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

Kylah's left hand curls where it is resting on her bed, her fingers twisting the blanket. These are harmless... "I--I will answer these factual questions only, but you must not attribute anything to me. Palver first came to my attention on the last day of our investigation. I learned he was the owner of the Trimalchio and had arrived a full day before he was introduced to the spores. Not long afterward, I observed from the recovered video footage from the Starfire nightclub that Palver's actions on the night of Mr. Wilson's death were at odds with his prior statement to us." She exhales. "To your second question: yes, Vice Admiral Hardin stunned Ensign Graham and me. That is all I can tell you, Mr. Walcott. I really must not continue this. Do you promise I will not be named as a source? One of the hotel security staffers can back up my statement about the footage, a Mr. Gaines. Use him if you must name someone."

Rangin arrives at Mess Hall 1 and sees it is about half-full. He recognizes a couple of people, but none he would call a friend.

Several people in the corridor rush up to Collins. "Are you all right? Can we help?" they ask.

Walcott says, "Uh huh. Uh huh. OK, thanks. My sources say that Palver chartered and didn't actually own the yacht. Is that right? And how were his actions at odds with his earlier statement, exactly? And just a few more questions. How did Hardin stun the two of you? Was he working with anyone else in Starfleet? Do you think he killed Wilson, or did Palver, or someone else? And is it true that you had an affair with Palver, or Fastolfe, or both…?"

Collins allows herself to be helped to standing by those who have gathered. She wipes her eyes, and steadies her breathing. "I'll be alright. I've had a bad day, and I lost something important to me recently. It's unrecoverable. Thank you. Thank you." She repeats her thanks a few more times, facing each person as she does. Then she picks up her satchel and continues on to Ben's. Important? No, it wasn't. I didn't even want it. So why do I keep getting so upset when I think about it. I'll have to see Doc Villa about this tomorrow. All she wants now is to be held and to sleep.

Kylah tries to answer only the question about the Trimalchio, but Walcott doesn't seem to give her time to respond. "Yes, yes, it was a charter," she corrects herself, "I am sorry, I misspoke. I should not..." About the discrepancy with Palver's statement: "No, I will not answer that." She repeats this for the next two questions about Hardin, only able to get a word in when he asks about who killed Wilson. "Fellim Palver murdered Mr. Wilson," she says in as firm a voice as possible. "Now I really must--"

Walcott's last question arrives and, once it has sunk in, Kylah's eyes widen in horror. Falstolfe's name, she expected; possibly Jan's. But Palver? They are linking her with--Palver? No, it is even worse than that: he said, "Or both..."

Every instinct in her wants to blurt out her fiercest denial, her most demanding "who dares to say that of me?!" But she knows has already failed her vow to stay silent and nothing she say will make things any better. "I--I have no comment," she whispers. "No comment at all. Goodbye."

She shuts her communicator and flings it to the floor, then covers her eyes with both hands. Her face is hot, and feels more so underneath her seemingly bloodless hands. If she had not promised Velir to meet him for dinner, and if things were not so tenuous with him, she would grab her blanket, curl up beneath it and pretend herself invisible.

After a few moments where she is as still as a statue, Kylah goes to the bathroom, washes her face, and stares at her benumbed expression in the mirror. At last she forces herself to go to the mess hall.

Rangin wanders up and grabs a plate of lamb hotpot, still only vaguely aware of the food, and concentrating more on what to say and do about Kylah. Looking down at the plate, he suddenly realises just how hungry he is and doubles it up with a side order of salad and potatoes, and a sweet Bolian Sundae before adding a large coffee to it and making his way to the tables.

Nodding at a few of the people as he makes his way to the table, Rangin realises he's missed chatting to the others on board, if only due to the effects of the Sakathian virus and then followed up with this jaunt to OCIII. Sitting down, he unloads the tray and looks over the meal in front of him. Thinking back to the fine meal he had had the previous evening, he wonders how it will match up...not just the food, but the company when it finally arrives.

Looking around the mess, Kylah does her best to avoid anyone's gaze and just hopes that no one here has seen the news reports. It is probably good that this is such a late meal.

At last she spots Velir, seated by himself with a tray and some hearty meal that he does not appear to be touching. Although she was hungry before, Kylah is now too tense to contemplate food. Instead she orders a hot chocolate and walks somewhat hesitantly toward Velir's table. With every step she forces herself to cram her mood deep, deep within, out of sight. She is determined to keep him from growing weary of her constant misery--his earlier frustration made it clear she is already testing his patience. Do not speak of yourself. Keep things pleasant.

"Hello," she ventures once she reaches the empty chair opposite him, sinking down. Her hands cradle the mug in front of her, letting its comforting heat seep into her flesh. She gives him as warm a smile as she can. "I hope you were not waiting for me. What is that you are eating?"

Rangin greet Kylah with a smile as she approaches the table. "Hello there. I will admit I didn't wait as I didn't know how long you would be, though I didn't expect it to be that long. Actually, I was starving and I have already had half, I've just slowed down a bit. This is hotpot, nice and warming..." before he looks across and see Kylah only has a cup, "...just the hot chocolate, I thought you were hungry as well."

Rangin puts his knife and fork neatly down and looks across, He knows he has to ask and is hoping the answer is just what he wants it to be. "So, comm call all sorted then?"

Walcott is just beginning to ask more questions when Kylah shuts her communicator and flings it away.

Garcia looks at Kjaerstad, who says to Graham, "I suppose we could have been more pro-active in making sure that Kylah had someone else with her. Perhaps we should adopt a buddy system every time a landing party splits up, so that no one is ever unaccompanied. But it was, as you said, a fluid and changing situation. I'm sure we can do better next time."

Graham takes a deep breath. "Thank you, lieutenant: 'pro-active' is a word I was hoping to hear. The point being that if any one of us individually--or all of us..." he holds up a finger. "Had taken just one more proactive step to close the loop things would have gone differently--better."

He gestures slightly toward the two men. "I trust that especially in virtue of rank, or..." he points back to himself. "Ah, an obviously long term of service that we're all committed to being exemplary examples of what it means to always challenge ourselves to take the 'extra step,' especially where safety is involved." He starts to stand. "That's what my AMR will reflect."

As he stands, he adds "I intend to apologize to Ens. Kylah. Not as the mission commander but simply as a colleague who didn't live up to his personal standard for taking that extra step, this time. Whether you choose to do the same or not is up to you and will have no bearing on my report."

Although--not necessarily that you care--it will have decisive impact on whether I ever trust you with anything but the simplest of tasks in the future, he thinks.

Kylah lifts her mug to her lips, taking a sip that slightly burns her tongue before responding. "Yes, the conversation was brief, as expected," she says calmly, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it--and to waste a little more time. "As for this... I think I am too tired to eat. I will likely be going to bed soon and do not like sleeping on a full stomach. What precisely is in a 'hotpot'?"

Kjaerstad nods a little grimly, and Garcia says, "Thank you, Mr. Graham." They both leave.

Collins arrives at Cooper's quarters. He sees her and blanches, taking her hand. "Are you OK, Jer? What happened?"

Graham starts finalizing his report, then sighs. Comms is going to think I'm stalking her...but it's stupid to delay, no matter how much I might want to pop the chute on this day...

He asks Comms for Ens. Kylah's location, but does not ask to be put through. Assuming he is not told she's in her quarters (in which case he assumes she might have turned in), he heads for her location.

"It's nothing really." Collins says "I'll be fine. It's just my emotions are still jumbled." She takes a breath and moves in to hold Cooper close. "I passed a pregnant crewman on the way over and just lost it." and having said that, she starts sobbing again, hanging on to Cooper for dear life.

Rangin looks back at Kylah trying to read her, but it was never something he had been that good at. He nods his head at the news, it was more or less what he was looking for. "So, hopefully no more people trying to get hold of you then. I know I suggested otherwise, but full credit to you for doing it your way."

Rangin stirs the food on his plate with his fork. "A hotpot? Someone's idea of throw it in a pot and leave to simmer for several hours. This particular one is supposed to lamb, with assorted vegetables thrown in, and cooked in stock for several hours. In reality, its the best the replicator can do at short notice. I know you are not supposed to be able to tell the difference, and to be honest it's probably just me, but it still doesn't taste quite right. Then again, it's warm and comforting and I could do with some of that...we could all do with some of that."

Rangin blushes slightly as he realises what he has said and he glances back up at Kylah to see how she has taken it. "I quite agree. It has been a long day." he tries to cover up, by taking another mouthful of the dinner in front of him. It is easier to concentrate on that, than perhaps look up and see her expression.

Velir's compliment to Kylah for 'doing it her own way' cuts through her, and she sets the mug down before she chokes on another sip. I cannot lie to him. What if he finds out that I did not keep my word? That I spoke foolishly? If he learns I failed to hold my tongue, he will be so disappointed. Then there are these revolting new rumors about her and Palver... She knows she should warn him before it is too late.

But her impulse dies when Velir continues to talk about his food and why he chose it. Something in his tone gives away his own emotional exhaustion. She looks up and his tired eyes reveal a rare vulnerability as he describes the food as comforting--and then there is a fleeting look of embarrassment. Her heart turns over. Velir never asks for anything for himself. I can support him, for once. My problems are my own.

Velir's hand is on the table, as is Kylah's, and she discreetly moves her arm forward, so that the very tips of her fingers reach his. She leaves them there only long enough to gain his attention, then withdraws. "Velir," she murmurs, her eyes wide and hungry, desperate to prove her worth to him. "Please. What is wrong? Let me comfort you, for once. I want to be here--I am here for you. Tell me what you wish and I will do it."

The duty Communications officer on the Bridge says, "Ens. Kylah is in her quarters." That is, after all, where she left her communicator.

Cooper takes Collins into his arms and holds her tight, stroking her hair and saying, "Poor Jer. It's all right... you're going to be all right...."

After a few minutes Collins's communicator beeps. It is Dr. Villa, who says kindly but firmly, "Mr. Collins, I heard what happened in the corridor. Please report to Sickbay immediately. Have someone accompany you. If you'd prefer, I'll send two orderlies with a gurney."

"Yes, Doctor. I'm on my way." Collins grabs Cooper's hand, "Come with me?" she looks into his eyes.

"Of course," he says, smiling.

The two go to Sickbay, where Dr. Villa gives Collins a thorough scan, and frowns. "Maybe it was a mistake letting you out of Sickbay when I did. How do you feel now?" she asks.

"I'm fine" Collins tries to reassure the doctor. "It was an emotional thing, not a physical thing." Yeah, that'll convince her, Collins thinks sarcastically. "I guess my hormones haven't balanced out yet."

Graham rubs his temples. This mission is like a monkey I cant get off my back. That thought brings Collins to mind.

They room together--well, at least that means if Kylah is in their shared quarters, I'm unlikely to be barging in on any...after dinner plans...she had with her dude. He frowns. Hopefully those plans were romantic, not narcotic... He's encouraged by the fact that Cooper seemed genuinely friendly rather than in any way evasive.

He sighs. Since I've already held my, Kjaerstad's, and Garcia's feet to the fire in my report for not living up to the standard to which we should hold ourselves for being proactive, I can hardly punk out now.

He makes his way (without much enthusiasm) toward Kylah's quarters.

Dr. Villa takes some convincing, but finally agrees to allow Collins to leave Sickbay. She gives the Security officer a small, thin, matte-black biosigns monitor (as Rangin and Kylah had earlier had) to keep on or near her overnight, and tells her outside of Cooper's earshot, "No sexual intimacy for at least 48 hours, Lieutenant. You're not as recovered as we both thought you were earlier, and I don't want any further complications. Send Mr. Cooper away if you have to. That's an order. Understood?"

Graham arrives at Kylah's quarters. There is no answer when he tries the door chime.

"Yes, ma'am." Collins tells the doctor. It was the furthest thing from her mind at this point, anyway. All she wants is to be wrapped up in Ben's arms and sleep.

Rangin's almost immediate response is to remind Kylah of the dangers of making such an offer, but the words die on his lips as he looks across at her and sees the pleading eyes.

Lowering the fork to the plate, he wryly smiles back at her knowing that though she may say such things with honest intent, some things she would still shy away from. "Thank you, Kylah, for the offer, for being there, for being a friend."

"You said I know you better than any in Starfleet, but I've only known you for a few weeks and I don't think I know you that well at all," he idly moves the fork through the gravy making patterns, "I'd like to change that." Rangin looks across wondering what secrets she is hiding, things she is ashamed of that she has no right to be, why she acts so insecure around others. "but not tonight."

"Tonight, I want to relax, to get away for just a few hours with a friend, to chat, to unwind," Rangin's voice drops low so no-one around other than Kylah can hear him, "to hold tight."

He straightens up in the chair pulling himself back slightly, knowing he has probably overstepped the mark, and can't help but feel the regret mirrored in his face. "I'm sorry, I would be wrong to ask anything of you. You have been through more than I, and probably need a chance to try and rid some of the burden of the last few days yourself, without worrying about me."

"Wrong to ask anything of me?" Kylah shakes her head and even as he has leaned away, she pushes herself forward, as close to the table as she can. "Velir, I want to worry about you! No, that--that is not what I mean," she says with a quick shake of her head. "Of course I do not want to have to worry about you. But I want to show you I can be leaned upon. I am not weak, though I know I seem so."

She wonders if she dares to bring this up, and decides to risk edging toward a dangerous abyss. "The first night of the mission, when I bought that--that dress. I did it for you, so you would see me not as a girl, but a woman. Not just..." She unconsciously lifts a hand over her heart, covering the skin bared by the low neckline of her uniform. "Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally. I wanted--I want you to think of me as a peer, an adult who is strong and capable. I know the last few days seem to have proven me otherwise, but that was different. I can be strong for others. I helped raise my siblings, I acted as a leader of my House, when required.

"So please--if I can support you, let me. Of course, if you wish to be alone I understand completely. We have been together a lot and I do not want you to get bored of me. Besides, you likely have friends and tasks that can occupy you however you choose. I am sure you wish to catch up on things..."

Kylah hesitates. She realizes that it might indeed be best to keep Velir busy so that he does not hear any news for as long as possible. "If you do want to be with me and relax, to get away... so do I. I want nothing more than to forget about the planet below, the mission. I do not want to think of them or speak of them anymore. There must be something else we can do to keep occupied."

Her eyes light up. "Of course. 'Hold tight,' you said. That makes me think..." She smiles, almost beaming wickedly at him. "The perfect pastime to take our minds off everything." Then she furrows her brow. "I suppose we can go to my quarters... or possibly not, I do not know if Lt. Collins will be there with her... her friend. Perhaps I should contact her."

Reaching for her communicator, Kylah discovers it missing and she frowns for a second before remembering with a flush. "Oh. How stupid. I left my communicator back in my room. Well... it does not matter, we can find somewhere else private, and I will show you everything. I am not an expert but I am very good." Kylah sets her mug down and looks at Velir brightly. "Whenever you are finished. What do you say?"

Dr. Villa nods. "All right, then. You two scoot." Collins and Cooper return to his quarters.

Rangin looks back across the table in surprise as Kylah responds. As he listens, he wonders just how insecure Kylah is. Rangin had never thought of her as any less than a strong, capable woman and yet to hear her speak she describes herself in such poor times.

Shaking his head in disbelief at her comment about the dress, he resists the urge to blurt out that he didn't really like the dress, it made her look like an ingenue playing dress up instead of a woman. Well, that is his opinion and Rangin firmly clamps down on the urge to ruin this moment. As far as he can tell, Kylah is being genuine.

His eyes narrow as she suggests going somewhere quiet to unwind, that she has an idea to help the pair of them unwind, until she mentions going somewhere private and showing him everything, at which point his jaw drops open slighty and he hopes that no-one else around heard it or misconstrues what she might have in mind. Or is it that she does have that in mind? Either way, Rangin is now exceedingly curious about exactly what Kylah had planned...and judging by the look on her face she is obviously thinking of something good.

Rangin stops for a moment as she finishes, and then grins widely as he slowly comprehends what she is talking about. But perhaps it would be better to let her surprise him, after all, this was her idea. Reaching down, Rangin unclips his communicator and puts it on the table, next to his plate. "I have no idea what you are up to, but if you can think of a way to help the pair of us unwind, then I'm certainly interested." before sliding it across the table to Kylah.

"Contact Lt. Collins, see what she is up to and then, yes, I'm ready to see what you've got." Rangin nods in agreement.

With a relieved inhale, Kylah takes the communicator. "Ensign Kylah to Lt. Collins," she says. "I hope I am not disturbing you. I was wondering if you are--" How to put this tactfully? "--If you will be turning in early tonight. I would like to entertain company in our room, if I may, but do not wish to cause you any inconvenience."

While Kylah contacts Lt Collins, Rangin tucks back into the remainder of his meal with gusto while listening in. The sooner he finishes, the sooner Kylah will be showing him everything. He chides himself over the amusing thought of what else it could mean.

Collins vaguely smiles as she responds "Collins here. No, it's fine, Kylah. The room is all yours. Collins out." She puts her communicator away and snuggles in closer to Ben.

Kylah does not have a chance to thank Collins, but she smiles her gratitude anyway and passes the communicator back to Velir. "The room is all ours," she repeats to him, pleased. Once he is finished eating, Kylah will lead him back through the maze of the ship--it is still not familiar to her, considering all the time she has spent off on missions rather than getting to know her surroundings--and guides her first guest to her quarters.

Graham frowns. Oh for the love of god.... He checks the time and thinks it's more Kylah's turned in. And since he rang the chime without announcing himself, he knows she isn't deliberately ignoring him specifically. The easiest thing to do would be to leave message...

He sighs. Also kind of a cop-out. Well I can't just stand at her door like an idiot on the off chance she's out, without her communicator, and comes back...

He decides to take one more shot - he finds a spot to finalize his report, takes a brief walk around the deck, and then will return to her room.

Pretty much constantly carrying around his communicator in order to be reachable, even off-duty, has become second-nature to Graham, but now that he's entertained the fact that Kylah went out and left hers at home, as it were, he wonders whether he should have done the same.

Todays' only saving grace is that I haven't had to get an earful from Rangin. Graham frowns. But he's had all day to come up with a comprehensive, bullet-pointed list of criticisms, complete with footnotes and high dudgeon...


What if Rangin is as keen to wrap this mission up as I am? Would he really consider it finished without subjecting me to another tirade? Graham can't bring himself to turn off his communicator or swing by to drop it off in his quarters, but he's on edge, waiting to hear it chirp...

As he is finishing the meal, Rangin is now quite grateful for the foresight or ordering a Bolian Sundae and not the Deltan one he had been considering. That would have been just too weird. Nevertheless, he finishes the meal quickly, although just for once only eating most of it and not all. He really did not want to get indigestion tonight.

Once done, as he clears the plates away, he glances round the rest of the mess hall to see if any of the others there are paying a little too much attention to the pair of them and is then happy to follow Kylah back to her quarters.

As they arrive, Rangin asks politely, "so Kylah, what exactly did you have in mind for tonight or should I wait for you to surprise me?" He can't help but smile a wicked grin behind her as she leads him on.

"You will see," she says pleasantly as she lets Velir into her cabin, although first she takes a quick look around to see if there is anything inappropriate lying around. Collins is fairly neat and there are no feminine articles of clothing draped anywhere that might be a bit embarrassing.

Then she spots her communicator on the floor, and she hastens to stoop down and grab it back up before lying on her night table. She mutters something about it having fallen off her bed before turning around to Velir.

"I will be right back," she says, gesturing toward the bathroom and the closet where she keeps her bags and belongings. "In the meantime, please make yourself at home. Lt. Collins will not be back tonight, so we will not be interrupted. Although I suppose she could join in if she wishes..." Kylah heads off to the closet, where she rummages in the dark.

Hiding behind the door, she takes off her uniform, tired of wearing it, and slips a simple casual dress over her head in place. It is not as comfortable as a nightgown, but the pale yellow dress has long, sheer sleeves and drapes modestly (for an Elasian outfit) to her knees. Most important is that it is less restrictive than her uniform, and she need not wear the lengthy boots or stifling tights anymore. Her legs are bare and she slips into a pair of matching slippers. Once that is accomplished, she looks around her bags for the final necessary item. Triumphantly she pulls the small box from the bottom-most bag.

"There," she says, emerging from the closet. "I hope you do not mind that I changed. I cannot relax in such confining material. Now," she says, sitting on the bed and patting the blanket opposite her with an enticing smile. "Come up here by me. It is time I fulfilled the promise I made long ago." She unlatches the box and cheerfully pulls out the deck of cards and a small pouch full of plastic chips. "Are you ready?"

Rangin waves away Kylah's muttered apology about the communicator and casts his eyes around the room, wondering how Kylah and Lt Collins split it up.

As she reappears dressed in the yellow dress, Rangin nods appreciatively over how good she looks. As she pulls out the cards, Rangin smiles back at her knowing his guess had been right. "I most certainly am ready, though that dress might be considered unfair. You look so much more comfortable, and beautiful, not to mention highly distracting in it." He nods towards her apparel. "How am I going to learn to play cards, when it will be difficult to remove my gaze from you instead."

He makes his way across and carefully sits on the blanket opposite Kylah. "I guess I will just have to play in this uniform I have been wearing all day. Had I known I might have changed for something a little more casual as well. But then, I always did enjoy a challenge."

Rangin looks up at Kylah with a wicked grin, "Whenever you're ready."

Kylah maintains her smile but it dims somewhat, and she is more sober as she looks down to shuffle the cards. "I wish... I do not mean to seem ungrateful for your compliments, Velir. I know you mean to be kind. But I wish you would not say such things lightly." Her attention focuses on the intricate designs on the backs of the cards. "I only wore this because it is comfortable. The emphasis men place on my appearance makes me feel if I am some inanimate but decorative object.

"It is always how men describe me. Fastolfe, Jan, the hotel staff, various Kling--clingy cadets at the Academy," she hastens to correct smoothly, before ending in a soft, "Even my Guardian. I do not understand it. I am nothing special on Elas. There are many in Starfleet who look no different from me."

Shaking her head, she slowly deals the cards. "I guess I... I just want to know if there is anything inside that matters," she says before putting the deck between them and lifting the velvet pouch of chips. "I am glad that I please your eyes, if that is what has drawn you to me." Kylah tilts the pounch so the chips fall to the bed, then looks shyly up at Velir as she splits them up--half on her side of the bed, the rest to his. "But I hope you will find something else worthwhile in me. You, of all the men I know, seem the most perceptive. And the most likely to discover something of value. If it is there," she adds under her breath.

Graham exhales and stares at the door to Kylah's (and Collin's) quarters. He's resigned that she's probably still not there, or still not going to answer, leaving a loose thread for him to take care of tomorrow. On the other hand, that's one less thing that can go squirrelly today.

Nonetheless, he's resolved to take his own advice on being proactive, so he rings the chime.

Collins snuggles in closer to Cooper, who's already in pajamas, and who after ten minutes or so drops off to sleep. She is very comfortable and more than a little sleepy herself by now.

Graham's communicator remains silent.

At hearing the chime, Kylah looks up in surprise. It is a somewhat welcome interruption. She feels guilty for having turned the conversation to a less enjoyable topic.

"Excuse me," she says to Velir before pushing herself from the bed, still holding the little velvet pouch and twisting the tie between her fingers while walking to the door. Upon opening it, Kylah is--to put it mildly--startled to see the man in the doorway. "Mr. Graham?" She stares up at him, her face unaccountably flushing. "What--what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Graham blinks, a little surprised at the door opening, but more surprised by Kylah's reaction. "Uh, no," he replies by instinct. "No, nothing's wrong." His eyes narrow. "Are you all right?" he says, glancing from her reddened face into the room.

Jeez Booker, he reminds himself, relax, you're not responding to a domestic violence call....

"Of course I am all right. Why would I not--" She suddenly looks back at the bed and sees Velir, then flushes further when she realizes that Graham might see him. We are doing nothing wrong, she tells herself, but still reflexively positions herself a little closer to Graham in hopes that he might not look inside. It would be nice if her private life remained private for more than two minutes.

"I am fine," she concludes firmly as she stares up at him. The fact that she is now so close to him makes it even more apparent how much shorter she is than he is, particularly without her boots to lift her a few inches. Graham is not very tall either, but from his superior height he can certainly see over her. Or look down at her chest. Now she is even more flustered. "What may I do for you, Mr. Graham?"

Half of Graham's response is purely autonomic. As Kylah takes an unnatural step forward, sending a signal he reads as clearly indicating she doesn't want him to come in, he slips his left foot forward and shifts his weight forward onto that foot. He angles his body and slides into the doorframe, maintaining the distance between them solely by seizing the extreme left (Kylah's extreme right).

His right hand moves ever so slightly backward toward where his phaser would be if he had one.

To prevent him from entering, if he chose, she'd either have to take a step back in order to fully obstruct him, extend her arm to grab him...

Or push me against the doorframe with her, uh, very apparent breasts, he realizes.

He clears his throat. The other half of his reaction is more deliberate.

"Um, look, I'm sorry to disturb you," he says--sincerely. He's working on talking himself down from obviously overreacting, when he reminds himself that he's here to apologize for failing to be proactive and dot every 'i' and cross every 't' to make sure his colleagues were really OK.

Then it hits him: son of a bitch, she couldn't be covering for Collins being high, could she?

"I ah, I just needed to speak with you. If I could come in for a moment," he adds. "I'll make it quick."

Graham's bizarrely pushy dance to prevent her from leaving makes Kylah extremely uncomfortable. It is not the first time today he has stepped in the way between her and a means of escape. She wonders if he knows just how aggressive he seems, and how frightening. She gets no unsavory impression from his emotions, but after Fastolfe and Jan she does not trust her instincts.

"In the hallway, please, Mr. Graham, if you wish this to be private. I would rather you not... I have a friend..." Kylah moistens her lips, hesitates, and finally gives up, hoping Velir will not be angry. "Mr. Rangin is in here," she says defiantly. She steps back, only a little, so Graham can tell that Velir is in uniform and nothing untoward is happening.

Then it occurs to her that none of this likely matters, because he is probably here about the mission. He might have heard the latest news, including the rumor about her and Palver. Perhaps Walcott even called him.

Nervous, she squeezes past Graham, not enjoying the proximity, but at last she is in the hall and points a frustrated finger out in the corridor. "We can talk here. What do you want to say?"

"Rangin?" Graham blurts out with a mixture of surprise and a little bit of dread.

What was the old phrase, Booker, 'don't break into jail?' Nice work...

He glances at Rangin and very quickly jerks himself back out into the hallway, hoping Rangin doesn't notice him.

Chastened, he lowers his eyes--studiously avoiding looking down the shorter woman's dress--and rubs his head. "Ah, well, look, I really am sorry for disturbing your..."

He raises his head. Your what? Kylah and Rangin did seem maybe to be close, but he's just sitting there... He almost chuckles.

He's probably reading her chakras or something.

He reins in in a diversionary trek through centuries of different cultural stereotypes.

He moves further out into the hallway, leaving the way clear between Kylah and her door. "Your, uh, evening."

He clears his throat. "After we talked earlier--I wanted to apologize. Not as the mission commander but just--you were surprised to not get the back up you expected when you needed it. If any one of us--me, Kjaerstad, Garcia--had been more proactive paying attention to the safety of one of our colleagues...had taken just one single additional action--that would not have happened."

"This has nothing to do with what regs say, or the chain of command--the bottom line is that any good officer--or for that matter halfway decent human being-- doesn't take things like safety for granted or assume 'somebody else' is taking care of it."

He pauses. "I amended my AMR to be explicit on this point. But I wanted to apologize personally." He frowns slightly. "I didn't order Garcia or Kjaerstad to apologize--even if I could, it's not the sort of thing that means anything if it's not sincere. But I wouldn't mind knowing if either of them do."

He shrugs. "That's all. Before too much time passed--I wanted to let you know I listened and acted on what you had to say."

Collins allows herself to be lulled to sleep by Cooper's rhythmic breathing. Just before she is fully asleep, she is aware that she is actually happy for the first time in days, and falls asleep with a smile on her face.

Kylah's awkwardness about Velir's presence in her room fades the longer she listens to Graham's speech. Again she is struck by his taking responsibility for what happened--or rather, what did not happen--in that transporter room corridor. The truth is, Garcia was snatched away from his role as her backup before Graham even knew he had been assigned to it. Kjaestad knowingly, maybe purposely, pulled Kylah's only backup away from her.

She told this to Graham earlier but he does not seem able or willing to concede this.

Is it because Kjaerstad is his superior? Is that why Graham cannot assign blame to him? It is strange. He does not seem to be a by-the-books man. He is a dyed-in-the-wool combat officer, and there will always be a special bond between such men and women. There is no getting past it. "The thin red-shirt line," she murmurs bitterly, looking at her pale yellow slippers.

Then she lifts her eyes to Graham's and at last gives him a proper response. "Thank you, Mr. Graham. And I am grateful that you amended your AMR," she says, her voice tired but sincere. "I also appreciate your apology. I said before I do not blame you, as you were operating at a disadvantage. But I accept your apology nevertheless because you seem to need me to.

"I do not--I do not fully understand why you cannot ascribe blame to the right person. When some part of our ship's engine fails, someone such as Lt. Delaney would make every effort to determine which specific component part failed in its duty; he would then figure out why it failed. Finally he will either fix or replace that instrument. He would not blame the entire engine.

"Why is this different? You may argue that people deserve more than to be considered instruments worthy of replacing. But unlike a piece of machinery, people have motives. People can make mistakes not merely because they lack ability, but because they choose to fail."

She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. "I would like to ask you one question, Mr. Graham. You said that you did not order Garcia or Kjaerstad to apologize. I assume, therefore, that you spoke to them. May I ask what they said, if they gave you a reason why Kjaerstad overrode my order without even telling me?"

Graham nods slowly, listening carefully to her question. It's a fair question, he thinks. Plus at least so far Rangin hasn't burst out of the room to amplify it: 'indeed, explain why you jackbooted simian, you lumbering clod...'"

He takes and exhales a deep breath. He suspects his answer may be less than satisfying to someone half his age. "Well, once I got back on the air--and gave some orders, no less--the waters got really muddy about chain of command. " He shrugs. "Was whatever authority you had solely operative while I was out of pocket? Was there reason for everyone to assume I had re-taken direct control? Could the regs be read to say that Kjaerstad had done 'enough by the book' informing he he'd drafted Garcia in response to my new order?"

He shakes his head and looks at the younger officer directly, something made less awkward by the fact she's now covering her chest.

"When you're trying to identify what part is causing a failure, you want a good, clear test." He shrugs slightly. "The fact that no good officer--especially anyone who aspires to being a senior officer--could possibly claim that in the kind of situation we were in it is 'good enough' to assume the mission commander is taking care of things without making a proactive effort to confirm, or that it's 'good enough' to follow an order that conflicts with a previous one without helping the person giving the order out by reminding them of something they might have forgotten..."

He pauses and smiles grimly.

"That sets up a good clear test. A bright line, if you will, rather than a scrum that leaves everybody a little bit mud-splattered. It's worth giving up on any satisfaction from pointing a finger at one person, or one thing, to get to the heart of the matter about who you can trust."

He's mostly in the mode of giving advice, as he's certain he went about things the right way. Of course, you're also certain there's something behind why she's so focused on this...

"Ah - look, I know...I'm pretty sure you didn't feel like you were treated with full respect down there. Maybe, ah...other places too. If I were in your shoes..." He realizes she isn't wearing any. "In your place, I'd be pretty pissed off and upset about it. I'd want my commanding officer, even a temporary one, to kick some ass and take some names over it."

Isn't this ironic? I'm apologizing for not rampaging around like a bull in a china closet while Rangin's sitting not ten meters away...

He has a false start, and then takes her shoulders firmly but very gently. "I know this is disappointing to you," he says, looking down at her and nodding slowly. Then he shakes his head slightly. "I also don't see any other way I would handle this particular situation. But I'm not oblivious to--"

To what? To what you need?


"...to the situation."

Well, I don't totally understand the situation, though...But I'm on it, nontheless he reminds himself. He's fully dialed in to making sure he does whatever he can to ensure not just her safety, but her well-bring.

"You're not alone with it," he says, letting her go. He drops his eyes for a moment and shrugs. "Ah, speaking of which, I should really let you get back to your, uh...quarters."

Try as Kylah might, she cannot parse Graham's response to her question. If it was a response. It strikes her that he would make an excellent Privy Council member on Troyius. As Elaan has written her, they are deft at double-talk and taking a hundred paces to wind their way around facts when there is one clear path to the truth.

Apparently in Graham's view there is no point to determining who is to blame for Kylah's order not being followed, merely because Graham got on the open channel at one point. Except, as Kylah has tried to explain over and over again, Kjaerstad's disobedience occurred before Graham was even involved. Why is that not clear? Why does he not see that she was put in danger because Kjaerstad rescinded Kylah's call for backup before Graham got involved?

Kylah is about to explain this for the third time when Graham suddenly puts both hands on her. It is all she can do not to wriggle out from under him. He says he is not oblivious, but he very clearly is. Frozen in place, she just stares at him, stomach churning, as she bites back the words: Do you touch all your officers as much as you do me?

Finally he lets go and she gladly takes a step back, shrugging her shoulders until the warmth and pressure of his hands have faded from memory. She nods. "Yes. Thank you for... for your visit. It was unnecessary for you to come all this way so late, but..." Kylah abruptly looks down at herself, thinks of the time of evening, thinks of his insistence on coming into her room, remembers his touch. A sick fear comes over her and she can almost feel the blood drain from her face. Just what was he expecting from her? What if Velir were not here?

"Thank you again for treating me professionally," she says in as distinct a voice as she can, though it sounds weak to her. "Good night, Mr. Graham." She backs away and quickly places her hand on the controls to shut the door. She keeps her gaze trained on her hand for a moment, girding herself, before turning to Velir and walking slowly back to the bed.

Rangin watches with amusement and then a certain amount of disbelief as Kylah answers the chime to Ens. Graham and then leaves the quarters. He suddenly realises he is now alone in Ens. Kylah's and Lt. Collins quarters with nothing to do. After drumming his fingers on the bed for a moment, it becomes apparent that Kylah is not coming straight back in and indeed must be having some kind of conversation outside which is obviously intended not for his ears.

He reaches across and picks up the pack of cards and deals himself out a game of patience. If she is back by the end then fine. If not, he will just leave her a note and head off.

It's only a part way through when Kylah walks back in, looking all stiff and fixed. Rangin puts the cards down as she makes her way back to the bed.

"Is everything alright, Kylah?", he asks quietly, concerned for the change in demeanour and wondering what the conversation was about.

Graham heads back to his quarters.

Well, at least that wasn't a disaster, he thinks.

All things considered he figures it's a good thing Kylah and Rangin are friends--or more. Either way, he's a pain in the ass as far as I'm concerned but he's a decent sort.

He's looking forward to a relaxing shower and a good night's sleep.

Collins slips into a deep and dreamless sleep, nestled beside Cooper.

Graham finds Mahmoud in their quarters, reading in bed from a datapad. He waves. "Hey, Booker. Welcome back." Graham can see the datapad is displaying the San Francisco Chronicle, well-known for its coverage of Federation politics and Starfleet.

Is everything all right, Velir has asked. "I do not know," Kylah says huskily, then shakes her head and sits back down beside Velir. "I mean... yes. Everything is fine. I am sorry to have taken so long, that was very rude of me. It was just--Mr. Graham needed to speak to me. He... there were some issues with the AMRs regarding how I ended up alone outside the transporter room while Mrs. Hsu was attempting to escape. When I ordered Garcia to back me up, and then Kjaerstad reassigned him to watch videos instead, without telling me."

She picks up one of the poker chips, fingernail scraping along the its circumference. "Apparently no one will be blamed because everything was confusing. That was the gist of it. Graham apologized and took some nebulous responsibility but I do not think... I do not think anything will happen. It will be brushed aside. He means well, I suppose, but..." Kylah finds her vision blurring and she keeps her head low, hair covering her eyes to hide the reaction. "He also... He makes me uncomfortable. He is always... touching me. I am sure he does not intend to make me feel..."

Kylah shakes her head again and gathers her chips into piles. "That is what I meant before," she says, forcing her hoarse voice to lighten. "It is likely my fault. It cannot be a coincidence that such things happen to me. I just have to... change something. It does not matter. Anyway. I have dealt you five cards. The first thing to know about Poker is that there are different sorts of winning combinations of cards, or 'hands.' The person with the best hand wins the pot of chips--these things."

She lifts a pile of chips and lets them clink to the bed one by one. Then she returns to look up at Velir, eyes blinking so that she is no longer tearing up. "I...I am sorry, I just realized I do not know how much or little you know about the game."

Rangin closes the hand and places it face down on the bed wondering how he can comfort Kylah without touching her, it seems to be the last thing she wants.

"Ok, poker can wait, let's talk about you for a moment. You said earlier this evening that you bought a dress to try and show me you were a woman, not just a girl." Rangin sighs knowing the next bit is likely to hurt Kylah's feelings but needs to be said. "You didn't need to, I have always thought of you as adult. A peer, a colleague, a friend, someone capable of standing on her own feet, although perhaps not recognising when to accept help." Rangin thinks back to Kylah's sprained ankle and looks down briefly at the leg sticking out from the dress.

Rangin frowns slightly, "I don't know why Ens. Graham keeps putting his hands on, in fact he shouldn't, he has no reason to, and I doubt he would do it to any other member of the crew. You will have to tell him, to ask him to stop, otherwise he is likely to continue doing it. If he doesn't intend it, or doesn't realise what he is doing, then he should be open to being told. I'm also surprised there was a problem with the AMR's, the onus is to be honest in them, to put down what you believed happened. I don't believe he is going to be too happy with me, I pointed out the bullying he did of Mr Wilson, but like you I expect nothing to come of it."

Rangin moves a little further down the bed away from Kylah to allow himself a better view of her. "I'm sorry, you probably don't want this pointed out," he says as he gestures up and down her figure, "but you are a beautiful woman whether you like it or not. You say that there are many who look like you in Starfleet, well I would have to point out that may only be correct referring to your gender. Elas must be a very bright place with so much beauty and dilithium on it," Rangin adds wryly.

Running a hand through his hair, Rangin shifts uneasily on the side of the bed, before sitting up straight and looking Kylah square in the eyes. "Your beauty is not what attracts me to you, " he rushes, hoping he can get the words out before his brain decides he is making a fool of himself and stops him speaking. " It's your vitality, your stubborness, your willingness to stand firm for what you think is right, your prickly personality, you. I could be lost in your eyes and that smile of yours for days, but its the way you act, the way you care that makes me want to be with you, to want to get to know you further."

Rangin takes a deep breath and wonders if he went too far again. "If I have said too much, or hurt your feelings, I am sorry and I will leave if you wish. I would much rather prefer to play poker with you though, if you would still consent to teach me?"

Graham is tired, but his mood is buoyed by having wrapped up loose ends from the mission--and particularly how well, all things considered, the conversation with Ens. Kylah went.

"Any news," Graham asks Mahmoud, "or are you still working through the fashion section?"

The way Velir describes her fills Kylah with wonder. She feels warm, and grows warmer still the longer he talks. It is not the usual heat of embarrassment, however; this sensation begins and spreads from deep inside, radiating comfort, relaxation, affection, and... a kind of strange yearning. No, not entirely strange--she remembers something similar with Jan, unfortunately--but that was induced by spores, the wine, and her own vulnerable receptivity toward Jan's own feelings.

But this longing... this is her own.

She is acutely aware that they are on a bed together, and Velir is close enough to touch. Of course she dares not make a move. She is uncertain how he would react--and more, she has no idea how she would react if he actually responded. As much as she wants to be in his arms right now, the possibility of being closer, in a bed, held by him, feeling his weight on her... it is terrifying. Too soon. Too familiar. Too stifling.

Obliterating these dangerous thoughts, Kylah just absorbs Velir's kind and far too generous words. Finally she nods. "Of course I wish to teach you," she murmurs. "And I thank you for all you have just said. I cannot believe you see all this in me, but you would not lie. I... hope you know I feel as you do. Everything good you mention of me, I see in you. Not that I would call you prickly," she adds with a slight, tilting smile. "Very much the opposite. If I am prickly, you are the...the balm that soothes me. I feel peaceful with you. Being with you is like coming home. A better home than I have ever known before."

She immediately regrets that admission--though it is true, it is traitorous, extremely disloyal to Elas and her House--and hastens to add, "At least not since I left for the Academy. As for Mr. Graham and the AMRs and Kjaerstad and all that... I will worry about them tomorrow." Along with the news reports and whatever rumors will be flying around the ship, she thinks uneasily before shaking her head to dismiss them. "Tonight I will devote to teaching you this game. It is best played with more than two people, but for now, I am glad it is just you and I."

Kylah smiles meaningfully at Velir, hoping he understands how very much she means this. "Now," she goes on, more firmly. "We were talking about hands. The best hand you can achieve, with a regular deck and depending on the sort of poker you are playing, is a straight flush. That is five cards in a row, of the same suit, and the higher the better, with the best being the sequence of ace, king, queen, jack and ten. That is called a Royal Flush. It is very rare but to get one is worth the waiting." She hesitates at her words, blushing a bit herself, and quickly turns back to reciting the rest of the poker hands.

Hopefully Velir will not mind waiting for her.

Mahmoud says, deadpan, "You are such a hilarious guy, Booker. I'm just not sure my heart can take such unrestrained frivolity." He passes the pad to Graham, who sees it features a Chronicle story about a Federation grand jury handing down indictments against Palver, Hardin and the Hsus on multiple felony charges including murder, conspiracy and theft. Palver's company has filed a habeas corpus petition demanding that Starfleet make Palver available to meet with his lawyers; the judge has not yet ruled upon it. Mahmoud goes to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, so Graham next tabs to a Solar Post story (not really noticing that the reporter's name is Clive Walcott) discussing the Starfleet investigation to date. The Yorktown is mentioned, but no individual crewmembers by name.

As Kylah starts to speak again, Rangin begins to relax as he sees that she is not unhappy with his words. He waits to see if she will move closer or respond physically, but is in some ways glad to see that all it has done is bring a smile to her face and colour to her cheeks.

Rangin wants to be closer but knows that it would probably not be the best idea; why further complicate the evening when they are supposed to be just relaxing and unwinding.

Then she begins to describe how to play poker, and Rangin lets her continue. He knows how to play he just wasn't very good at it, but is quite content to let Kylah lead from the start. Of course, he cannot help but openly smile when she mentions a Royal Flush, and he sees blush before continuing on not realising Rangin is looking right at her.

He just hopes she is a Royal Flush worth waiting for, and not a Busted Flush it would be better to fold on immediately. But that was something for another night, as for now all he wanted to do was enjoy this moment.

After as brief an explanation as Kylah can make of the game, she and Velir begin to play. One round turns to two, then four, and she loses count. Kylah purposely avoids active engagement of her empathic powers, but she cannot help but win most of the early rounds; she is getting more familiar with the tiny expressions passing over Velir's face, and the fact that the two them are so close--not just physically but emotionally--helps greatly in determining his bluffs and identifying a 'tell' or two.

Her original plan was been to lose a few rounds, because no man--even one as egalitarian as Velir--wants to lose every single game. However, she discovers that she does not need to try. She may have more chips than he does now, but more than once he has taken a substantial portion of hers. Velir is either brilliant at picking up the game, or...

"Velir Rangin, you have played this before," Kylah accuses him with mock indignation in her tired but playful voice, watching him grin as he scoops up his latest winnings after revealing a mere pair of threes. She is now lying on her side, her head resting on her right hand, which in turn is supported by her elbow. Opposite her, Velir mirrors her pose. "Now why did you let me go through all that when you are no mere beginner?"

* * *

"Now I never said that I didn't know how to play, just that I didn't know how to play well." Rangin responds with an amused smile. "My biggest problem was that no-one wanted to practice, they just wanted to remove what money I had in a game, so I decided it wasn't really worth playing that much."

He looks back across the bed feeling quite contented. "Thank you though, your teaching and expertise will no doubt stand me in better stead should I wind up playing with others." He idly plays with the chips in front of him, letting them rattle and fall through his fingers. "And thank you for tonight, I feel much better than I did earlier on."

Sighing contentedly, he looks across at the figure who suddenly blinks her eyes open and flutters them a little more. Rangin smiles, he can see that she has relaxed as well, and the wear of the day is no longer written across her face. However, the last couple of hands have gone his way, not because he was a great player, but because she also looks exhausted.

Instead of dealing out a new hand, Rangin decides to idly chat "You know, I think the last time I played poker was on the Lexington, strangely enough with a group of security guys, exceedingly dissimilar to the ones on the Yorktown, who were happy that I had assisted in some small matter. They were a nice crew, but when it came to cards, they were all business, more so on occasion than guarding the ship. However, they were nice enough to not completely clear me out, when they found out how bad I was. Spent the rest of the evening swapping stories and drinking certain frowned-upon beverages"

* * *

Kylah smiles at Velir's tales and lets her hand fall back on the bed as her head sinks down, pillowed by her hair and the flesh of her upper arm. She pays attention to his gentle, lulling voice even though waves of sleep are threatening to overtake her. "So you do break rules sometimes," she murmurs, her lips curling into a wry smile. "Mr. Graham would be surprised. You are not afraid I will reveal your nefarious past? Of course I would not. I am glad you trust me, Velir. I hope some day I can... I wish I could tell you..."

She forgets what she was saying for a moment--in fact, she forgets to continue speaking entirely as another wave of exhaustion hits her and turns her words to an inarticulate mumble.

This day has been nothing but anxiety and anger, and her body--with its muscles tense all day-- seems to have given up at last. She feels loose and liquid. And blissfully safe.

"Tell me about the Lexington," she murmurs, her eyes opening again, having to shift to find Velir again. He is so near, with every familiar curve and plane of his face endearing and pleasing to her. "You were with Lt. Pourtash there, is that so? I want to hear more about you. Do you mind if I just... listen?"

She shifts slightly, one knee bending and accidentally knocking some of her chips beneath her. She waits for him to begin, a tiny sigh escaping her smiling lips, not quite realizing that at some point she has closed her eyes.

* * *

Rangin leans back slightly, thinking on old times before he starts, "Of course you can listen, Kylah. So, the Lexington, a wonderful ship served on until the incident at Alpha Carinae. Let's see what stories can I tell." He moves back to look across at Kylah, but her eyes are shut and all he can hear in the silence of the cabin is the steady, gentle breathing of someone asleep in front of him.

The words he is about to say catch in his throat as he does not want to wake her. She looks so peaceful for once, at odds with the rest of the day, that to wake her with be an injustice. Far better to let her sleep. He looks across for several seconds, lost in the sight of her gentle repose, wondering if she knows just how much of a beauty she is.

'I wish I could tell you...' Rangin finds her half-mumbled words teasing his brain--and not in a good way. They had something to do with trusting him, that much is obvious. What did she mean? What is she holding back? Her face is so serene. But her mind is obviously troubled. What with? Should he, can he find out?

Rangin shakes his head, temporarily putting those questions on hold, and considers what he should do next. He stares down at her and a few less-than-noble options cross his mind, especially as he stares at the soft bared flesh of her arm, or even the thigh where her dress has bunched up to reveal more than she would probably prefer. He discards these thoughts as beneath him. He's supposed to be a Starfleet officer and a gentleman now, and this is a veritable princess lying asleep in front of him. Of course, fairy tales would suggest that True Love's Kiss would wake her...

He sighs. No, it's not only inappropriate, but inconsiderate. She may not mind, but Rangin prefers his ladies to be fully awake and receptive in those situations.

Easing himself gently off the bed, Rangin picks up the playing chips and quietly places them back in the bag before gathering up the cards, selecting one face up on top and placing the pack neatly to one side. Finally, he eases out a blanket that was earlier pushed to one side and lays it over the top of Kylah. He sees her instinctively grasp the fabric and pull it in tight around her, all the while remaining in slumber. She mutters a few words under her breath, but Rangin cannot quite pick them out.

Standing up, he turns off the lights and heads for the exit. As he reaches it, he looks back. "Sleep well, sweet princess," he whispers to the form now hidden in shadow, wondering if she'll find the card upturned on the deck of cards, and if she'll understand its meaning, before exiting the quarters and heading back for his own.

Throughout the corridors, Rangin's thoughts again turn to Kylah's almost-confession of something unknown. I wish I could tell you... Then there is those mysterious reports about the resort investigation he still hasn't read. And the fact that he knows so little about her, just as he pondered earlier tonight. He begins to walk more quickly.

Time to find out more about those news stories.

* * *

Kylah sighs and turns in her empty room. Her hand moves forward and, eyes barely open, she sees the card in front of her. Smiling dreamily, she whispers Velir's name and falls back into sleep even as her fingertips caress the card: the Queen of Hearts.

Graham shakes his head after reading the paper. What a mess, he thinks about the events on OC3 and the cast of characters indicted. But he's pleased that the stories about the Yorktown and specifically Ens. Kylah seem to have come to nothing.

Once he's in bed, for a change his dreams are not about dark memories from his own past. Instead, Bennett and St. Croix, in full pirate regalia, are dueling in flamboyant swashbuckling style back and forth across the deck of an 18th Century ship.

When Rangin gets back to his quarters, he nods to Ens. Gordon and settles down for the night. After checking what his rota is tomorrow, some new experiments in the morning followed by Dr Villa's psychic examination later on, he pulls down the latest news reports to see just what has been written about them.

Ens. Charles Gordon, a black American, deuterium fuel specialist and Rangin's bunkmate, brightens when Rangin comes in. "Hey, Velir - how are you? I heard a little about your mission. Pretty big news. Everything OK now?"

Rangin sees he is due to stand a watch from 0800 to 1600 tomorrow in Xenobiology Lab 2. His psi testing in Sickbay is scheduled for 1615. He finds the best coverage on FedNewsNow, learning much the same as Graham had earlier. Another development: former Federation Councillor Rafael Quinones of Juarez VIII has, according to a "highly-placed source at Starfleet Command," been preliminarily identified by Le Figaro as the "Q" from Wilson's files who was the recipient of payoffs. Before his retirement earlier this year, Quinones was a key member of the Starfleet Affairs Committee. Quinones, in a written statement, denied any wrongdoing and was reported to be meeting with his lawyers.

Like Graham, Rangin sees several references to the Yorktown in coverage of the high-profile investigation, but no mention of any of his crewmates by name.

Rangin nods back across to the stocky fellow. "Yes, it's very big news indeed, we wound up stumbling into. It's going to be months before they work out everything that happened, we only touched the tip of that particular iceberg. I can confirm that the resort and the planet are excellent though. Everything fine, there may be a few repercussions outstanding, but it should settle down now. At least I hope it does."

As he reads the news, he lets out a low whistle at the possible revelation of who the mysterious "Q" figure may be. They had been lucky to find out about Hardin, but they would have had no chance of finding some retired Councillor in a far corner of the galaxy.

After browsing through them, Rangin settles down to sleep, deep and dreamless.

Shipboard "night" passes uneventfully as the Yorktown sweeps along in standard orbit.

You wake to find a shipwide announcement from the Captain in your comm accounts, along with more minor news items and orders of the day:

DISCIPLINARY REPORT
Based upon a close review of the After-Mission Reports of all personnel assigned to the landing parties on Omicron Ceti III since our arrival, and after due consideration, the following demotions and reassignment are hereby ordered:

DELANEY, James, Engineering. Officially reprimanded and demoted from Lt. JG to Ensign, due to errors in judgment which placed a shipmate in potentially mortal danger. Also reassigned from Asst. Chief Engineer to Engineering Specialist.

KJAERSTAD, Haakon, Security. Officially reprimanded and demoted from Lt. JG to Ensign, due to errors in judgment and disobedience to orders which placed a shipmate in potentially mortal danger. Reprimand and demotion appealed to Starfleet Command, but both duly confirmed by ZEISER, Thomas M., Vice Adm., Starfleet Office of Personnel. No reassignment.

This is a fine ship with a fine crew, and we have much to be proud of in the successful conclusion of our role in the Wilson and Hardin cases. However, as ever, serious errors have serious consequences. Starfleet, and the people of the Federation, expect no less from us. I am confident that we will all learn from this, and do better in the future.

Carry on.

SINGH, S.P., USS Yorktown, commanding
Stardate 6011.7.

Having spent the night in the first decent night's sleep since before the Sakathian mission, Kylah showers and dresses before taking a look at her comm account. When she sees the announcements, her emotions war with one another.

The news of Delaney's punishment saddens her: she would have expected a reprimand for his carelessness, but not such a significant demotion. She gnaws at a thumbnail, feeling a measure of guilt. Should she have been less harsh regarding the incident in her report? It cannot just be my word, she tells herself hopefully. Graham must have said something as well. Although... it just says that he endangered 'a shipmate.' Both Graham and I were in the same position... She does not know what if anything to say to Delaney when she sees him.

Kjaerstad, on the other hand... This result shocks her. Her immediate reaction is a swell of vindication and relief. The more Kylah mulls this over, however, the more uneasy she feels. She does not object at all to the punishments; both seem just. She is not comfortable with not having learned why Kjaerstad behaved as he did. She would have expected a meeting, even a hearing, where she could learn what the lieutenant--now the ensign--had been thinking. With Graham certainly not having backed her up in his AMR, Kylah wonders why her word was taken over Kjaerstad's. Perhaps Garcia said something, she guesses, reaching to tap her keypad and close out of her account.

Still, Kylah cannot help her fierce curiosity regarding why Kjaerstad behaved as he did. Why did he place her in such a dangerous position? There must have been a reason. But now she dares not confront the man. To do so might look as if she is gloating. He is likely angry enough; the fact that he appealed the decision makes it clear he feels no remorse.

She purposely does not look up any news items about the investigation. If anything new occurs she will learn of it soon enough. Besides, the truth is, she is starving. Having skipped dinner last night, Kylah needs to get a decent breakfast. And perhaps see Velir again, she thinks. Before she leaves her quarters, she takes the Queen of Hearts card from her night table and hides it in her belt. The memories from last night keep her smiling all the way to the mess hall.

Collins has been awake for about a half hour, watching Ben sleep. It's still a few minutes before she has to get up, but she wants to enjoy this comfort as long as she can.

Rangin looks at the morning report in surprise. He had mentioned to Gordon last night there might be repercussions, but this is not was he had expected.

He had found out about Lt., well Ens. now, Delaney's actions after the event but hadn't really expected more than a stern warning given everything else he did on the mission. Kjarestad, well that was a different matter, though Rangin does suspect he is being used as a scapegoat as Security, in general, had not been at its best and brightest on the planet. He wonders if Coringu and Garcia gave differing reports as they had been covering the same thing when Kylah had been heading into danger.

On the other hand it looked like everything the rest of the team had done was all in a day's work, despite the situation, so no cookies on offer to them.

Didn't matter now, the mission was more or less over and he had other things to do, experiments to run, things to find out, secrets to uncover.

Rangin thinks back to last night with Kylah and smiles, now there is a mystery worth solving.

With first shift at 8am, he's out of the quarters early for a hearty breakfast to see what the new day brings and heads straight for the mess hall.

Kylah is sitting at a table alone, doing a good job of devouring a massive plate of scrambled eggs, fruit salad, a thickly buttered muffin, water and her beloved hot chocolate. Thanks to her hunger, she knows the food will not be wasted--the primary problem is keeping herself from eating too fast.

After popping the last morsel of the muffin into her mouth and licking her fingers, she looks up while chewing and sees Velir enter the mess.

At once Kylah grabs a napkin and wipes her hands and lips before trying to meet his gaze. He probably has friends to eat with, and she does not wish to crowd him by becoming too omnipresent, but she certainly owes him gratitude for last night.

Cooper wakes up and sees Collins looking at him. He smiles and pulls her closer for a kiss. His hand moves from there to her hip, which he gently strokes.

Graham whistles softly when he reads the disciplinary report. He's a bit surprised by the harshness of the penalties: in both cases, he would have expected remedial training (and he chides himself a bit for not recommending that).

Although in Kjaerstad's case, he thinks, if he failed to apologize to Ens. Kylah I would indeed have concluded he either doesn't 'get it' or has the wrong attitude to be a good officer.

He wonders if there was some disciplinary history with either or both of them. He's not sure if he should have checked into that--if I had would it have changed my report? I guess I didn't expect to be in command so I hadn't asked about the protocol...

He makes a mental note to ask Collins or Vargas when he has a chance.

Then he wonders about why his own name isn't in the report. I can't imagine Rangin had anything good to say in his AMR, he thinks.

He checks to see if he has any immediate assignment. If he's at liberty, he gets in a workout before breakfast--he decides on the good old heavy bag--and then swings by the main mess to eat afterward.

Rangin looks round as he enters the mess. Given the Captain's notes that came out this morning, he doesn't really feel like sitting next to anyone in Security, but fortunately, he can see Kylah looking in his direction. It occurs to him that he ought to explain what happened last night after she fell asleep, that is nothing, but also what her thoughts were on the Disciplinary Report.

He nods to her, noting the empty chairs and heads off to find a large cooked breakfast and associated mug of coffee before heading across to her.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" Rangin asks Kylah when he arrives.

"Please do," Kylah says, trying not to show too much affection in her gaze--but it is difficult to hide the fondness engendered by Velir's typically polite request. How could he think she would mind?

She waits for him to be seated, then adds softly, "I think I owe you an apology--and my gratitude. I cannot remember exactly what happened but I believe I fell asleep while you were talking. It was not due to the company, I assure you. I was just so tired. I did not mean to be rude."

Lifting her fork again, she idly moves her eggs around the plate, pretending to pay close attention to them instead of Velir. "And thank you for... well, everything. The game, the conversation, the... the blanket." Her gaze lifts to hold steady on his. "For the first time in weeks I did not dream of the Sakathian creatures. I slept well because I dreamt of you."

Jeremi returns Ben's kiss. She puts her hand on top of his hand on her hip, to caress it and to guide it away from where it might wander. "We have watch in 30 minutes and I need coffee." She kisses him again, then slides out of bed, grabs her satchel and clothes and goes into the head.

Cooper frowns good-naturedly but doesn't insist. "Coffee it is, then," he says, grabbing his things. "I'll meet you in the Mess Hall in a few minutes."

Graham doesn't go on watch for another hour.

Over Rangin's shoulder, Kylah sees Delaney enter the Mess Hall. He sees her, looks away and goes to the replicator slot to get his meal.

You hear a bosun's whistle, and then Singh's voice sounds throughout the ship. "All hands, this is the Captain. We have new orders from Starfleet and will be breaking orbit in two hours. All departments, prepare for deep space. Thank you. That is all."

Moments later, each of you get a message on your communicators and shipboard comm accounts, asking you to meet the First Officer in Conference Room 1 in 15 minutes.

Once dressed, Collins double-times it to her cabin, tosses her satchel on her bunk, then to the mess hall to meet Cooper. She stops at the replicator for a protein bar and coffee in a travel mug. By the time she spots Ben, it's time to head to the Conference room. She hurries up to him, kisses him on the cheek, "Captain's orders, new mission meeting. Dinner?" and makes a dash for it as soon as he responds.

Graham unties the wraps from his hands. Heavy bag will have to wait. It crosses his mind that Vargas might want to see him because of the last mission.

He chuckles out loud softly, wondering what might have been in Rangin's AMR. Vargas is a tough old bastard, he thinks. Maybe Rangin's AMR will earn me an atta boy: 'Ens. Graham used a security camera to check in on a member of the landing party. Ens. Graham was mean to a murder suspect. I am also fairly certain Ens. Graham may have hurt a fly.'

He pulls his hair into a pony tail and puts on his uniform. On his way he stops to grab a quick coffee and...a donut. Breakfast of safety officers for hundreds of years, he muses.

Cooper says, "Of course," and returns the kiss, with interest.

Graham is surprised to find that the shipboard donuts are quite good - the whole-wheat glazed and blueberry ones, especially.

Cmdr. Vargas and the chief investigator, Cmdr. Jadwiga Kalinowski, meet you one by one in the conference room. At Kalinowski's request, each of you swears a short, recorded affidavit specifically as to your personal knowledge of admissions by - and the evidence against - Palver, Hardin and the Hsus. "Before this case goes to trial, these affidavits will be useful to show to defense counsel," she says. "They might even lead to plea agreements."

Graham knows - but does not say aloud - that the affidavits might also be admitted at trial if anything happens to him and his shipmates in the meantime, such that they were unable or unavailable to testify. The Yorktown has been known to go in harm's way, after all.

Kalinowski then shakes each of you by the hand and thanks you for your work on the case; Vargas murmurs something similar. If you have any questions for either, now seems an opportune time to ask.

n/m - ninjaed by the GM

In Kylah's affidavit, in addition to all her other statements, she includes her beliefs about the Trimalchio crew--despite allegedly having been cleared of responsibility--may have been responsible for the subspace attack on the resort security. She also suggests the possibility that Lt. Palver, from the research lab, might have been responsible, not to mention he could have also been the source of the epinephrine that may have been used to eradicate the spore effects from the other suspects--given that there might be some distant matrimonial link between him and Fellim Palver.

She adds that there is still no explanation for the fact that according to Lt.--now Ensign--Kjaerstad and Lt. Ferguson, the transporter signals in Fastolfe's house were dated at least a full day before Hardin arrived--and as many as three days before their arrival--which belies the so-called evidence that Hardin was responsible for the transports. Of the currently known conspirators, only Fellim Palver and the Hsus were on hand to have used the transporter to send anything to Fastolfe's house.

Finally, she asks to speak to Vargas alone, if he has a chance.

Graham decides it's not the best time to make a joke about the fact that in Security affidavits for ongoing cases before you shipped out on your next mission were often called "Kirk-a-davits" as word got out that any redshirt assigned to Capt. James T. Kirk's Enterprise ought not to leave any loose ends behind.

Speaking of loose ends... Graham realizes there are still a lot of outstanding questions, but he's comfortable leaving it to Kalinowski and her team. He'd had a partner once--smart little guy, kind of like a more practical version of Rangin--who'd told him "I get your M-O, Booker, you're a 'get 'em off the street' type of guy, not an 'Hercule Poirot' sleuth-type. It suits me fine," hed said. "You draw the bad guys' fire and keep 'em out of my way while guys like me sift through the details."

Graham's sure the forensic accountants, specialist interrogators and prosecutors will puzzle out all the details.

He's certainly not going to air any Yorktown dirty laundry in front of Kalinowski, so he saves any questions he had in mind for Vargas for another time. He politely acknowledges the senior officers' thanks.

Collins is proud of Graham, Rangin, Kylah, and T'Var for what they each contributed to the investigation, but is not convinced that her limited involvement helped at all. She nonetheless smiles at the right times and nods when appropriate.

Rangin signs his affidavit and acknowledges the thanks from the senior officers.

Once done, and while the group is still there, he heads across to the former LT JG. and now Ens. Delaney to how he is doing.

The group is not still there; each of you met one at a time with Vargas and Kalinowski. Delaney has left by the time Rangin emerges from the conference room.

Vargas agrees to meet half an hour later with Kylah in his office. "Yes, Ensign?" he asks after she takes a seat.

Kylah sits and clasps her clammy hands tightly together to keep from fidgeting. "First, sir, I want to apologize for my errors and inadequacy during this mission. I want to assure you--and I will assure Lt. Thalen as well--that I will work hard to improve my skills and avoid the mistakes I made during the investigation. In particular, I regret the questioning of the witnesses and suspects, where I believe my failure to obtain whatever information they might have provided me was due to my being too emotional, impulsive and inexperienced. I fear I seemed to engender hostility and truculence where I wished to inspire confidence and trust. It was ineffective and I regret that my interrogations were not more fruitful."

"The same problems..." She hesitates, then forces herself to go on. "The same problems hindered me at the end of the mission, when Mr. Palver held us captive. I believe my behavior was unworthy of... not just a Starfleet officer, but of an Elasian woman. I was of no use to my comrades, short of trying to draw Mr. Palver's attention to me--and in the end I do not know if that worked or not, since I was, to my shame, unconscious." Her ability to hold Vargas's gaze falters, and it takes a few seconds for her to face him again. "The circumstances triggered... something of which I am not proud. I was overwhelmed by fear and powerlessness.

"Those are not excuses, sir, but reasons. If you can recommend any training that will help me conquer such reactions, I would be very grateful. If not--and I understand it is not your role to tutor a callow officer in such things--I will nevertheless work on being better prepared. On being stronger-willed. I do not want to lose control ever again." She emphasizes the words both for Vargas and herself. "There is more, sir, if you will allow me the time."

The First Officer nods. "I commend you, Ensign, on your willingness to acknowledge your own shortcomings, as well as your courage in being willing to either praise or criticize your shipmates, as appropriate. That reflects well on you, and on your uniform. I've always believed we learn more from our mistakes than from what we get right. Misplaced loyalty can also blind us to necessary change. Your handling of the situation in the resort's transporter room, and your capture of Mrs. Hsu, are much to your credit. Although it's clear that you also had some problems and made some mistakes on this mission, I suspect you've learned from them, and that you'll be even more effective in the future. What else would you like to tell me?"

T'Var looks forward to putting this mission behind her and beginning a new one.

Collins starts her watch. The happiness she felt last night has dissipated and it's now just another day aboard the Yorktown. She wonders what the next mission will be about, and if she'll be included in the core group.

Kylah is encouraged by Vargas's words, and she gathers her thoughts before continuing. "Thank you, sir. Regarding my criticisms of others, I hope you do not mind my saying so, but I want to thank you for taking my report about some of the lapses in command into consideration. I must admit I did not believe there would be any reprimands, and I only hope... I hope the lapses were not my fault. To some degree I feel the failures were my responsibility. I regret not having risen to the challenge and opportunity granted to me by Ensign Graham, when he put me in temporary charge of operations at the resort. I--" Her mouth is dry and she tries to clear her throat. "I think I would have been shown more respect if I had earned it. I did try, but clearly I fell short. I know it is unlikely that I will be in a similar position in the near future, but regardless, I will strive to be ready, next time, for whatever requirements are placed upon me."

She wants very much to wipe the perspiration from her hands but does not move other than to lift her chin slightly. "Finally, sir, while I did not rise to the occasion as I wish I had, I believe others did. First, I would like to stress that Mr. Graham was enormously helpful when I was alone in the transporter room area. If he had not taught me how to properly enter and sweep a room, and guided me through that process before I had to blast the door open, I would have found it very difficult to continue.

"I do not know if you have plans to... to make any recommendations for promotion, or add any commendations for noteworthy achievements, but... if it will help at all... I would again like to stress the fine work done by Ensign Velir Rangin during the mission. During the investigation, I believe he was more effective at maintaining focus and unit cohesion--as much as anyone could--than anyone else, including the two mission leaders, with all due respect to their greater experience.

"Before Lt. Collins became indisposed, she was already showing what I now believe were signs of her--her medical condition. When her illness distracted and hindered her decision-making abilities, Ensign Rangin was the one who stepped forward to advise her, to re-convene meetings that had been ended abruptly before all members of the landing party had reported. He discreetly guided her and helped us all keep on track to follow our original assignment, which at the time was simply determining the eligibility of WR&R for contract renewal.

"And once our objective changed to a criminal investigation, Mr. Rangin continued to display extraordinary qualities of leadership, within the parameters of the proper hierarchy. His methodical persistence was responsible for obtaining some of the most important evidence; his display of calm strength and loyalty gave me much-needed support when I felt out of my depth when I was in control of operations at the resort. And above all, his bravery and what I can only imagine was extraordinary mental control allowed him to escape Mr. Palver's clutches and singlehandedly take him into custody, saving both me and Mr. Graham from... at the very least... brainwashing. All in all, I wish I could have displayed such qualities, including grace under pressure, which I believe make him worthy of a higher rank than he possesses."

Kylah looks down, again wishing she had been more useful in the mission. "Perhaps all these things are to be expected from a Starfleet officer, and do not merit any special recognition. In my limited experience I found them extraordinary, but I am aware it is certainly not my place to say whether Mr. Rangin should receive notice or not. I just... I think it would be inspiring to me, and to others, to see such qualities recognized in some way. Forgive me for being so forward, sir. That is all."

Rangin looks around sadly for Delaney wondering how bad the guy must feel after that demotion, probably really cut up given the circumstance.

Not seeing him, Rangin heads off for his next shift in Xenobiology and drops him a message asking how he's doing, all the while wondering if Palver might have had more effect on the group than expected. After all, Rangin had suspected Delaney at one point of being involved. What if that suspicion had come from Palver? What if Delaney's hastiness was provoked by Palver.

Rangin shook his head, there were so many things you could guess and double guess about what happened, the best thing to do was accept that it had happened and live with the consequences. Rangin wonders if she ask Dr Villa that afternoon, if they had any way they could detect Fellim Palver's influence? But then what if everyone had been affected, how would they know what thoughts and actions had been theirs and what had been controlled.

What if Palver had made him act like an idiot in the nightclub. Rangin crushes the thought down hard, not just because it was embarrassing, but because it was looking for an excuse, for something he had done. No, what had happened, had happened and he had to live with the consequences regardless.

Vargas makes some notes on a data tablet and says, "Thank you, Ensign. I don't expect any promotions or commendations to come from this mission, but I'll keep your views in mind in speaking with the Captain. Carry on."

Collins is assigned to the Bridge's Security station, but there is little to do at the moment. The Yorktown remains in orbit of Omicron Ceti III.

Delaney responds to Rangin's message about an hour later: Thanks. Not a good time for me, obviously, but I appreciate your thoughts. DELANEY.

Kylah thanks Vargas and leaves, not entirely satisfied but glad she did her part to help Velir's talent get some recognition, even if it appears only Security officers are entitled to plaudits on the Yorktown as long as Vargas is First Officer. At least I am unlikely to be placed on another mission any time soon, she thinks with relief. She needs to keep her head down as best as she can.

That said, Kylah has every intention of finding out exactly what Kjaerstad's rationale was for placing her in harm's way. And I must also see how Delaney is doing, she knows, unsure which goal is more uncomfortable. She hopes Delaney will not blame her. Her final task to close out this mission must be to report to her uncle. If Aldaan has heard any of the reports yet, he will be livid if Kylah does not send him her version of events as soon as possible. The prospect is daunting. If the last mission's report required her to compose only a song to transmit her code, this one may need an entire symphony.

Sighing, she checks her comm account to view her day's schedule and to see if she has any watch duty. Then she will go wherever Thalen has assigned her.

Kylah is due to stand a watch in the Communications Center on Deck 6 at 1400.

Seeing that she has a little time before her watch begins,* Kylah hurries to her quarters to begin composing her coded message to Aldaan. With the requisite bowl of water by her side, Kylah dips her fingertips to moisten them and prepares to strum the delicate crystal strings of her zither. She does not start the message right away, however; instead, troubled, she lets herself play an old, soothing Elasian melody. Her head must be clear before she can decide what exactly to include.

Her Guardian will likely have heard the news of the corruption allegations in Starfleet by the time her message gets to him, so she does not want to waste much time repeating what he already knows. Confirming what she knows will take up little of her song.

After some thought, she remembers something that might not make the news reports: the link between Hardin and the non-Federation Hwuen. Kylah does not recall having been asked about that little nugget of information at all. The very fact that the Hwuen are not members of the Federation makes them potential Klingon allies--and if they have inside information of Hardin or others highly placed in the Federation, they could be quite valuable ones at that.

But even as her fingers automatically move into the right positions to encode this information into a melodic line, Kylah finds herself reluctant to play. The Hwuen frighten her. She understands the Klingons; she understands her own people. The Hwuen... There is something unsavory about them. She cannot forget the chaos that had overtaken her when she 'accidentally' touched Prolun Jaxo. Not to mention the implications about how disturbing their own recreational practices are. If Aldaan truly does convince the Council of Nobles to switch allegiance to the Klingons, are the Hwuen a civilization Kylah would want to have as allies?

She can almost hear Aldaan's answer to such a question: Better allies than enemies.

Her duty is clear: she has no choice but to include them in her message, especially if the news does get out. Aldaan will assuredly wonder why she failed to mention something of such obvious importance.

Kylah closes her eyes and, sighing, begins to play the first notes, the sound ringing sweet and pure and utterly unlike the words they secretly contain.


* I presume

As Rangin arrives in Xenobiology he nods at the others already working in the science offices and heads across to the area to find out what Lt. Cmdr. Roble has in store for him.

Looking around the office, Rangin thanks his lucky stars that he's back in one piece again unlike last time, unlike Lt. JG. Fujishiro. He briefly glances at each of those working and wonders which one of them is likely to take her place as Assistant Science Officer instead. Each of them likely to be a far more worthy candidate than he would be, but he is saddened on how little he knows them as well as he wants to. Then again, it has only been a few weeks since he arrived and, if anything, he is the outsider amongst the group. That would have to change.

Of course, they aren't the only things he wants to find out. Thoughts of Kylah send a shiver of pleasure across his shoulders tempered by the fact that he doesn't know that much about her either. She is definitely more secretive and she was scared about mentioning something. Rangin sighs wondering what it could be she was so close to telling him.

So just like revealing the results of the experiments he is about to undertake, he is going to do the same with Kylah and find out who she really is. He hopes it's easier than it might be if someone tries to find out about him. More importantly, he hopes he isn't going to be repeating history. This time he is going to learn from it, not repeat it.

Kylah does have some time before her watch begins. She may discuss the Hwuen in a supplemental AMR, if she didn't do so in her original submission.

Rangin's Science colleagues nod or say hello as he enters. Roble, he sees, has asked him to review the last three months of the major Federation xenobiological journals to see if there is anything that might be of use.

Graham's content--in point of fact, relieved--to report for whatever his duty assignment is onboard for the day.

As his watch begins, Graham is asked to take inventory of the secondary hull's four arms lockers' contents, a relatively mindless task that goes without incident. No phasers are missing, fortunately.

The Yorktown breaks orbit on schedule, bound for the heavily-populated Federation world of Anubis. Details of the next mission have not yet been announced. Collins is on the Bridge to see Omicron Ceti III fall behind and dwindle on the viewscreen as the starship heads out of the system and into deep space.

Mission #4 has begun: http://www.mellophant.com/forums/sho...ex-Aelyrr-quot

Please consider this thread closed.