to pay the bill, whatever it is. The waiter is about to pull her chair out for her when Velir does so himself. Kylah has never quite understood this ritual--surely only the most infirm person would need assistance at pushing oneself out of a chair?--but accepts it with another murmured Merci to both men.

Once they have left the restaurant and are back in the cool night air, Kylah takes a deep breath. The resort grounds are now dotted with lights, and here by the restaurant the surrounding gardens are particularly beautiful. She looks up at the sky, able to see the ship in orbit--and Fastolfe's Chariot as well, unless she is mistaken.

"I have hated this place," she says quietly, the words pulled from her almost hypnotically as she hugs herself. "Yet I do not want to leave. There have been such conflicting experiences. Things I will never forget, both bad and good."

* * *

"I know. I have had the same thoughts." Rangin hesitates, looking down at her face. Half is bathed in shadow, dim even in the pale, blue-white starlight, the rest reflects the golden warmth of the restaurant's lanterns. Her stark beauty is emphasized either way, but the dichotomy of her appearance seems a metaphor for both this mission and whatever battle is going on inside her.

"But I can think of one good thing that came out of this", he murmurs quietly to himself. Gently he slips his arm around her shoulders. Not just because she is obviously chilly, of course. He is careful to put only the slightest pressure on her, almost a question... which she answers by leaning against him, her head falling against his shoulder. He can feel her sigh, and he hopes it is one of contentment again. Hope. Rangin closes his eyes and remembers when he last allowed himself this much hope. Perhaps this time would have a different resolution. Then he blinks and tries to relax thinking that right now, the beautiful young lady at his side is all that matters.

It might be a defensive impulse, a need to move past what had happened and start afresh with the present, but Velir cannot help himself: he lifts his hand to Kylah's face and with a delicate touch tilts her to him. Her impossibly dark eyes stare up at him and he says, almost urgently: "May I kiss you, Kylah?"

* * *

Kylah is so close she can see the stars reflected in Rangin's eyes. Something is bothering him as well, but it is inchoate and she will not press to read more of his emotions than are shown through his expression and unconsciously through his touch. She has never pushed toward his feelings, showing more restraint with Velir Rangin than with anyone she has ever met. Perhaps this forced control against her overwhelming mental impulses is why, even before he asks, she is already aching to connect with him in some physical way.

Wordlessly she slides her arms up around his neck and presses close against him, kissing him tentatively. Only a few seconds pass before she moans softly at how delicious he feels and tastes, and she dares to run her hand through his hair, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss.

She knows this magic will end soon and they must soon beam up. But now is all that matters.

Collins enters her cabin. Although just tired enough to sleep well, her mind starts racing. She still has to apologize to Rangin and Kylah, but she is not at ease with them the way she is with Graham. She has not been at all happy these last few days; she hopes mending fences with her crew mates will help fix that. Then there's Ben. She has no idea what to do with that relationship. Maybe it's time to move on, or maybe he wants to dump her. She dreads their next meeting.

Collins is relieved to see Kylah has not yet returned. She unpacks her things from her brief stay on OCIII, and places the Mazine's bag on the dresser before going to wash up. She comes out of the head, absentmindedly picks up the shopping bag and puts it on her bunk. She sits down next to it and just stares straight ahead for a few minutes. Without looking at it, she picks up the bag and pulls out, two?, boxes. She opens the smaller one and sees the diamond and emerald earrings. Sighing, she thinks I should not have accepted these. They're gorgeous, but... Jeremi stares at the earrings a bit longer, then closes the box and picks up the slightly bigger one. This one must be Kylah's, in my bag by mistake. She stands up, intending to place the unopened box on Kylah's bunk, but curiosity gets the better of her. Slowly, she opens the box and sees an elaborate and at the same time tasteful diamond and emerald bracelet, a perfect match to the earrings. Stunned, she sits back down with a thud, dropping the box on the floor. After staring at it lying on the floor for a few moments, she starts to cry, and mutters "No, no, no." over and over.

Graham stares at his note. It look like it was written by a five-year old, he thinks. My handwriting never has been any good.

He underlines "Lieutenant" again, as carefully as he can, and then after a moment crumples it up and tosses it to the floor.

I'll just give her the damn box in person, he concludes. He calls the Communications duty officer on the Bridge. "Where is Lt. Cecilia Bennett, please?"

Kylah breaks off the kiss for but a moment and sees, several dozen meters away, Jan Švehla and two other men walking through the gardens towards En Francais. They do not appear to have seen Kylah and Rangin.

As Kylah leans back from him, Rangin can feel her tense, her fingers tightening into his arms. "Is...is something wrong? Have I done some..." he asks gently before realising she is looking past his shoulder as she shrinks into him as if to hide from what is behind. What had been a woman whose very touch showed happiness and excitement was now one who is radiating nervousness, perhaps regret or even fear. But undoubtedly, Kylah does not want to be here.

He had last seen this reaction in the park when a certain "gentleman" had walked by. "It's him isn't it?" Rangin felt no need to say the name. He briefly holds her tight and the releases her standing Kylah on her own two feet. Glancing over he sees him and the looks back to Kylah. Lifting her chin up with his thumb and finger, Rangin looks straight into her eyes.

"I know what you're feeling, how it would be easier to run, not think about it and you'll never have to see him again." He can feel the ghosts of past mistakes crawling across his skin, interfering in this night of all nights, the siren song of HER voice back once again. Only this time, Kylah wouldn't have to hear such a painful melody.

"Take it from someone who knows, someone who didn't just walk away but ran as fast as he could. Please, this is your last chance whatever happened. Confront him, sort it out now before we leave this planet, or you will spend the rest of your life regretting it and looking over your shoulder waiting for it to come around."

"I will be right there with you, you don't have anything to prove, just face it and walk away satisfied that you did what you needed to do."

Kylah can only stare mutely at Jan and wish she could vanish. The horrible juxtaposition of seeing him now, in the middle of kissing Velir... only two nights after she and Jan were doing the same thing. She feels cheap.

Of course Velir notices the change in her demeanor--he would even if she were better able to hide her mortification. Her first instinct makes her want to hiss, "We must beam up, we must beam up now!" But she finds Velir forcing her attention back to him and giving her what, to him, probably seems like the ideal advice.

But she has confronted Jan. And it was not satisfying, not at all. Jan reacted with polite dismay but never once, not once, took responsibility for what happened. Only excused his refusal to listen to her by claiming she seemed to enjoy herself. The thought disgusts her because as correct as he is regarding her physical responses, everything she said, her pleas for help, should have told him the truth.

Kylah cannot tell Velir this. She does not know what Velir thinks happened. And she never told him she saw Jan again. Neither does she want to behave like a cowering weakling in front of Velir a second time. No, she realizes miserably while staring up at Velir's intent, supportive expression. It will be the fourth time you let him down with your cowardice. Only hours ago, she was up on the Trimalchio, first having a hysterical fit, then fainting like a damsel in distress.

Without a word she turns and faces Jan and his unknown companions. She cannot gauge his mood--her own churning emotions, and Velir's strongly radiating encouragement, do not allow her to concentrate. After a tight, silent nod, Kylah keeps her own expression an affectless mask and begins to walk along the path.

Velir is not letting go of her hand, clearly out of protection and solidarity. She cannot bring herself to pull away even though the thought of Jan seeing her even so casually linked with Velir makes her ill.

This near-stranger is someone who this morning seemed convinced their sickening intimacy was magical, who--even after she just told him how violated she felt--expressed his hope that she might contact him for a repeat performance, who even claimed he could fall in love with her.

What will he do if he sees her with someone else?

Kylah swallows back her bile and walks forward in a daze like a woman approaching the gallows.

Ens. Meredith Davis tells Graham in her broad Australian accent, "Lt. Bennett's communicator signal indicates she's in the Arboretum. Shall I put you through?"

Jan is talking to the two men as they walk. Kylah sees as she draws closer that they are both Human, black, in their mid-forties, and of similar appearance. Jan finally notices her and his face falls. "Ah... um, Ens. Kylah. Hello. How are you?" He does not sound especially eager to hear her answer. He glances from her to Rangin, then back again, and forces a smile.