Star Trek RPG - Mission #4: "Codex Aelyrr"

Rangin details the new set of coordinates to Transporter Room one, and sends Ens. St Croix the frequencies for tracking the zither and the current locations of the lifesigns in the local area.

Then all he can do is sit back and wait for the scanner to confirm the two genomes and wonder who the person is?

Graham looks at the bartender, then around the bar, slowly, and back to the bartender. He sits at the bar. "We appreciate your help confirming that some of our colleagues were here earlier," he says drily. He gestures for Rawlings to approach. "But we'd like to make sure it was our missing colleague, not simply one of the other crew on shore leave. Was this the woman who was here earlier?" He gestures again for Rawlings to pull up an image on the tricorder.

Rangin refines the scan parameters but learns little more than he already knows about the solitary, stationary figure far below. There are limits even to the Yorktown's advanced sensors.

The bartender looks at the picture Rawlings shows him on the tricorder's small display screen. The older blonde woman - Graham doesn't recognize her himself, although she is in Starfleet red - looks nothing like Kylah. The bartender says at once, "No, that's not her."

The Captain rubs her chin and leans back in her chair. "I understand Ens. Kylah is a friend of yours, Mr. Rangin. Why don't you go along with the second Security team? You too, Dr. T'Var. Just in case."

Graham looks puzzled, turns to look at the bartender and then tricorder, and then says to Rawlings, "What about Ens. Kylah?"

Rawlings looks at Graham and raises an eyebrow. He coughs. "We have, uh, several Ens. Kylahs, as you know, sir. How about this one?" He brings up another picture, again of a woman in Starfleet red. She is black and has noticeable freckles on her wide face. Graham vaguely remembers her as being a warp drive technician, but doesn't recall her name.

The bartender scoffs, "That's not her, either. How many officers named Kylah do you have missing, anyway?"

Graham shakes his head and sighs, gesturing with his hands at Rawlings like "what the hell are you doing?" then turns back to the bartender and asks, "Computer problems, I guess. Maybe you could describe her?"

The bartender sighs heavily. "You Feddies... well, she was short, brunette, nice curves. Soft voice. Pale skin."

"Oh, that Kylah!" Rawlings says, winking at Graham on the side away from the bartender. He brings up her correct service-record picture on the tricorder screen. "Is this her?"

"Yes...." says the bartender after a moment. "But she didn't look that good. She looked kind of tired, or worried."

Rangin's head flicks round from looking at the display to view the back of the Captain's chair where the suggestion came from. Eyes slightly wide and heart beginning to race, he freezes in situ as he tries to work out what he should say. One small part of him is terrified to move, not wanting to go in case it is Kylah, if he doesn't see her, if she is not there, then perhaps it never happened. The other part of him knows that he needs to face it, to find out what is down there. It was his scans that detected it, he should be there to discover the result, rightly or wrongly.

"Yes Captain." his voice still calm despite his internal turmoil, "she is..."

He quickly switches the scan for determining the type of humanoid to just that of detecting humanoids, perhaps a little something that Ens. Kylah would not like the rest of the ship knowing. It is something he is going to ask her, though, along with all the other secrets she had been hiding from him.

"...on my way."

He stands nervously, leaving the science station ready for someone to take his place and heads to the turbolift to join Dr T'Var in heading for Transporter Room 1.

Lt. Joseph Bancroft, the astrophysicist, relieves Rangin at the Science post. Ens. Nell Carmichael, a medic, takes the Life Sciences console. Rangin and T'Var get on the turbolift.

Collins turns to Jones "Could you bring up a picture of Kylah on your tricorder, please? Let's see if any of the people around here saw her go in or out."

Jones does so. There are only two dozen or so people along the street. Several glance at the picture and shake their heads; one man says with great certainty that he saw her at a club across town yesterday. Most passersby decline to respond, however, or walk the other way as you approach them.

A gray-and-white aircar with THOTH CONSTABULARY emblazoned on the side drops from the sky. Two uniformed officers, in dark gray with silver badges, both Human, one female and one male, get out and approach Collins. The man says, "I'm Sergeant Marcucci; this is Officer Talbot. We heard about your missing shipmate. We have her on our watchlist, but no news yet. Anything here?"

Collins returns the officer's greeting "I'm Lt.JG Collins, this is LT JG Jones, and Ensign Kjaerstad" she says as she indicates her shipmates. "No, we haven't gotten anywhere yet. All we know for certain is this bar is the last known location of our missing ensign's communicator. Ensigns Rawlings and Graham are in there now to see if anyone has any additional information. Maybe they'll have better luck with the bartender than I did."

It's all Rangin can do to stop himself fidgeting nervously in the turbolift along his his more impassive colleague. Thoughts keep running through his head of what they will find. It's only a minute or so to get to the transporter room, meet up with Security and beam down. Only a minute or two, so why does it feel like he is wading through treacle and that time has slowed to a crawl.

If she is there, what does he say, how should he react, after all she's the one who is in the middle of nowhere, the one with all the secrets, the one who abandoned him...the one he still hopes is safe and unharmed and generally furious about how she ended up there.

All Rangin wants to do now is get it over and done with, for better of for worse.

Sgt. Marcucci says, "Ysobel's isn't a typical watering hole for Fleet guys - or gals - dirtside. Any idea why your missing officer might have come here?"

The turbolift whisks the Coridanite xenobiologist and the Vulcan physician to a corridor just a short walk from Transporter Room 1. There, they find Ens. St. Croix and the three other members of her Security team; she introduces them as Spec/1 Fox and Crewmen Harbaoui and Wallach. Dr. T'Var has her medikit and medical tricorder, of course; what does Rangin wish to take other than his communicator?

Graham's eyes narrow slightly, but he nods acknowledgment without comment. Worried...about what? Or who?

The other Starfleet officer--can you describe him?
Did they talk? Did you happen to overhear anything they said?
Did she talk to anyone else in here? Go anywhere else besides this main room?
Did she you speak with you? Did she ask you for anything? Directions? Help?

Rangin decides to treat it like any other away mission. In some ways that state of mind is what he needs right now: calm, dispassionate and relaxed.

He picks up a tricorder and a phaser-1 to go along with him.

Nia keeps her gaze contained to mildly curious, but inwardly she's vacillating between concern and amusement. Five--no, six security officers, plus a doc and a... what's Rangin again? Right, a xenobiologist, because that'll be useful on the ground. All for one missing ensign barely past her first month's anniversary on board. She shakes her head infinitesimally. Note to self: in your next incarnation, try to come back as Elasian royalty.

"Am I alone here, or is this overkill?" she says to Bennett in a nearly silent murmur, "I'll say this, the kid had better hope something happened to her. If Vargas's deployed half the security staff and it turns out she was just off buying a new tiara, he'll wrap it around her neck."

In a louder voice, she turns to the aforementioned First Officer. "Excuse me, Commander?" she says respectfully. "Have we checked the transporter records as far as where Mr. Kylah beamed down to the planet in the first place? Did she have any specific reason for going to that particular neighborhood in Thoth? For that matter, do we know that she didn't ask one of the transporter engineers to beam her to Hathor?"

Even as she speaks, beneath her panel her hand busily types on her communicator:

COLLINS, LT JG - Evidence suggests Kylah in Hathor, town 70km SE from Thoth. Zither belonging to her located there, plus 1 lifeform. Thought you'd want to know. Any fast local transport should be checked. - ONN, NIA, LT

On a whim, she copies Graham on the message. Nia bets that a man with his experience is probably doing the bulk of the witness interviewing--or intimidating, as the case may be.

"Excuse me a moment" Collins says when she hears her communicator beep. She reads Lt. Onn's message and replies Thank you, very helpful, will investigate. She hands her communicator to Jones so that he can read the incoming message as well, and turns to the local cops. "Sergeant Marcucci, what's the fastest way to Hathor? Something that could get us there in, say, five minutes or less?" Collins' demeanor is businesslike but polite. These local guys could be up and up or they could be on the take, she thinks, but best not to piss them off in either case.

The bartender describes the other officer in such a way that Graham knows it must be Rangin. He says, "They did talk, a little, but I didn't hear what they said. She was up and down a couple of times. She talked to me and also to a woman who was ill in the bathroom when she was in there. Those were the only places she went, I think. She only spoke to me about ordering drinks... oh, and about finding passage offworld."

Bennett shrugs and says quietly, "A missing crewmember, alone, with her issues and a nonfunctioning communicator? You might want the same 'overkill' if it was you."

Vargas says, "Thank you, Mr. Onn. We're looking into that. There's no record of anyone being beamed down to Hathor."

The police sergeant thinks a moment. "We could take two of you there in our car, if you like, but the quickest way would just be to beam there."

St. Croix, Rangin, T'Var and the others step up onto the transporter platform. "Energize," St. Croix says.

Collins quietly asks Jones to scan for residual transporter energy in the vicinity, then turns to Marcucci and asks "Do you have site-to-site transporter capability here?"

Nia acknowledges Vargas's comment, then turns to Bennett with a raised eyebrow. "News to me that she has 'issues,'" she murmurs. "But since she's new, you'd obviously know her better than I do, considering your job. All I know is the shipload of gossip that's surrounded her over the past couple of weeks--well, since she boarded, really."

With a shrug, she glances down at the return message from Collins and places her communicator back on her belt. "Issues," she repeats. "Now you've made me curious. Not that it's my business. But trust me, I'm no ghoul. Whatever her problems are, I hope she's safe and well and survives to get chewed out by Vargas--or, if she's lucky, he'll let Cheverez do the honors." Nia purses her lips in thought before continuing. "Truth is, if something has happened to her under our watch--aside from the personal tragedy--there could be some serious diplomatic repercussions."

Rangin stands on the platform, breathing deeply to relax himself, trying to prepare for what he might see on the planet below.

As St Croix calls out, he tenses ready to spring into whatever action is required, unwilling to be caught by surprise.

Passage offworld? What the hell... Graham thinks. And what the hell is Rangin doing coming back on duty like he has nothing to report...?

Graham glances quickly at Rawlings, then back to the bartender. He realizes he has a message, but for the moment stays focused on the bartender.

"Why would someone who just came in on a starship want another way offworld--did she tell you?" He leans a little toward the bartender and asks in a lower voice. "And did you give her any advice on how?"

Using his tricorder, Jones scans for residual transporter traces in the immediate vicinity and finds three, faintly, but none more recent than six hours before. Sgt. Marcucci says, "No, we don't have site-to-site transporter capability. But there's a public transporter station a few blocks away, if you can't use your ship's."

Bennett looks regretful. "I shouldn't have said that - please forget it, and don't repeat it. I don't like to pass on scuttlebutt."

The bartender shrugs. "She seemed unhappy - like she had something to hide, or to get away from. She didn't say anything specific about that, though. All I said was that we had lots of starship crews through here, and that there were several even then, when we were talking."

St. Croix, Rangin, T'Var and the others rematerialize on a paved, weed-infested open area. Several run-down industrial buildings are nearby, but their eyes are immediately drawn to the crumpled form of Ens. Kylah.

Graham's increasingly confused--and agitated. What the hell is going on here?

He glances around the room. "Who did she speak to of these crew? Anyone who's still here? Anybody you recognized?" He pauses a moment. "Did she leave with anyone?"

Collins's communicator beeps. When she answers, Cmdr. Vargas says, "We've sent down a second landing party to Hathor, about 70 km southeast of you. Scans detected an Elasian crystal there. Ens. St. Croix is in command."

The bartender looks around. "No, she didn't speak to any of these people. She talked to someone from one of the free traders - I think it was the Scamp. Maybe the Wistful Penelope? Not sure. Anyway, I didn't notice when she left, or with who."

"Acknowledged," Collins says into the communicator, "Thank you, Sir. Collins out." She turns to the others. "Sergeant, we have another landing party in Hathor now. We appreciate any local support you can lend them. I don't know yet if there will be any follow up investigation, but may we contact you for assistance if need be?"

After Marcucci answers, she will ask Kjaerstad to go in and tell Graham and Rawlings about the other group.

"Of course," the sergeant says, touching his cap. "Give me a second, and I'll pass the word to the Hathor police."

Kjaerstad goes into the bar and quietly tells Graham and Rawlings about the second landing party.

"Thank you," Collins offers her hand to Marcucci to shake. She then turns to Jones "Do you think you'll get a different reading if you scan for transporter energy at the back of the bar?"

"Oh no, what have I done?" Rangin whispers to himself as he looks across at the battered and collapsed figure lying not far away. His worst fears have come to pass, Kylah lying there bloodstained, in an unfamiliar and ripped dress, awkwardly holding the bag that had her zither in.

He cannot bring himself to move closer, whatever had befallen her, he wonders if it would have been different if he had not shouted at her, if they had talked, and then she would not be lying there unmoving amongst the dust and grime.

But she was a responsible adult, capable of making her own decisions and those decisions had led her here. But as her friend, Rangin should have been there for her, to stop her doing whatever she had done that had led to this, regardless of what it was, or how he felt about her.

Shaking himself free of the paralysis that his inner turmoil gripped him with, though his feet will still not move, Rangin pulls out his communicator and calls back to the ship. "Rangin to Yorktown, we have located Ens. Kylah, She's down, please standby."

He looks across glassy-eyed to where St Croix is and, still unwilling to fully accept the truth in front of him, asks "Orders?"

Well she didn't leave with Rangin, that's for goddamned sure, Graham thinks. Because he's back on the ship and she's nowhere to be found. Then after second he thinks, Or she did leave with him...and that looks even worse.

When he's interrupted by Kjaerstad, Graham excuses himself from speaking with the bartender asks Rawlings and Kjaerstad to show Kylah's--real--picture to the other bar patrons and ask if they'd seen her earlier in the day (and any other relevant information if they had).

He hails Yorktown to ask them to determine if Scamp and are still in port, as their crew may have had contact with Kylah--then remembers to check the message he received earlier.

He's surprised it's from Onn. He's more surprised by the content--but appreciative. He even nods just slightly. Can't have too many friends who appreciate the value of back channeling information.


Their "meeting" at the pool comes to mind and for a moment "back channeling" carries with it a very different possible meaning...

Then he full processes the message. Looks afraid. Getting off planet. Somehow, in transit--running from...someone on planet?...Rangin?

Any theory he can come up with is outlandish but there's not a lot that fits. And why the hell would Rangin leave her in this shithole bar and come back on duty without a goddamned word?


He's too impatient to follow chain of command--at least I know I can trust St. Croix. He steps to spot away from other parts and direct channels her. "Graham to St. Croix--what have you found?"

T'Var quickly moves to Kylah's side and does a thorough medical scan. The doctor is confident the others will protect both her and the fallen ensign if need be.

Sgt. Marcucci shakes hands with Lt. JG Collins and says goodbye. He and his partner climb back into their aircar and soon rise out of sight. Jones says, "No, ma'am, my scan should cover at least 100m in every direction."

Cmdr. Vargas acknowledges Rangin's report.

Ens. St. Croix says, "Mr. Rangin, please scan the vicinity." She tells the other Security officers, "Fan out, gentlemen. See if you can find anyone who might have something to do with... what's happened." She answers Graham's call, and gives him a full report.

From the Yorktown, Ens. Mary Three Crows next responds to Graham. "The Scamp is still in orbit. What was the other ship you mentioned? There was apparently a transmission glitch."

Through her scan, Dr. T'Var learns that Kylah is concussed, with a hairline fracture to her skull, a broken wrist, two broken ribs and some minor contusions. Her condition is serious but by no means terminal. She is capable of being transported, or the doctor could treat her there.

"Okay." Collins replies to Jones, then opens her communicator and calls her boss. "Collins to Vargas, we're getting very little of use here right now, but the local police have been helpful, and will be available if we need them. Should we join the other team or return to the ship?"

Vargas says, "Prepare to return to the ship. Mr. Kylah has been found unconscious and we're now waiting for a medical update."

Rawlings and Kjaerstad have by now shown Kylah's picture to everyone in the bar, as Graham ordered. No one remembers - or will admit to - having seen her other than the bartender.

"Acknowledged, Sir. Stand by for transport. Collins out." She puts away the communicator and heads for the bar entrance. "C'mon," she says to Jones.

T'Var contacts the Yorktown regarding Kylah's medical condition. "I would recommend transport to the ship for immediate treatment," the doctor says.

At St Croix's order, Rangin starts scanning with his tricorder, and leaving T'Var to take care of Kylah. He starts to follow back where she came from, figuring it would answer a few questions. He had found her, now his job was to find out how she got here in the first place.

One thought did bring some slight relief. If he hadn't thought to look for her zither, they might never have found her, or if they had, perhaps when it was too late.

There's a tight, cold knot in Graham's stomach when he hears the news. His voice is measured and flat as he responds to Three Crows. "Wistful Penelope, according to our source. Maybe an inaccurate recollection--check for phonetic matches."

He direct messages Collins. "Permission to return to Yorktown, L-T? I have some...information...I'll fill you in on face-to-face."

While he waits for a reply, Graham lowers his communicator and returns to the bar. He leans on the bar and begins almost offhandedly. "Thanks for your time. Oh, and we found our crewmate, by the way." He lowers his voice. "Pretty badly beat up." He holds the bartender's eye and adds matter-of-factly. "If there's anything you might have 'forgotten' to tell us that we learn from her, I'm going to be back, and you're not going to like it."

As she enters the bar, Collins hears her communicator beep. She reads the message and goes over to Graham. She taps hims on the shoulder and says "I have information, too. And we're face to face now. What's with the cryptic, Booker?"

With Collins' surprise entrance, Graham doesn't wait for the bartender to respond. He takes Collins' arm and gestures toward an isolated spot.

Graham stands close to Collins and speaks in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard. He shakes his head. "There is some weird shit going on here, L-T. According to our friend over there, Kylah came in here, looking like hell, with Rangin, and..." He pauses. Asked about getting offworld. He decides to keep that to himself for the moment. "So what the hell is Rangin doing coming back on duty without so much as a word--or for that matter not saying fucking boo when she's reported missing..." His intention to draw Collins aside to see if she has any insight into her roommate's behavior is being rapidly sidelined by Graham becoming increasing pissed off. "I'd like to get back to the ship to...investigate," he says tightly.

"They found her." Collins tries to reassure Graham, "They'll take care of her. I'm sure she'll be fine. What makes you think Rangin would know why...?" Then it dawns on her that Rangin must be the one to whom Kylah was referring when she bought the dress on OC3. "Oh! No, I have no idea why he came back without her. Yeah, we'll ask him later. Vargas wants us back on the ship, anyway. Let's go." She looks around for Rawlings and Kjaerstad and motions to them, and to Jones, to come along as well.

Once all five of them are outside, Collins will open her communicator and call for the beam up of the landing party.

Three Crows checks with Anubis Starport Control and tells Graham, "The Wistful Penelope is still here but scheduled to break orbit in ten minutes."

"Acknowledged, Doctor," says Chief Nguyen in Transporter Room 1. "Stand by." The physician and her patient soon are beamed back up to the Yorktown. Two medics arrive almost immediately with an antigrav gurney, carefully place Kylah on it, and move quickly through the corridors to Sickbay. Dr. Villa, looking worried, meets them there.

St. Croix, Rangin and the others remain behind. Rangin's tricorder scan reveals several traces of Kylah's blood leading off the open plaza and towards one of the old industrial buildings. Some of the blood stains are visible to the naked eye and still wet.

The bartender crosses his arms. "I've told you everything I know. You Feddies sure are a polite, grateful bunch, aren't you? Makes me glad to have helped you."

Collins and her entire landing party beam up to the ship. Chief Nguyen tells her that Dr. T'Var and Ens. Kylah are already on their way to Sickbay.

"Thank you," Collins replies to Nguyen. She starts to leave the transporter room, intending to check in on Kylah, but turns back a moment. "Is everyone from the other landing party back?"

Nguyen says, "No, Ens. St. Croix and the rest of her party are still down there."

Rangin's fingers tighten on the tricorder, the knuckles turning white as he sees the trail left behind by Kylah as she had made her slow, tortuous path from the buildings. He shook his head in grim determination, whatever had happened to her is recent, possibly those responsible are still around and the clench in his gut urging him on to find them and carry out a similar act.

Stopping to catch his breath, he knows that what he wants and what he should do are opposite. Find them, catch them, turn them over to the authorities for what they did. Doing unto them as they did unto Kylah, would only make him as bad as those perpetrators, or possibly Ens. Graham, who would no doubt take great delight in such a matter.

"Mr St Croix," Rangin calls out quietly, "there's a good chance the attackers are still in the vicinity given how fresh some of the trail is. I'm going to find where Kylah came in from, it's somewhere over there," he gestures with one arm, "and try to work out what happened. Please find and apprehend the culprits."

Collins walks over to the wall to tap the communicator "Collins to Captain Singh and Commander Vargas. Permission for Ensign Graham and me to assist Ensign St. Croix and her team?"

St. Croix says, "Understood. Go ahead." As Rangin follows the blood trail towards one building, he hears Crewman Wallach say, "Tricorder scan shows no one in the immediate area. There are several dozen people in the adjoining residential area, though."

Singh says, "Permission granted." Collins and Graham beam back down at once, and find St. Croix, three other Security personnel - Spec/1 Fox and Crewmen Harbaoui and Wallach - on a large, weedy paved plaza surrounded by run-down industrial buildings. Rangin is walking away from them. Upon seeing Collins, St. Croix stands at attention.

"At ease, Ensign. Sit-rep, please." Collins says as she looks around to see what the others are investigating. She notices Rangin heading towards a building. "Graham, go" she points in Rangin's direction "Back him up." Collins then turns her attention back to St. Croix to listen to what the security officer has to tell her.

Graham stares at Collins for just a split second, catching her eye and wondering, first, whether she had something in mind, and then, whether he should say something along the lines of 'backing him up' is the last thing I have in mind... Then he decides against it, and after an instant he moves as quickly as he can move-nonetheless taking note of each bloodstain along a trail that tightens the knot in his chest with each drop--pulling up sharply to a position just behind Rangin and to his left.

He leans in and glances at the tricorder over Rangin's shoulder. Graham growls from an inch away from his crew mate's ear, for no one else to hear but Rangin, his jaw tight. "You'd better have a goddamned...good...explanation...for why you were on the bridge while Kylah was crawling across this shithole alone, mister."

Concentrating hard on the tricorder and the readings, Rangin doesn't hear Graham's approach until he hears the voice close to his left ear. Instinct takes over and the next thing he knows, he turns the tricorder on edge and swings it hard back at the source of the voice right behind him, stopping only at the last moment as he recognises the ugly tone as being from Ens. Graham behind him. Wondering if he should have swung harder and kept going, Rangin slowly lowers the tricorder mere inches away from Graham's face before realising that Graham is not in any danger from him. He had already started to move back and out of the way with one hand coming up.

"I hope you have a good explanation for sneaking up on me like that yourself, given I'm trying to follow this trail and make sure I don't miss anything, like anything Kylah's assailants may have left behind, or do you only care more about annoying your shipmates in stupid ways."

Rangin steps back and drops the tricorder to one side and crosses his arms looking furiously back at him. "Why was I on board?" before freeing one arm and gesticulating at him. "Don't be an idiot Graham, shore leave had ended, why wouldn't I be on board?" The tone in his voice saying making clear what Rangin thinks of Graham's question.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a job to do and you're getting on my nerves." Rangin continues, his voice dripping with ire, "You want to help, stand there, shut up and stay out of my way. I'd rather you didn't trample all over the trail." before turning his back on Graham and getting his tricorder ready. "You know, you could try thinking, once in a while." Rangin dramatically taps the side of his head before going back to scanning muttering something indistinct and vulgar under his breath about the last thing Rangin wanting is Graham getting in the way while he tries to find out what happened

Dr. T'Var briefs Dr. Villa on what she's already learned about Kylah's condition. The unconscious young woman is gently transferred to a bed by the medics, and the two doctors conduct a more intensive scan with Sickbay's more sophisticated instruments. The scan confirms in greater detail what they already knew - most importantly, and fortunately, there is no sign of brain damage. The doctors scrub and prepare for surgery.

On the Bridge, Bennett says to Onn, "Yes, I can't imagine the Elasians would be pleased if one of their royal family were injured or killed - but they had to know that was a risk in Starfleet."

Rangin doesn't have to go very far to the nearest building, and finds a large, corroded metal door that is just ajar. There are several bloodstains on the floor in the gap between the door and the wall, and a bloody handprint around the edge of the door at about waist level. He pulls it further open, with effort, and sees two bloody handprints smeared on the inside of the door, slightly higher.

St. Croix tells Collins what little they've learned since arriving.

T'Var fills Villa in on Kylah's condition. "Do you recommend a standard course of treatment or something else?" the doctor asks.

"Standard treatment, I believe," says Dr. Villa. Using the technological marvels of Starfleet medicine, she and Dr. T'Var soon mend Kylah's broken bones and heal her bruises. A nurse then cleans her and changes her into a recovery gown. A followup scan shows that all is well. "Let's let her wake on her own," Villa finally says with a smile. "Could be within the hour."

The CMO gives an update to the Captain over the intercom, which Onn overhears. Ens. Three Crows passes the good news along to Collins on the surface.

"Thank you, Three Crows" Collins says and tells the rest of the landing party that Kylah will be just fine. Collins taps up Graham on her communicator and tells him as well, and asks him to pass the news along to Rangin.

"Now then," Collins turns back to St. Croix and the others, "Let's gather as much data as we possibly can from around here, down to the smallest speck, then we'll join Rangin and Graham and help them with the investigation."

"Agreed," T'Var replies. "I am sure Security will wish to speak with Ens. Kylah as soon as possible. However, I believe she should rest a while first."

St. Croix nods. She and the others search the plaza, by eye and by tricorder, but find little of interest. It is apparent that Kylah emerged from the building into which Rangin is heading, making her way out onto the plaza before collapsing and then being found. The surrounding industrial area appears to have been abandoned for at least a decade.

Dr. Villa asks, "Would you like to sit with her? I have another patient to attend to."

Graham's not sure whether he's more taken aback by Rangin's aborted swing with the tricorder, Rangin giving him lip, given the circumstances--or the amount of blood.

The amount of blood, he thinks, glancing quickly around, his mouth dry. Only the fact that he knows Kylah is already onboard, given his estimation of her injuries from what he's seen here, keeps him calm.

But calm is a relative thing...

Graham shuts the door. "Let me rephrase my question," he says tightly, avoiding trampling on any blood spots but otherwise positioning himself squarely in front of Rangin and close enough to be eyeball-to-eyeball if his colleague were taller. "Why did you go to some sleazy dive bar on an unfamiliar planet with Kylah and wind up onboard like you'd just enjoyed a walk in the park while she...wound...up...here?" Each of his last four words are punctuated by a sharp stab of his finger pointing downward to the filthy floor of the room.

He starts to put his hands on his hips but then stops, not quite done. He points sharply at Rangin's chest, stopping a millimeter away from poking the man. "I don't know how the hell you do things on Coridan, but in Starfleet we damn sure don't bug out on our own people when they could be in danger."

"Oh, so this is my fault now or are you just looking to blame this on someone else because you weren't around to protect her." Rangin is now thoroughly exasperated with Graham and just wishes he would go away. "So what happens next or do you just start hitting until you get the answer you want?"

"How about I make it crystal clear for you. I was back on the ship because shore leave was up. I have no idea what sleazy joint you are about and the last time I saw Kylah on leave before now she was physically fine. Got it. Great."

Graham blinks, stunned by Rangin's response.

He sees Rangin's previous harangues in a whole new light. He's still not sure what happened earlier, but the preponderance of evidence is pointing in one direction. So it's all about 'the rules' with you, is it?

Part of him feels like it would be easier if Rangin was in fact a closet violent psychopath--but the fact is he doesn't feel like hitting anyone. He feels sick to his stomach.

Graham takes a step back. "'The last time I saw Kyah she was physically fine.'" He shakes his head. "And that answer makes you feel better, does it? But, hey, you were johnny-on-the-spot getting back on the ship. Congratulations, maybe the captain will give you a commendation for punctuality." His last sentence drips with contempt.

"Take your readings," he says dismissively, moving out of Rangin's way toward the door. "Your priorities are 'crystal clear' to me." He pauses. "But you know what--just for the record, I will make it a point to be around to protect her, try to stay out of the goddamned way."

Back when Bennett commented about what the Elasian government should have expected once it sent a sole representative into Starfleet, Nia just nodded. She didn't bother to say the obvious: that in life, something you expect, and what you actually feel when that something occurs, often have nothing to do with each other. But maybe such cognitive dissonance doesn't fit into Cecilia Bennett's pleasant, orderly world. Or maybe it does and she's too busy being cognitively dissonant herself to realize it.

Shortly thereafter, word came back that the lost little ensign was found battered into unconsciousness, and Nia immediately felt remorse. She offered up a quick prayer to a deity she doesn't really believe in that Ensign Kylah would be all right, and that whoever did this to her would be found damn fast.

Now, with the CMO's good news audible through Singh's communicator, Nia breathes a sigh of relief and sits back in her chair, only just becoming aware that she's been leaning forward, muscles tense as steel wires, since learning of the assault. She stares out at the planet on the viewscreen and, for some reason, finds herself wondering about Kylah's age.

Graduated only a few months ago, isn't that right? Can't be more than 25, not with that face, unless royal life really does keep you young. She swallows and realizes that ever since the girl's injuries were revealed, her mind has been calculating in the background, like a computer running some program while its owner stepped away for a cup of coffee.

"How old is she, anyway?" Nia asks casually, still to Bennett. "There's no need to inform any parents or anything, is there? I don't know what's considered 'adult' on Elas." Even as she speaks, she has a sudden burning need to visit the patient, even though there's no possible reason--much less an explanation--why she'd do so.

"Yes, I would," T'Var replies. The doctor settles herself at Kylah's bedside and will keep a close watch on her condition. "If anything changes, I will notify you immediately," T'Var tells Villa.

T'Var places her hand on Kylah's arm. "I am here," she whispers. "All is well."

Bennett says, "I'm not sure. Early twenties, maybe?" She begins plotting a possible course from Anubis to Starbase 27, just for practice. "She wouldn't have been allowed to join Starfleet if she weren't an adult under her world's laws. I believe it's the Captain's practice to leave it to individual crewmembers to tell their families about any injury in the course of duty, short of death."

Dr. Villa smiles and goes off to see her other patient.

Collins sees Graham and Rangin posturing at each other, which to her means they are not looking for evidence, so she takes her flashlight and slowly sweeps the floor, hoping to find something, anything, useful.

Rangin doesn't bother answering Graham, he's just not worth the effort when there are more important things to concern himself with. He knows nothing about what happened and is blowing smoke, trying to bolster some hardman image and bully those smaller than himself. Yeah, nothing unusual there at all, not to mention the fact that Graham is sounding more and more like a creepy stalker with a Kylah fascination.

He shudders at the thought and goes back to scanning, shaking his head. He probably should let Kylah know once she has recovered, she will recover, about Graham's intention.

He wonders whether he can find more evidence, something Booker Big-britches seems incapable of dealing with, and he called himself a policeman. Thug, dim-witted bully, but not someone interested in upholding the law. Someone who would break the rules at a moment's notice to satisfy his own personal needs. Rangin was no saint, but at least he is trying to be a better person. Graham is probably too old and too twisted to even consider changing.

Trying to put it further out of his mind, he concentrates on the bloodstains, signs of a struggle, anything dropped, footprints in and out, something to show what may have happened.

Graham and Rangin are in what appears to be a large abandoned warehouse or storage area. It is dark and cold inside; the floor is uneven, dirty and gritty. The dirt on the floor is particularly disturbed by scuffed footprints against one wall. Rangin sees and scans even more blood there, the DNA of most of which matches Kylah's. There are also several droplets, much less than Kylah's, of blood from one other person. The Coridanite xenobiologist also finds several small roughly-torn or -broken scraps of wood, cloth and other materials, apparently from Kylah's zither and bag. There are more scuffed footprints going from the wall to the metal door - it looks like at least three people, perhaps more, were here.

St. Croix's tricorder scan of the desolate, weedy plaza outside reveals a faint transporter energy residue no more than an hour old, a couple of dozen meters from the door. Collins and the others find nothing else of interest out on the plaza.

Graham steps outside to ask St. Croix what she's found, then looks back into the storage room.

Back on the clock, Booker...

He frowns, looking around the room, passing over Rangin as if he were just another piece of dirt-crusted detritus.

So either Kylah came here, intentionally, to make some kind of deal and got double-crossed. Doesn't make any sense--what, trading a zither to get off planet?

Or she was abducted. Once again, why? She's some kind of political figure...but she was...injured...and left behind. Not hostage taking, not assassination.

"I get myself into situations." What the hell kind of situation was this?

Graham's not sure he really wants to know...

"Can you fine tune your tricorder, St. Croix?" Collins asks, "Maybe you can get something about who or what was transported, and if it or they were coming or going."

When Graham comes out to talk to St. Croix, Collins brings him up to date, leaving the former to concentrate on the tricorder readings. She then asks "What's going on with you and Rangin, Booker?"

Graham grunts and starts to pace in a tight circle in front of Collins, clasping his hands behind his back. He exhales slowly and stops, his hands on his hips.

"So we know two things: Rangin went into that dive bar with Kylah, and Kylah wound up here alone." He starts to pace again, controlling his anger by moving around. "Near as I can tell, she needed help with...something...that was going to take extra time..." Getting off planet? Still doesn't make any sense. "Rangin won't tell me jack except how proud he is he was back on station the minute shore leave was up." He stands still and frowns, glancing back toward the warehouse. "Oh, also what an asshole I am. Maybe you can get something else out of him, L-T."

He shakes his head, almost done, then notices once again the blood trail on the ground. He leans in toward Collins, his voice dropping almost to a growl. "You know, I don't have a lot of sympathy for Kjaerstad--his reaction to the fuck-ups on OCIII was way too casual for my taste." He jabs with his thumb back toward the warehouse. "But Rangin sounds like he's ready to put himself in for a fucking commendation on the day."

He takes a deep breath. Quit while you're ahead Booker. Or maybe behind. "I can't deny he got on my nerves a few times on OCIII, but there's something wrong withe someone who looks at...this..." he points to a particularly large patch. Was that where they found her? He reminds himself that there's still a lot he doesn't know about the incident. His voice softens and he's more disturbed about what happened and worried about Kylah's condition than angry. "And doesn't even give a shit."

"Okay, I get you're angry," Collins tells Graham, "but having it out with him here is counter-productive. Once we have this whole investigation under control, you and he can go to the Gym and beat the crap out of each other for all the difference it will make." She tries to keep her voice even-toned, but she has little patience for macho measuring contests. They're so 21st century.
"Right now we have a tiny piece of a crumb of a sliver of a lead with the transporter trace St. Croix found. You help her, I'll see what I can do to help Rangin." With that, she goes into the building and goes over to Rangin, careful not to step on anything that might be important.

Graham opens his mouth, about to offer some suggestions for how to "help" Rangin, but thinks better of it.

"Yes ma'am," he says softly, then heads over to St. Croix's position.

St. Croix refines her tricorder scan and finds three energy readings close together. It appears that three people beamed up simultaneously, or nearly so.

Rangin, too, finds transporter trace energy in the warehouse. He finds four readings, however, within a similar timespan.

"Ensign Rangin," Collins says as she approaches him, "You heard that Kylah will recover completely, right? Is there anything I can do to help you here?"

Rangin is crouched down in one corner of the room, tricorder on the floor pointing inwards, as he tries to work out what happened. As Collins approaches he turns slightly on his heels to swivel and face her. At the news that Kylah will recover, he slumps with his knees on the floor thankful for the news letting out an explosive sigh of relief.

"Thank you ma'am, no I didn't know and thank you again for telling me." Rangin gestures to the area in front of him and calmly begins. "Right. This is what we have. Transport beams of four people. DNA and blood traces of two people. One of them is most likely to be Kylah, the other would be from one of her assailants. Signs of a scuffle over there and sets of footprints heading for the door."

Pointing with one hand to specific items and gesturing Collins to use her flashlight. "We also have a few other items around. Some remains of Kylah's zither, which she will undoubtedly want back. Her communicator is over there, smashed and unusable, and there are a few fragments of cloth around of the dress, which match the colour of the dress she was wearing."

Rangin looks back up at Collins having finished his report. "I'll leave it to the experts as to what happened here, but I would suggest sending the samples off to the authorities to see if they can track the culprits down."

"Agreed," Collins nods and opens her communicator. "Collins to Yorktown. Please contact the Thoth Constabulary, in particular Sergeant Marcucci. Please tell him we found our missing crew member and could use his help with the investigation of the scene." She pauses briefly, "Tell him the request is from me. Collins out."

Collins looks at the shattered instrument, and feels her heart tighten a little. "What a shame. I never heard her play, but it was beautiful to look at." Then she looks at Rangin. He appears twenty years older than he did on the bridge less than an hour ago. "You two are close, huh? Did you start Shore Leave together? What happened?"

Thalen responds to Collins, "Acknowledged. Will do." Collins remembers that Marcucci had already said he would contact the Hathor police, and sure enough, another, similar marked aircar soon touches down on the plaza. A single uniformed officer gets out, a black Human male. He speaks to St. Croix and then enters the warehouse.

Thalen next tells Singh, "Dr. Brold has signaled that he and his team are now ready for the transfer, ma'am."

The Captain rises from her chair. "Right. I'd almost forgotten. Mr. Vargas, would you come with me, please? Mr. Onn, you have the conn." She catches herself, noticing the rhyme, and smiles at the Sidonian officer. "I don't think I've said that before. Carry on." She and the First Officer enter the turbolift and the doors whisk shut.

Nia returns Captain Singh's smile. She's had the conn before, of course, but it's true that this particular phrasing is new. Plenty of puns have been made using the shortened version of Nia's patronymic name, at least from English-speaking humans. She looks forward to hearing an original one, if such a thing exists.

Sitting in the big chair, Nia enjoys the thrill--it just doesn't get old. Of course she prefers it when the ship is actually en route somewhere. Right now they're just biding time. Meanwhile she's curious about this transfer, and what its purpose is, and just who this Dr. Brold person is. A doctor--or a scientist of some sort? Hopefully she'll find out soon enough.

Her thoughts return to the planet and what the security team is doing. Are they safe? Just how many charming planet stopovers will turn out to be dangerous after all? Nia shakes her head and runs her mind over the current crewmembers down on Anubis. Is Rawlings still there? She doesn't believe he is, but she's lost track of the comings-and-goings of the redshirts. Envisioning "Two-Tons" Rawlings as she's seen him, up close and very personal, she dismisses her concerns. Even if he is still planetside, Double-T is a tank. He can take care of himself.

Then there's Collins, young but capable if somewhat... impetuous. Most of all, she's just had a health scare. Hope she's being careful. Well, she's surrounded by good people. St. Croix, Graham, even T'Var, doctor or not. She'll be fine.

Basically Nia does everything but let her thoughts linger on Bennett's words about the wounded ensign in Sickbay: Early twenties. If she's on the younger side of that spectrum, she'd be just about the same age...

Ugh. Don't get maudlin. With an irritable shrug, Nia settles back in the chair and waits for more news--mostly about this mysterious transfer as well as the security team's hopefully safe investigation. And, no matter what orders she gives her recalcitrant brain, the truth is, part of her is anxious to hear more about Ensign Kylah's recovery.

If she cares to indulge her curiosity, Onn knows that, as Bridge Command Duty Officer, she may properly ask for updates on anything concerning ship's operations or the investigation of the landing party in Hathor.

Graham rubs his chin. St. Croix found three transporter signatures out here. Confrontation occurs in the warehouse. Three perps walk out and beam up here, leaving Kylah behind.

He frowns. Robbery, but of what? And she fought--she told me she wasn't confident defending herself, with those odds and nothing but what she was carrying on leave to defend, why would she fight...

What did Collins say? "But she's probably just hooked up with some local guy and having some fun. No excuse, but typical Kylah.

Oh hell. Oh no, no, no...

"St. Croix," Graham asks, his voice almost a whisper. "What was Kylah's...condition...when you found her?"

Graham, St. Croix and the others are outside on the weedy, barren plaza. Collins and Rangin are inside the warehouse.

St. Croix tells Graham, "She was unconscious, bloodied and lying a few dozen meters out here from the warehouse."

The Hathor cop enters the warehouse and approaches Collins. He says, "I'm Officer Pendleton, Hathor Constabulary. Found anything? Need any help?"

Rangin nods at Collins words, "I never even knew she played until a few hours ago, but I still got the idea it was very precious to her."

Thinking over how little he knew of Kylah before answering and unable to look Collins in the face, Rangin stares back into the gloom of the area. "Close. We're friendly, though we've only known each other a few weeks really. Not sure how well you can really know someone in that time." Rangin smiles and looks back at Collins realising the short time he has spent on the Yorktown. "After all, I've only known you for a few weeks as well."

Standing up and brushing the dust from himself, before bending down and picking up the tricorder, he turns back towards the darkness. "Yes, we started shore leave together, but not a lot happened. We split up and I headed back to the Yorktown."

Crossing his arms and turning back to Collins, his stare almost accusatory about what she might be thinking, "and before you ask, yes I probably was the last one to see her in Thoth, and no I don't know what happened."

Rangin's gaze switches to the door and outside to the group "Though certain others seem to hold me responsible just for being in the vicinity."

As he finishes, the Hathor Cop enters, to a nod from Rangin while he stands to one side to allow Collins to be in charge.

Collins turns to greet the newcomer. She extends her right hand in greeting,"Lieutenant JG Collins," she tells him. "We seem to have found evidence of a beating and definitely vandalism, if not the intent to rob. The victim is recovering aboard our ship, she should be able to fill in some of the gaps in the information. We've also found transporter traces in here, and out in the plaza. It's on your turf, so we should definitely work together to get to the bottom of all this."

"Sure," says Officer Pendleton. "We're a small department, but we're here to help in any way we can. Where were people beamed to or from? Can you tell?"

"We believe three people beamed out from the plaza, Ensign Rangin found four transporter signatures in here, probably their arrival point." Collins tells the cop. "Is crime a problem in Thoth? Particularly in the area we first investigated, where we met Sergeant Marcucci?"

Graham fidgets a little after St. Croix answers. That wasn't exactly what I meant... But he has little desire to broach the true subject.

Maybe T'Var would be a better bet.

Certainly better than asking Kylah herself...

Pendleton says, "I've never served in Thoth, but it's generally considered safe. What area did you first investigate? I don't know Sgt. Marcucci either, I have to admit. All I know is, I got a call to come out here and help you if I could."

St. Croix notices Graham's expression. "Anything wrong, Mr. Graham?" the Frenchwoman asks. "Was there something else you needed to know?"

Collins describes the bar and environs to Pendleton. "I could get you the exact coordinates if you wish. Sergeant Marcucci and Officer Talbot were there, they offered assistance. In fact, Marcucci said he was going to call you. Are you sure you didn't speak to him?"

Great, Graham thinks wryly, she's a good officer, cute--and observant too.

You've asked this question a hundred times, Booker--what's the problem?

He clears his throat. "Some of how this looks to have gone down doesn't make a lot of sense," he replies. He shakes his head. "Why would she fight against overwhelming odds?"

He pauses, looks around and then back at St. Croix. "Was there any indication of sexual assault?"

Pendleton says, "He spoke to my chief, not to me personally. Thoth is a big city and I don't know either of those officers." He consults his pocket datapad. "Crime stats show Ysobel's is in a rough section of town - one of the roughest, actually, but still not exactly dangerous or crime-ridden, as such. It's all relative."

St. Croix thinks for a moment. "She's pretty spunky, from what I've seen. She might've - probably would've - fought back even if she thought she was going to lose. I thought of sexual assault, too, but saw no sign of it. The clothing around her waist was intact and in place, for whatever it's worth."

Nia knows the captain and first officer will let the crew know about this unknown doctor and whatever they're up to when, and if, it's necessary. The security team on the planet has only just checked in, so she's reluctant to interrupt their work, but Nia's not happy without knowing the exact headcount.

"Lt. Onn to Collins and St. Croix," she says, knowing that the two were leading separate teams when last checked. When they respond to her hail, she adds: "Just want to let you know I'm at the conn while Captain Singh and Cmdr. Vargas are otherwise engaged. Also, I'm pretty sure this was passed on to you folks, but to confirm, last I heard, Mr. Kylah's out of surgery and resting. Shouldn't be long before one of you can talk to her.

"When you get a chance, I'd like a status report so I'm caught up. First, can you give me a n update on who's still down there, and where you all are? And most important, if there's anything you need from us that'll help--personnel, equipment, information, you name it--let me know."

In other circumstances Rangin would scoff at anyone calling that area rough or sleazy, but his experiences are not those of his colleagues. From them he also knows that they will find little there unless they have some solid proof.

"We also have some DNA evidence from one of the assailants. I'm hoping you will be able to identify at least one of the culprits from it."

Collins opens her communicator and replies to Lt. Onn. "Collins here. Yes, we've heard the good news about Mr. Kylah. Kjaerstad, Rawlings, and Jones from my party are back on board; Ensign St. Croix's team are still all here, outside with Mr Graham, except for Dr. T'Var who beamed back with Kylah. There's a local LEO here with us, inside a warehouse; Rangin and I have been bringing him up to speed. We've got transporter traces and DNA, hopefully enough to ID the assailants." She looks to Rangin to check if she's covered everything, and will give him a chance to fill in the gaps if need be, but first says "This will have to be a joint investigation between the locals and us."

Pendleton holds up his datapad and says to Rangin, "Sure. If you'd share those DNA scan results with me, I'll run them through the planetary criminal database."

Graham nods and grunts in reply. He shrugs and looks around the area again: this still doesn't make any sense. Multiple perps. Transporter. Pre-planned location, I'd guess. It's not a petty street crime...but why? The zither couldn't have been that valuable. Trying to get off-planet:smugglers?

Should I have done something different that might have prevented this, he wonders. The other night we seemed to communicate well, she seemed fine... what could have happened since. He recalls Rangin and the other guy--Johnson, the comedian. Graham frowns. But there's no way in even my most paranoid imagination they'd be involved with some local Anubis assholes.

Graham stews: I took a few minutes to find T'Var while on leave down here, I should have at least checked in on Kylah once.

Nia nods to herself. "Very good, Mr. Collins. If there's--" She pauses suddenly. DNA evidence? What the hell... An alarm bell rings in her head, but she curbs her instinct to ask the question aloud. Satisfying her curiosity isn't as important as vouchsafing the ensign's privacy by not announcing to everyone on the Bridge that these bastards did something that left DNA at the scene of the crime. Hopefully it's hair or blood.

She redirects her thoughts. "Might be a long shot and you've probably covered this, but is there any reason to think this was a botched kidnapping? Maybe someone down there knew she was--is--wealthy and connected, especially if she made any big purchases or was recognized? She has been, um... in the news lately. It'll help a lot to trace her exact movements from the time she beamed onto the planet, assuming you haven't yet. If one or two of you can be spared, you might want to beam up to be on hand when Ensign Kylah wakes up."

Nia starts to wonder what Graham's thoughts are. And now she feels foolish asking questions considering they're the security experts, not her. "Anyway, I'll let you get on with it. You don't need my input, I'm sure you all have it in hand. Thanks for the report, Lt. Collins. Let me know if you need anything."

Graham punches a fist into his other hand. I'm useless down here until we have a lead. And I can't ask St. Croix...well, only a doctor would have really...


Out of all his cremates, T'Var seems like the only one he can ask a more detailed question about his fears.

Graham hails Collins. "L-T, permission to beam up...I'd like to ask...ah, to gather some information from the Doc --uh, T'Var, and, ah, maybe Kylah, if she's awake."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, we're way ahead of you down here." Collins is a little annoyed. What the hell, does she think we don't know how to run an investigation. "Collins out."

Before she can put her communicator away, it beeps again. This time it's Graham. Whats his problem? He can't walk a few yards to talk to me? "No, I want you to work with the local LEO. We may have a lead on the perp or perps. I'll go talk to T'Var and Kylah."

Before she goes outside, she asks Rangin, "Can you and Graham work together, or should I bring you back to the ship with new?"

Rangin hands across the details to the Officer Pendleton before turning back to Collins.

"I don't think there is anything left for me to do here. I'm guessing Hathor police will have it in hand along with our Security. Mr Graham appears to have a few issues he is working through, so it may be best if I return to the ship."

"Okay. I'll be outside," Collins comments, "Join me when you're ready to go." She turns to Officer Pendleton "Thank you for all your help. Ensign Graham, the big guy outside, will be in charge of our landing party when Mr. Rangin and I beam up." She offers her hand again for Pendleton to shake.

After shaking hands with Pendleton, Collins will go outside to wait for Rangin. She'll speak to Graham briefly, too, letting him know he's in charge of the landing party.

T'Var continues to sit with Kylah. She closely monitors the ensign's condition. The doctor is aware of the fact that unconscious individuals may still be able to hear what is spoken to them, so....

"I have researched some new meditation techniques we can try when you are ready," T'Var tells Kylah. "A few of them might seem a bit strange, but they might turn out to be quite good."

Pendleton thanks Rangin, uploads the DNA information and prepares to crosscheck it with the Anubis criminal database. He bids farewell to Collins.

Things are otherwise quiet on the Bridge for Lt. Onn.

In Sickbay, Kylah does not stir. Her biosigns are strong, she is resting comfortably and she seems, so far at least, to be making a good recovery. Dr. T'Var knows (although Graham and St. Croix do not) that there were no indications of a sexual assault against her.

Graham isn't thrilled by Collin's order, but he concludes it's better to suck it up than debate it, especially since it seems as if she might be in a bad mood. Shouldn't push my luck..."if-you-don't-want-to-be-in-charge-here,-it'll-be-Rangin, follow his orders...


At least the investigative team would be guaranteed to be punctual, in that case, he thinks.

"OK," he says, in part to St.Croix and in part to himself or anyone in the vicinity. "We have some DNA. We also have what appears to be involuntary transport...how rare is that here? Is there any law enforcement monitoring or a logging of transporter activity by private parties we could access?"

He realizes there are two loose ends: one, the...nature...of the assault, which he should probably just ask Collins to determine when she gets back onboard, and the whole "getting off planet" thing. Why? Or was that bartender just completely full of shit?

Graham pulls his thoughts together and then actually speaks directly to St. Croix. "Actually, seriously now, multiple perps, high-risk target, access to a transporter, clear plan for a place to drop and...dump...the victim...why don't you take the lead on seeing if there are any similar cases the locals are aware of that fit this profile?"

Pendleton comes over to talk to Graham and St. Croix. "I'm not aware of any cases like that around here. This is a pretty quiet town. Things might be different in Thoth, though."

As soon as Rangin is ready, Collins will call the ship for transport.

Rangin stares back into the darkness inside the cool building wondering just what happened in the few minutes since he left or if she had planned it before and he had just been too blind to notice. It was more appropriate than he cares to think about, the broken communicator, the broken zither, the struggle between people.

He shakes his head wondering why he is bothering, it wasn't his actions that led to this, Kylah did this to herself. The only thing he is wondering is whether to even consider trying any further or is it going to be one disaster after another. In the short time he had known her, she had racked up quite the set of issues.

However, there is one thing he is going to do, because he would do it for anyone. He raises the tricorder one last time and makes sure he has captured the location of everything, most importantly the few pieces of zither still lying around before heading back outside. Adding several notes to it and especially about the zither, Rangin requests the pieces be returned once Hathor LEO have finished with any evidence there as they are of great personal value to the person they belonged to. Please.

Finally he walks outside to the group and up to Officer Pendleton. "Just a few extra notes for the case," he says calmly and passes the extra details across.

Turning to Collins, he looks at her squarely "Ready to leave!" he confirms with a nod.

Pendleton says, "Thank you. Got it."

The Security officer flips open her communicator. "Collins to Yorktown. Two to beam up." In moments, she and Rangin have disappeared into the transporter beam. After the usual momentary disorientation, their vision clears to show them standing in Transporter Room 1.

Making an assumption as to Rangin's destination, Collins says "Tell Kylah I'll be in to see how she's doing after I check in with the BCDO." She then heads to the Bridge.

Shaking his head as Collins leaves, Rangin thumbs the communicator on the wall deciding to see what state Kylah is in before making any decisions.

"Ens. Rangin to Sickbay. Please could you let me know what Ens. Kylah's current condition is? Thank you."

The Sickbay duty nurse answers, "She's recovering nicely, Mr. Rangin. You're welcome to visit, if you wish."

Collins is just one short turbolift ride away from the Bridge. She steps through the two red doors to see Lt. Onn, the Sidonian helmswoman, in the big chair. The beautiful, sunlit arc of Anubis fills the main viewscreen.

"Lieutenant Collins reporting, Sir," Jeremi says after she moves down the few steps to stand next to and facing the big chair. She then recounts to Lt. Onn all that transpired, closing with "Officer Pendleton of the Hathor Constabulary will work with Graham on the investigation."

Nia nearly does a double-take when she sees Collins on the Bridge, not five minutes after speaking with her down on the planet. She listens while the younger woman gives her account and finishes her report.

"I see," she says slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Collins. I would have appreciated your telling me that you were going to leave the planet before you did so, but I understand that you're probably particularly anxious to do the interview yourself, since the victim is your roommate."

She lowers her voice so that only Collins can hear. "Nevertheless, keep in mind that a team leader should generally stay with her crew and be the last to return to safety, rather than the first. Okay? When possible, stay on the ground and delegate shipboard tasks to your subordinates." She smiles briefly. "I know it seems antithetical, given that rank is supposed to have privileges, but trust me, this is the way to encourage crew loyalty."

Nia dismisses the officer, deciding to save the rest of the lecture that pops into her mind. Collins certainly couldn't help the health issue that cut her last mission short. But Nia remembers the reports from the Sakathian mission, and Collins's decision to board the shuttle and abandon her crew to the violent zombies still rankles. The woman seems to think team leaders are supposed to get the cushiest assignments, rather than the hardest ones. As a pilot, Nia knows that's not how you build loyalty among your crew.

Well, she's still young. She'll either mend her ways when her evaluations prove that people don't want to serve under her, or she'll end up behind a desk wondering what went wrong.

"Ens. Kylah is already awake and seeing visitors? That is good news indeed." Rangin cannot help but feel relief that Kylah's injuries have already been healed. Especially with Collins on her way.

"If that is the case, would you mind asking her if she is okay with me coming to see her?" Rangin politely enquiries given the argument they had had.

"Yes, sir," Collins replies a little sheepishly. "Permission to talk with Ensign Kylah in order to continue the investigation?"

"Of course, if she's awake and up to it," Nia says. "If not, Doctors Villa or T'Var might have some useful evidence. Maybe more DNA--any hair she pulled out or skin beneath her fingernails, if she fought them--or... or anything else," she finishes delicately.

"Thank you, Sir." Collins enters the turbo lift and tells it to head for Sick Bay.

The duty nurse says, "No, I think she's still unconscious, but she already has one visitor, and I'm sure another wouldn't go amiss."

Collins arrives in Sickbay to learn the same.

"Thanks, I can wait until she has woken up and she feels more refreshed. However, I believe Lt. JG Collins is on her way to talk to her about the events that just occurred. Rangin out."

He leans against the wall, wondering what to do next. Kylah is still recovering and he is fairly certain that he is the last person she would want to see on waking up. He isn't planetside any more, Graham was in charge so it is the last place he wants to be and besides there is little further he could do to assist down there. Just let Security get on and handle it, his part is over unless Graham decides he wants to have another bullying rant at him. everything now was just a waiting game: for Kylah to recover, for her attackers to be caught, for whatever reason they have come to Anubis for to unfold, for Rangin to talk to Kylah when she had recovered.

Until then, nothing left to do but go back on watch. He presses the intercom again and calls Lt. Cmdr. Roble to confirm he is back on the Yorktown and where to report to next. Bridge duty, the continuation of the journal exercise Rangin is running through or something else?

Graham rubs his head. "Fair enough," he says in reply to the local constable. "Thoth is our starting point anyway."

He assumes he still has, in addition to St. Croix, Jones, Rawlings, and Kjaerstad planet side. But he broadcasts on a Starfleet channel to personnel on the ground to sound off with status and location.

Forward momentum, he thinks. He's worried they are flying blind to some extent until someone can interview Ens. Kylah. But that's not under his control, so he decides, assuming personnel are available:

St. Croix and Kjaerstad will assess and canvas the warehouse area, taking full readings and interviewing who they can, with Pendleton's assistance. Whatever Rangin's issues are, he's probably a competent tricorder jockey, but why take the chance?

Jones is to interact with the Thoth constabulary directly on finding any patterns of prior incidents that fit this case-from two angles, one, strong-arm robbery, the other sexual assault.

Rawlings is to meet Graham back at the bar in Thoth. I don't have solid evidence that the bar tender was yanking my chain, he thinks. But I don't have many other levers to push, either. So, bar keep, you're the lucky winner...

"Welcome back, Mr. Rangin," Roble says. "Report to the Captain in Cargo Bay 4, if you please."

Graham is in command of St. Croix and three other Security personnel, Spec/1 Fox and Crewmen Harbaoui and Wallach, in Hathor. Jones, Rawlings and Kjaerstad are on the Yorktown, but soon beam back down in response to Graham's call. He may call for further reinforcements if necessary.

St. Croix and Kjaerstad find the entire warehouse area - ten buildings in all, of various sizes - to be empty and run-down. Further tricorder scans come up empty. There is a nearby residential area which is clearly not the finest on the planet. Nobody there seems to have seen or heard anything of use. Ofcr. Pendleton appears to have a good rapport with the locals, St. Croix tells Graham in making her report.

Jones is passed up the Thoth Constabulary chain of command from Sgt. Marcucci to Det. Velgee Lunnd of the Major Crimes Unit. Lunnd says that visiting spacers are occasionally preyed upon by the less savory elements of Thoth society. There have been several cases in recent months in which an unlicensed transporter was used to move someone to an isolated location to be robbed, Jones tells Graham. There are no reports of this technique being used for sexual assault. Police have a few leads but nothing firm.

Graham and Rawlings beam back to Ysobel's. The Bolian bartender is still there. Two other bartenders are helping him, along with several waiters and waitresses. The place has filled up even more. There are now several dozen people there; it is noisy and crowded. It is early evening, local time.

Collins sits next to Kylah's bed and tries to compose her thoughts. In the back of her mind, she knows Fujishiro is also here in Sick Bay, still in a coma and with an unknown, but currently unpleasant, future. She looks around the room to see where Fujishiro's bed is. Was it my fault? If I had stayed on the station and sent the others away, that could be me in a coma. But Onn was right. I shouldn't have run when I did. But I didn't run. I volunteered to try a potentially dangerous transport. A leader can't ask her team to do something she's not willing to do. Kirk always went first. And he's a great captain! Her mood shifts from pensive to defensive to guilt-ridden to defiant very quickly.

Dr. T'Var, who had stepped away briefly from Kylah's bedside, returns. She notices Collins's expression at once and asks, "How are you, Mr. Collins?"

"What?" Collins was a bit startled hearing someone else's voice. "Oh, yes, fine. Just thinking. When do you think Kylah will wake up?" Then as an afterthought, "and how is Fujishiro doing?"

"I am certain Ensign Kylah will regain consciousness when her body and mind are ready," T'Var answers. The doctor pauses a moment. "Mr. Fujishiro's condition has not changed. To be honest, I am doubtful that it ever will."

Rangin's demeanour brightens when he hears what Lt. Cmdr. Roble asks. "Thank you sir, understood. I'm on my way."

At least finding out why they had come to Anubis would be able to keep his mind occupied for a while and him out of trouble. Collins and Graham might find it a little difficult to get hold of him, which is a bonus as far as Rangin is concerned.

Heading out of the transporter room Rangin strides quickly for the turbolift to take him to the cargo bay to see what awaits.

In Cargo Bay 4, Rangin finds the Captain and Chief Engineer talking to three Gnalish civilians and two Humans in Starfleet uniform. They are gathered around what he recognizes as a starship primary sensor module, steel-gray, roughly cubical and three meters on a side. "Ah, Mr. Rangin," the Captain says. "Good. Come meet Dr. Brold and the others. Dr. Brold, may I introduce Ens. Velir Rangin, my xenobiologist?"

The greenish-gray reptilian - Rangin guesses male, although he can't be sure - holds out a clawed hand and Rangin gingerly shakes it. In a raspy voice, Dr. Brold says, "Welcome, Ensign. I have heard good things about you, and hope you will be able to help us. These are my assistants," he gestures to the other two Gnalish, "Veled and Yold." They nod politely.

"And our Starfleet friends," Dr. Brold continues, seeming to place a slightly odd emphasis on that last word, "Lt. Kalpana Patel and Ens. Darren Zweller." They also step forward to shake hands. She is a thin, serious-faced Indian woman; he is younger, reddish-haired and handsome in a slightly vulpine way. Both are in Engineering red, and Zweller holds a tricorder.

The only Gnalish we've seen before: http://en.memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Sord

"I'm sorry about Fujishiro, Doctor." Collins says quietly. "I hope you can find something, somewhere, to help her." She stands up and starts to leave. "Will you please let me know when Ensign Kylah wakes up?"

With Graham now apparently in charge of the planetside team, Nia sends him a quick message by text--not wanting to interrupt him if he's in the middle of an interview:

GRAHAM, ENS. BOOKER: I'm still at the Conn, so as I told Collins, if you need any more backup--feet on the ground or brainiacs up here doing research--just ask. FYI, Kylah stable but still not awake. Stay in touch & stay safe. -- ONN, LT. NIA

After sending the note, Nia frowns and shifts in the chair, edgy. There's little more frustrating to her than being nominally in charge of a stationary ship. She swivels to look at the rest of the people on the Bridge. "I have a question for you all," she says with a crooked smile. "It'd be a treat to know what's going on in this ship I'm temporarily commanding. So who among you can tell me what--or who--is being delivered to the cargo bay?"

"Yes, of course," T'Var replies. "A word of caution, though. Ensign Kylah may not remember what has happened to her. Also, I would advise keeping your questioning brief. She still needs time to recover fully from her injuries."

"Of course." Collins turns for the door, then remembers something. "I had made an appointment to see Dr. Villa. Is she still on duty?"

"I believe so. If not, would I be able to assist you?" T'Var asks.

Lt. Joseph Bancroft, the ship's astrophysicist, turns to Onn from the Science I console. "Do you mean Cargo Bay 4, ma'am? It's a prototype sensor module. Dr. Brold, a very distinguished sensor engineer, designed it. It's had extensive tests at the Starfleet research facility on Gagarin VII, but I understand there've been some problems. We're supposed to do a field test."

While she mulls that over, Onn is presented by a yeoman with the previous day's Communications log to approve, as well as a rather long list of Engineering components bought "off the shelf" at a major chandlery in Thoth by Chief Engineer Cheverez. Everything appears to be in order.

The yeoman then hands her a tablet with this:

PROPOSED SHIP'S STANDING ORDER
Proposed by Ens. Josiah F. RUSSELL, Security.
Submitted to Capt. S.P. SINGH, USS Yorktown, NCC-1717, commanding.

INTRODUCTION
It is official Starfleet policy that starship crews are, to the greatest extent possible, encouraged to lead well-rounded and fulfilling social lives, both to enhance morale and to maintain good order and discipline. However, a longstanding barrier to this goal has been that crewmembers not quartered together, but seeking intimate relations with each other, must occasionally make complicated and/or embarrassing arrangements with cabinmates and others to obtain privacy. Fortunately, I respectfully suggest, this problem is easily solved.

DRAFT ORDER
The Ship's Quartermaster shall designate ten guest quarters as Temporary Quarters (TQs), available by reservation or on a first-come, first-served basis to any personnel upon request.

TQs may be reserved or used for any period from one to ten hours, and shall be promptly vacated at the end of such time.

TQs shall be left clean and shipshape by personnel making use of them. A cleaning charge of up to 100 credits per user may be imposed at the Quartermaster's discretion, if TQs are afterwards found otherwise.

Repeated misuse of TQs may result in the cancellation of usage privileges for the offending personnel, as well as disciplinary proceedings.

The Quartermaster may cancel any reservation at any time, or order TQs immediately vacated, as necessary for official purposes or by order of a superior officer.

AUTHORITY
Pursuant to Starfleet Regs. 13-04020(A) and 13-05503(D)(2).

IMPLEMENTATION
This Standing Order shall take effect upon approval of the Captain, be reported timely to Starfleet Command, and remain in effect unless and until reversed thereby.

"Yes, that's exactly what I did mean. Thanks, Mr. Bancroft." Nia smiles appreciatively at him, then glances back at the viewcreen. "A new sensor module, hmm? Timing is everything. Pity it wasn't around when we were looking for Ensign Kylah. Well, maybe the test can make itself useful by searching for the charmers who bashed her head in--assuming the planetside team gets us something to scan for. Though I'm sure they will, if it exists."

Nia is basically talking to keep herself occupied, although a little banter among the Bridge crew would be a nice change. Vargas runs his Bridge like a Vulcan meditation group: silence is golden, unless one is ordered to speak. Singh is much less strict, but even so, the weight of her Captain's stripes tends to stifle freewheeling discussion.

But Nia finds interaction among crewmates a useful and highly desired aspect of Bridge duty, especially on a starship that makes as lengthy trips as the Yorktown does. Chemistry is as important among a crew as it is among bedmates. Maybe more so, Nia thinks with a slight smile. Never found myself in a life-or-death situation in an orgy. Well... almost never.

If she were ten years younger she might blush at her thoughts. But Nia isn't ten years younger. She just enjoys the memories and gives herself another ten minutes before she checks in with Graham again to make sure the team down below is safe.

"Actually," Collins replies to Dr. T'Var, "I suppose it doesn't matter which doctor I see, just that Dr. Villa has been my primary since,..." she finds she cannot bring herself to finish that sentence, so she hurriedly adds "I just wanted to know how I was healing, and to get my contraceptive booster shot."

Rangin nods back at the Gnalish scientists as he starts to recollect the species from his studies.

There is a murmured, but polite, Ma'am to Lt. Patel and a Mr Zweller to the red haired gentleman. It takes a few moments before he recognises him from a long time ago at the Academy, they had graduated at the same time, although Rangin is sure Zweller had been on the command track and not engineering. Then again, Rangin only knows him from the first year or so, before other events overtook his life, so he may just be thinking of the wrong person. The Academy is a large place after all.

Once the greetings are done, Rangin smiles to all of them, before addressing the lead Gnalish, "Dr Brold, how can I assist?"

Graham quickly replies to Onn's text message - Thanks. Unless I plan to stage a coup I probably have enough firepower down here. But you never know. Will apprise.

He then quietly hails Jones and asks him to inquire with the local police about the bar and its staff.

Graham gestures for Rawlings to join him at the bar, picking a spot where he can talk to the Bolian they spoke with earlier. "How about a Terran beer?" Graham asks, gesturing to Rawlings to order one as well if he wishes.

"Our colleague is going to recover, by the way," he says to the Bolian.

"Unfortunately, she's not awake yet, so we haven't been able to as her any questions so far." He shrugs. "While we're stymied and waiting to find any new leads, I was thinking we might set up shop here. I need place where a half-dozen Starlet Security officers can make themselves at home. Naturally, for safety's sake we'd have to post some people outside the front door, but we'd try to keep animated conversations over our tricorders to a minimum when prospective customers are walking by."

He sighs and looks around, then back to the bartender. "That is, unless we had some other leads to pursue."

Nia is still mulling over her memories when she receives the tablet from the Yeoman with the new request from Ensign Russell, whoever he is. The longer she reads, her eyes widen further. Nia doesn't bother hiding her surprise at the subject of the proposal.

Her own quarters are solo and spacious--well, spacious enough--so that privacy has never been an issue for her, at least not since her promotion to Lieutenant. Besides, sneaking around used to be half the fun.

Still, the idea of designated, um, 'trysting' quarters makes a good deal of sense. What astonishes her is that it's an Ensign who had the nerve to make such a proposal.

She gets to the part about the cleanliness requirements... and a possible fine of 100 credits... and when she tries to imagine what could possibly cost 100 credits to clean up, Nia has to choke back a laugh. It only worsens when she realizes the discussion that will inevitably take place between the ship's highest-ranking officers when considering the proposal.

Oh, please, in the name of Sid'Os, she prays, covering her tightened lips with her fingers, Please let me be here when Singh and Vargas discuss this!

Nia wants to swivel in her chair and show Thalen, because of everyone on the Bridge, he would appreciate this the most. She controls the impulse considering the mixed company and, of course, the inappropriateness of sharing what is likely intended to be confidential. Still, I have got to find out who this Russell person is. Double-T must know his story, she realizes, since Rawlings is security. Graham too. Now that'd be an ice-breaker for sure.

Thinking of Graham seems to have invoked him, because her communicator signals an incoming message. "Good," she murmurs as she reads, having been a bit concerned at not having heard from them. The 'coup' joke keeps the smile on her face, and it stays there when she sets the tablet down and returns her communicator to her belt.

Grinning, she thanks the yeoman and looks forward to passing the tablet over to Singh. Little things like this, Nia thinks, are why sitting in the big chair is worth it, even when we're doing jack-all.

Black sweeps away, lightening to gray. She is running through the miasma that surrounds her. Escaping. She spots a transporter pad and almost leaps onto it, screaming at someone, anyone, to beam her out of here. Delaney, he is here somewhere. She knows he suggested a different test, the transporter was broken and unpredictable, but she demands that he obey her and let her go first.

Even as she does, she feels guilty, defensive, too many moods to track. She knows she desperately wants to flee, but she is leaving others behind, and in danger. People surround her. No, not people: monsters. Clawing at her. Hitting her--her shoulders, her throat, her neck. She attempts to reach for her phaser but suddenly she finds her arms unable to move.

A nondescript man appears in front of her. "Don't waste your time. You aren't going anywhere. You keep trying to run. That's all you do, escape, abandon people. Do you know what a coward you are?"

* * *

"I must go," Kylah whispers in Sickbay, her breathing quickening. "It is better for everyone. Please!"

* * *

"You go nowhere without my permission." The man is older, attractive, dark-haired. Is it Hardin? Palver? Graham? Velir? Her uncle? "Even if I did, there's no corner of this universe you can run to escape from me. I'm in your mind, you realize that?"

Her body is being constricted, as if it is clenched within an invisible but massive, immobile fist. She is paralyzed. Somehow she knows others are nearby, her shipmates, but she is too afraid to care about them. She wants to escape so badly she will do anything, she will let this monster have them, if he will just set her free.

* * *

She opens her eyes and everything is silver, metallic silver. And the light is blinding. "I cannot breathe," she gasps in a soft sob. "I am--you are crushing me!"

* * *

The fist just tightens further. Her ribs crack and pierce her lungs, which fill with blood that drowns and chokes her. "You're still trying to run," the voice says, and it is softer now, almost gentle. It is Velir, she is certain of it. "I should never have believed you. Everything you say is a lie."

* * *

"No, Velir, please..." Kylah tries to turn her head but she cannot. There is a tall, dark-haired blur in the distance. "Look at me, I promise, I will do--I will do whatever you want--" Her lungs hurt so much and nothing she says makes a difference. "Stop! Please," she sobs, clutching the blanket that seems to constrict her. "Velir!"

* * *

The gray clouds threaten to engulf her again. It would be so easy to retreat into the mist...

Dr. Brold says, "I have designed a new, cutting-edge, radio astronomy sensor module for use in Starfleet vessels. They have run their tests in the lab and in simulations for more than three months now; your ship has been selected for field testing of the system." The Gnalish scientist looks at Patel. "Starfleet says there are problems, but I am confident that it will pass every test with ease."

Patel coughs into her hand. "Doctor, perhaps I should speak priv--"

"No," says Brold brusquely. "Say what you wish to say, right now, right here, in front of us all."

"Very well." She speaks directly to Singh, Cheverez and Rangin. "Let me say at the outset that I have great respect for Dr. Brold, and like what I've seen of his system so far. It's certainly innovative and would increase RA sensor acuity by more than a third. However, the prototype is delicate, prone to breakdowns, and is about ten percent less energy-efficient than the Sotok Cybersystems TG83-L4A, the standard such sensor module now in use on Constitution-class starships like the Yorktown. The prototype also, when activated, affects biosensors in other shipboard sensor arrays, significantly degrading their effectiveness. That's where you come in, Mr. Rangin. I'm told you know your way around a biosensor...?"

The bartender looks suspiciously at Graham. "What kinds of leads do you mean? I've told you all I know."

Dr. T'Var and Collins notice that Kylah seems in some distress. The vital-functions indicators on the Sickbay bed's overhead display show increased brain activity, heart rate and perspiration.

"Should we wake her?" Collins asks. "Even if she's disoriented, that's got to be better than the nightmare she seems to be having."

Graham has to resist frowning. I have to admit I'm kind of puzzled. If what happened fits the MO of a robbery, but all that was taken was a zither...? Did somebody know she was royalty, presuming she'd have more credits than the average Starfleet officer? He reminds himself to ask Jones to find out the cash value of what was stolen in similar incidents previously.

He leans forward a little bit, not in a threatening way, rather trying to enable both of them to speak with lowered voices. "The local constabulary say there have been some similar...incidents...with visitors before. Unauthorized transporter whisks them off, and bam..." He taps a finger on the counter. "Is there anything that might have called attention to her as a target..." He shrugs. "Did she pay with large bills? Can you remember her talking to anybody else--or did anybody else ask about her."

Graham pauses, glances briefly at Rawlings as if weighing something of great importance to Starfleet, and leans even closer to the bartender. "Look, the thing is, she's real important on her home planet. Really important. You see and hear a lot... I'm just saying that the stakes are pretty high in terms of finding who actually laid hands on her. And why. Whether that's collateral damage for anybody who's in the way, or the prospect of a helluva reward for whoever helps us find the ones that banged her up."

He clenches his jaw slightly at his last phrase.

The bartender shrugs and says, over the noise of the crowd, "She was a uniformed, pretty Starfleet woman in a bar that doesn't see many of them. I'd say she got some attention. She paid from her shipboard account. She talked to a couple of people, as I told you before." A man in stained coveralls steps up to the bar to order. "Now, if you'll excuse me, we're kinda busy...?"

Should we wake her...

Kylah's eyes open again, and everything is still silvery-gray. The tall, dark-haired blur is near another figure with what seems to be red hair. One wears blue, the other red. She cannot discern any faces. Exhaustion and panic fight for dominance. "Wake me... was I dreaming?" she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. "No. It was real. Where... where is this?"

Frightened, she starts to sit up but the slight movement of her head makes her groan and abandon the attempt. "What have you done to me?" she begs, shutting her eyes against the dizziness. "Please, I did not mean to anger you. It hurts..."

Graham shrugs. "Go do what you gotta do," he says, drawing back away from the bartender.

When he has a chance to speak under his breath to Rawlings he sighs. "Until Kylah wakes up...or a DNA test from the struggle comes through, I feel like we're sitting on a big sack of nothing down here." He shakes his head ever so slightly. "Who'd go through the trouble to steal a weird musical instrument..?"

Graham frowns for a moment and then holds his communicator close to his mouth so as not to be overheard. "Graham to Ni...aaaa...lieeuutenant Onn. Request that an image of Kylah be passed to the Scamp...and the Blissful...uh, Wistful Penelope if she's still in orbit, with a request that to aid in an investigation we'd like to talk briefly anyone who spoke with her today." He pauses a second. Getting off world. "If there are any takers, to be patched through direct to me." He'd slipped back into a command mode he had practiced a long time ago, and realizes he probably sounded like a Lieutenant Commander giving an order to a Cadet. "Ah, ma'am. Please." he adds quickly.

Fuck. We should search Kylah's room. I don't think she'd like that. Graham texts Collins. Are you somewhere we could talk privately?

After Graham's awkward hail, Nia listens with amusement despite the seriousness of the situation. "Very good, Booker Ensign Graham," she says wryly. "Your request is my command. Literally. I assume you'll clue me in when you can. Good luck. Onn out."

She spins to face Thalen. "Lieutenant, looks like we're getting... somewhere... with the Kylah situation, although it seems that place is in orbit, bizarrely. Please open a channel and hail the good ships Scamp and Wistful Penelope--" Nia grimaces. What a depressing name, who comes up with these things? "--And at the same time, call up a good image of Kylah, ready for transmittal? Thanks."

Assuming Thalen gets through to the Scamp and Wistful Penelope...

"Onscreen, if possible?" Nia asks Thalen, then swivels to face the viewscreen. "Greetings to you both. I'm Lt. Nia Onn of the Yorktown. Sorry to get in touch solely for a favor, but we need assistance tracking the movements of one of our officers who was down on Anubis this afternoon. With permission, I'd like to transmit her image to you..." She glances at Thalen with a nod and a roll of her hand for him to begin the process. "Her name's Ensign Kylah. Could you please circulate this to your crew and any passengers on board? We need to know if someone on the planet today--in particular, in Thoth or Hathor--might have seen or spoken to her at some point."

Nia purposely doesn't mention any crime involved; she knows that might make someone reluctant to get involved. This way, maybe they'll just assume she's AWOL. Y'know, like you did, earlier, she thinks guiltily.

She concludes: "As you'll see from her picture, she's a young woman and fairly memorable. I'm hoping someone will recognize her and tell us anything they can. Will you please help us and let us know what you find out? Time's of the essence, I'm afraid."

Collins goes back over to Kylah's bedside. "You're on the Yorktown, in Sick Bay. You're safe now. No one is trying to hurt you," Jeremi tells her. She tentatively puts her hand, very lightly, on Kylah's shoulder. She ignores her communicator for the moment.

At first, the touch on her shoulder is warm and calming, but after a few seconds Kylah feels something like a shockwave of heat radiating outward and ending with a sharp, burning sensation behind her eyes. Even with the pain, concern for the person nearby almost overwhelms her. "Who are you? What has happened? You say this is the Yorktown... I do not understand..."

Trying to process what she is sensing, Kylah gradually realizes it is her own empathic powers, reflecting the emotions of the person touching her and somehow magnifying them tenfold. The physical contact makes it worse.

"Please do not touch me," she says immediately, shrinking. She blinks a few times, frightened of what she just experienced and confused beyond comprehension. "You said I--I am in sickbay. Why? My head... Why is everything so..." Her right hand weakly lifts to rub her eyes. "So blurry?" Belated recognition at last reaches her foggy mind, and she asks wonderingly, "Lieutenant Collins? Is that you?"

"Yes," Collins says reassuringly. "And Doctor T'Var is here, too. Try to relax, you're going to be alright."

T'Var checks Kylah's vital signs and other readings. The doctor administers a mild pain killer and a mood stabilizer.

"You are safe, Ensign," T'Var assures her. "And you should recover fully from your injuries."

"Yes Ma'am, I do." acknowledges Rangin, "several years experience over a variety of systems." He looks over the module well aware that the others are all waiting for him to continue.

He resists the urge to ask what would happen if the delicate sensor is hit by a hammer during testing, but a small smile, the first one for several hours begins to form and he slowly nods as his puts his thoughts together, something new to keep him occupied, out of trouble and helping out.

"For starters, if permissible, I'd like to see the associated biosensor test results? Are any test modules that can be used in isolation against sensors?"

Rangin looks across at Lt Patel and inclines his head slightly. "and perhaps some direction in cutting through the reports to the important parts."

"Dr. T'Var," Kylah says, her voice dull, wishing she could see more clearly--but her empathic sense is so acute and exaggerated that she does not need sight nor sound to recognize the doctor. The calm logic of the Vulcan is more immediately comforting, almost numbing, than the medications she administers. Kylah does not resist although she does not want anyone near her right now. "Then I am truly on the ship. How did I... I was..."

She struggles to remember anything that could have brought her here. "I was on the planet," Kylah mutters, squinting. The back of her eyes still ache--the pain medication seems to have helped the throbbing in her ribs and the dizziness of her head wound, but whatever is happening in her brain has not been affected. "But now I am not. What happened to me? Please, can you tell me?" She tries to find her roommate again. "Lt. Collins?"

"We found you in Hathor," Collins tells her roommate, "several kilometers from Thoth. We still aren't sure how you got there, but we have some working theories. What do you remember?" She keeps her voice calm and friendly, trying very hard not to sound like an interrogator.

The captain of the Scamp and the communications officer of the Wistful Penelope both seem helpful. They tell Onn that they will distribute the image of Ens. Kylah to all of their passengers and crew. It will take some time for responses from everyone, of course.

Lt. Patel says to Rangin, "I'll see that all applicable data is uploaded to your shipboard comm account. Ens. Zweller can direct you to the key sections as to biosensor spillover. Chief Engineer Cheverez has designated a secondary sensor module that we can use in isolation with Dr. Brold's prototype, which may be useful, although those kinds of tests have already been done on Gagarin VII. What we really want to see is how the prototype interacts with the biosensors of the Yorktown's full sensor suite in actual field operations."

The Captain nods. "To that end, Mr. Roble, my Science Officer, has suggested we go to the FGC 23 pulsar cluster. There's an inhabited planet there, so we should be able to both test the radio astronomy capabilities of the prototype, and see its impact, if any, on our biosensors."

Dr. T'Var notes that Kylah's heart and perspiration rates are returning to normal, although brain scan readings show that she is still agitated.

Hathor? Thoth? The words are gibberish. For an instant Kylah is afraid she is losing her ability to understand language. After some scary seconds of thought, the first word still means nothing, but the latter sounds familiar. "Thoth," she repeats. She is aware she must seem slow-witted, and in all likelihood she is. "There was a store. A music store. I asked to be beamed down there, I think. But it was closed, and I... I went to a bar, to--"

At the word bar she gets an instant image. Not her own. Kylah looks up at Collins, peering at her. The other woman knows of this bar, somehow. She remembers it better than Kylah does. "It was ugly," Kylah continues softly, reading more from Collins's memories than her own. "There was a bartender. Blue. A... a Bolian, I think. He did not like my being there."

Gradually some flashes of her own experiences bleed through, and she has to turn away from the others to make sure she is not affected by them. A swell of vertigo accompanies her movement, which pauses her until she can get her bearings. Why was I there? Why cannot I remember? She knows she spoke to the man. She asked him for a favor. Kylah looks down at her hands. Her left hand is bandaged around the wrist. The other is fine, but looks very pale even against the white blanket.

"I needed... my zither. Something about it... That is why I went to the music shop, to get it repaired. But how did it break... I am so careful. The barman was not happy I was there. Not just me." Kylah's eyes widen, which hurts her but she cannot help herself. A flood of emotional memories return, almost choking her with their onslaught. Anger. Fear. Jealousy. Mistrust. "Velir," she whispers, and she wants to crawl under the blanket at the vision of his face. "Velir Rangin was there. Where is he now?" She looks around, already knowing he is not in the room. "He did not want to be in the bar either. But I needed something... the bartender gave me advice about--"

Money. Leaving the ship. Gold pieces, heavy and too many to count, all in a briefcase. Kylah's heart starts to pound as the recollections return. Instinctively she knows she cannot explain. What did she use as an excuse? The zither, of course. "--About my zither. The bartender knew someone. Promised they could fix it. But... but I had to wait. And give cash. I had to get cash.

"Velir--Ensign Rangin--he did not wait with me. He was gone by the time I got back. I do not know why. I do not know." Except he was angry, she remembers that. Furious. "It was my fault, he was right. Something went wrong. He predicted things would go wrong, he knew it would happen and it did. And now I am here and I..." Kylah's right hand lifts to shade her eyes, which are still burning, but this time with tears. "I do not know what happened next. It is blank."

"Ensign Rangin found you with the ship's sensors," Collins tells Kylah. "He was very worried about you. He helped us with the first phase of our investigation. Ensign Graham and other Security personnel are following up on what we know so far. We will find out what happened." She pauses, then quietly adds "But your zither, Kylah, I'm sorry to tell you it's been smashed. We salvaged what we could, maybe it can be rebuilt," she takes Kylah's hand "maybe we can send to Elas for another one." Jeremi is trying to sound hopeful, but she can see how uneasy her roommate is. Something happened on Anubis, something Kylah had walked right into it without back up. Why would she do that? She should know you don't go into an unknown environment without back up. Rangin should have known better, too. There had to be a reason he left her alone, something more than just not wanting to wait around in a seedy tavern. "Don't stress yourself out right now, heal first. Remember later."

It is too much to take in, at first. Velir used sensors to find her--why did she need to be found? And an investigation... security people looking into her movements, into what happened? It is intrusive, invasive. Kylah does not want any of this. She shakes her head weakly, not understanding how everything has become so complicated. Graham must come back, they must all come back...

And then Collins tells her about her zither.

Kylah's breath freezes and she stares at Collins. Her head shakes more quickly with every word. Smashed. Salvaged. Rebuilt. "No," she mouths, horrified, even as Collins suggests sending to Elas for a replacement. "No!" Kylah chokes out. She turns to T'Var, still blurry, hoping for some proof that Collins is lying. "It was fine. It was safe. It was in my bag, I wrapped it... Where is my bag? Let me see it, please!" She wrests her hand free from Collins, who is only trying to be helpful, but the pain that results from the connection is too much for Kylah to bear. "Where is it?"

Smashed, she thinks again in abject misery. Not an accident, not if it was broken to the extent that things had to be salvaged. The concept of sending to Elas sinks in and Kylah's heart begins to palpitate even as her breathing returns to her, fast and shallow. The thought of what her uncle will do...

"You must not tell anyone," she gasps, starting to tremble and feeling lightheaded from lack of enough air. "He cannot know, he will be enraged, he will blame me. It cannot be replaced, and he will think I did it on purpose." And then she remembers Velir's accusing words, which return to her in a flash: Your zither is in your bag! He knew she had lied about it, and now what will he say? He will be even more cruel.

"Please, Lieutenant, please do not tell Velir," Kylah pleads, now hyperventilating. "He--he will be angrier... He will say I--I deserved it--" She puts her good hand on her chest as if it will help her catch her breath.

The outburst startles Collins and she lets go of Kylah's hand. She looks to T'Var as if to ask the doctor to administer another sedative. "I'm sorry, Kylah. It will be okay. We won't tell anyone unless you say so. But Ensign Rangin won't be angry. He will be relieved that you are healing and that you will be fine."

Graham mentions to Rawlings--at his side in the bar--that the ships in orbit are cooperative, "and that may give us something."

He offers to clink a glass "So--Starfleet living up to all your hopes and dreams, Rawlings?"

Dr. T'Var looks again, with concern, at the bed's sensor display. "You are becoming upset, Mr. Kylah. It would be best if you remained calm. Would you like a sedative?"

Rawlings lifts his glass of beer as well, and bumps Graham's with it. "Most days, Mr. Graham. Most days." He takes a deep drink. "And you?"

Trying to control her breathing, Kylah shakes her head and whispers no--an answer to both T'Var's question and Collins's assertion that Velir will be relieved. She remembers only snatches of their last argument, but what she recalls is enough to know he no longer cares for her.

The loss of his friendship as well as her zither seems too much to bear. She turns her head away from both women, letting her tears burn a trail down to the pillow as she faces the monitors on the side of her bed.

The various medical screens would mean nothing to her even if she could see them clearly, but the faint but present ache from her ribs and head--and the strange, on-and-off pain behind her eyes that does not seem to respond to whatever treatment T'Var gave her--lead her to mutter, "What happened to me, exactly--what are my injuries? And when may I leave here?"

Collins takes a few steps away while T'Var tends to Kylah, and takes out her communicator. She reads Grahams message and replies, No, not really. I'm in Sick Bay with Kylah.

Rangin makes a few notes and then checks with Lt. Cmdr Roble as to the best area in the science labs to set up the experiment in.

Once that's done, he turns to the rest. "Ok, no time like the present I guess, I had better get started." If permission has been given he will also show any of the group to the Science Labs, who may be interested.

Dr. T'Var describes Kylah's injuries. "You are recovering well and I expect you can be discharged in a day or so."

Cheverez says, "There's a Jefferies Tube adjoining this cargo bay, so we'll be able to hook the prototype module into ship's systems without any difficulty. You can work out of the Xenobiology Lab, Ensign, or right here - I can have a sensor control console brought in for you, if you like."

"Right here will do just fine, Sir. If there is anything else, I'm sure we can shift it down if needs be." Rangin thanks the Senior Engineer while looking forward to playing with the new shiny - well slightly dull grey radio astonomy sensor.

But even so, it's something new.

Kylah closes her eyes. A day, possibly more. The description of her injuries is surreal and grisly, particularly the fractured skull--this makes the patchy, inchoate memories even more alarming. And if my head wound was in the back, why do my eyes hurt so whenever I sense emotions? Why are they so strong? Having so little control over her mind is all too familiar from that night with Jan.

Of course she says nothing about this--she cannot, in front of Collins. She only asks in a small voice: "If I am recovering, why is it so hard to remember things? It is like looking at a moth-eaten quilt. The more I try to see, the less there is of it. And what I do remember, I am not certain I trust." Her right hand bunches up the blanket in a knot, her knuckles white. "Are you sure this is not permanent?"

"You are in Sickbay, Kylah, and you will fully recover from your injuries," the doctor assures her.

T'Var gives Collins a glance. "Mr. Collins may briefly explain what transpired on the planet. However, I must insist that a longer interview should wait until later."

The cargo bay doors open and a bearded man in Command yellow walks in. The Captain smiles and says, "Lt. Vaudreuil, would you please give Dr. Brold and his assistants a tour of the ship, and then show them to their quarters? Gentlemen, I look forward to having dinner with you tonight."

The officer says, "Certainly, ma'am. If you'll come with me, please...?" They leave.

In Sickbay, Dr. Villa looks in on Kylah, and overhears the young woman's question. "There's no reason to think it's permanent," the CMO says reassuringly. "All of your brain scans look good. But you've been through some trauma, and even with all the modern medicine at our disposal, there's still no substitute for rest and allowing the body's natural healing processes to work."

"Don't have much in the way of hopes and dreams anymore, my friend," Graham says quietly with a slight shake of his head, taking a sip of his beer afterward.

Mid-sip he notices Collins has replied.

"Fuck,' he mutters--almost--under his breath. He glances at Rawlings. "We're kind of stuck here until we can hear from Kylah first hand..." He turns his attention back to the communicator and texts a reply hurriedly.

Permission to come aboard--if she's awake--I'd really like to see....

He pauses a moment. Her? Why?

You don't need to check on her, if T'Var thinks she'll be OK she knows better than me.

To see the...damage...and say that if I could have done something, I would have done something... And I for sure wouldn't be spraining my elbow patting my own goddamned back about how great I am for being back on the ship the moment goddamned shore leave was over while you were...down there...

He continues,

...if she can remember any details that would give us a next step to take in the investigation.

T'Var's concerns are understandable but Kylah makes the effort to appear helpful. "I do not mind answering questions, but I fear I will be of little use unless my mind clears--"

Suddenly Kylah digests Dr. Villa's words, which resound in her head as if the other woman spoke them in an echoing cave. She turns over immediately, regretting the sudden movement that makes the room dip and tilt around her like a poorly balanced boat.

"Brain scans," she repeats in a low, wary tone, and shifts her alarmed gaze to T'Var. Endless rounds of tests and experimental treatments from her childhood--all to uncover and fix her psychic deformity, and all unsuccessful--have caused Kylah to dread any examination, especially of her brain.

With everything else she risks exposing, the possibility of the others learning of her biological anomaly did not even occur to her. "You scanned me. But you did not..." She swallows and tries to communicate her true meaning to T'Var, the only living person aside from her Uncle who knows her secret. "You did not find anything to--to worry about?"

The Docs won't let you question her yet, Collins messages back to Graham, and her memory right now is hazy at best. If you've stalled, you may as well all come back. We'll give Vargas a complete run down and see how he says to proceed. After she sends that off, she messages Vargas: The security team on the surface is beaming back up. The local LEOs have copies of everything. At your earliest convenience, may Jones, Graham, and I meet with you to discuss further courses of action?

Once Collins sends that off, she turns back to Kylah and the doctors. "Yes, please, Kylah, rest and heal. We can talk again in the morning." She takes Kylah's hand again, and holds in gently in both her hands a few moments, then let's go and looks up at the other woman. "Doctor Villa, if now is convenient for you? If not, I can reschedule my appointment."

Vargas approves the return of any or all of the Security personnel from the surface, "if you've learned everything you can down there for now."

Dr. Villa says to Kylah, "You have some interesting brain scans, Ensign, but no, nothing to worry about. Truly."

When Kylah is done talking with her she says to Collins, "Yes, I can see you now, if you wish." When alone with the Security officer she asks, "A full checkup, or something in particular...?"

"I'd like to know how I'm healing," Collins tells Dr. Villa, "and to get my booster shot so I don't have to go through that again." She smiles at Villa. "The being pregnant and miscarrying part, not the being involved in a criminal investigation part." she adds.

Kylah just nods weakly in response to Villa's words, still looking helplessly at T'Var for a few seconds before dropping her gaze. Then Collins takes her hand--this is the most she has ever touched Kylah since the two have known each other, and naturally it is only after Kylah pleaded with her not to. If Collins had no history of being poorly attuned to Kylah's wishes, Kylah would almost think it malicious. Instead, she tolerates the presumably well-meant gesture, even as her eyes burn and a haphazard flood of Collins's thoughts and emotions fills her unwilling mind.

The relief when Collins releases her is exhausting and Kylah closes her eyes with a ragged sigh. She does not understand why her empathic powers feel so raw and painful. Perhaps it is just related to the head injury, she thinks. Like there has been a bruise to... to whatever makes me the way I am. Maybe it will go away.

If it does not, Kylah cannot imagine ever wanting to be touched again. It is too much, the feelings penetrate her so brutally it is like a rape. She bites her lip and tries not to imagine Jan. Or Velir, in her room less than 24 hours ago. The thought of allowing Velir to kiss her, to caress her, every part of her naked body visible to him as it was last night... Even then, without this new injury, Kylah wanted him but feared being overpowered physically and emotionally.

What would she do if his hands were on her now? Not that he ever will do that again, she thinks, holding back a sob. He has not even bothered visiting her. His contempt earlier today... That is the strongest memory she has of the past few hours. I am anathema to him, he wants to be rid of me. And I tried to make it happen, she recalls vaguely. I tried to leave, to do what he wanted, but somehow I am back here. I failed even that. I always try and I always fail. Velir, her parents, Aldaan--even Starfleet, though no one yet realizes that she was willing to abandon her commission.

With the belief that she is doomed to disappoint everyone around her swirling in her disjointed thoughts, Kylah gradually falls into another fitful sleep.

Graham pays for the drinks and gestures for Rawlings to follow him outside. "Word from Collins and Vargas is beam up if we've got nothing more to do down here for the moment," he explains approvingly. He transmits the order to beam up to the Security team on planet: "Return to the Yorktown and take ten for whatever you need - food, clear your head, whatever...but be prepared to de-brief, this investigation is still in progress. Make sure you let any locals you're working with with that they should contact you via Yorktown."

Graham signals for beam-up and once onboard tries to make it a a point to try to avoid anyone and slip over to Sickbay to find Ens. Kylah.

Dr. Villa laughs and picks up a tricorder. She scans Collins and says, "You're healing well. I like what I'm seeing." She puts down the tricorder, picks up a hypospray and selects an ampule from a nearby cabinet. She sets the dosage and holds the hypospray up to Collins's throat; it hisses as the dose passes through Collins's skin. "There you are. Anything else?"

The other members of Ens. Graham's Security party acknowledge his message and beam back to the Yorktown. Graham sees no one to delay him en route to Sickbay. The duty nurse shows him into Kylah's recovery room; Dr. T'Var is still seated beside the sleeping Elasian woman.

"No," Collins says, then, "Well actually, I seem to go from emotionally high to emotionally low very quickly. Is that withdrawal or my recently befuddled hormones?"

Graham stands unmoving behind T'Var for a moment, looking at the injured young woman, keenly aware of each breath he takes, in and out.

His hands at his sides, he clenches and unclenches his fists once.

"I will be safe."

"I get myself into situations."

What "situation" caused this?

Who did this?

Graham is not tall, but he is solid, and even though Kylah is short (and Lizzy not much taller) seeing either of them lying down at rest makes them seem smaller than they would standing.

And why were you alone?

He remembers the moment he decided to obey Collins' orders not to continue on to the hotel.

You shouldn't have been alone. I knew it, I just didn't act on it....

"How's she doing, Doc?" he barely more than whispers.

It's not his place to put a hand on her head while she rests. It's probably not even my place anymore to put a hand on Lizzy's head while she rests.


To find who did this, To find a way to stop something like this from happening again, and that will have to be enough.

Rangin watches the group leave the cargo bay and then looks back at the sensor before making a few more notes. Halfway through a set of test cases he is trying to construct, he suddenly wonders if the Captain is including him at dinner that night. No, it was aimed at the guests, not him.

Snapped out of his technical thoughts, Rangin starts to think of everything else going on and, if there is the slight possibility he is going to be invited, there is one thing he needs to do in advance.

It is time to at least see how Kylah is doing. If he can sit and read to Fujishiro, he can do the same for her. Hopefully though, she is recovering and conscious. He hadn't been to see her yet given his orders, so now is the time. Rangin heads for Sickbay to see how she is.

"She will fully recover, Mr. Graham," T'Var replies. "Of course, she needs time and rest. If you wish to question her about what happened on the planet, such questioning will indeed have to wait."

Graham swallows hard, once, in response to T'Var's statement.

"Question her."

As if I'd push her....

...Hurt her...

He has no doubt that T'Var is communicating the facts as she sees them. Nor does he have any doubt that Kylah's as safe with T'Var at her side than she possibly could be.

He rubs his chin and takes a step back into the corner of the room. "Understood," he whispers. "I'd just like to...stand here, for awhile, if that's all right."

Dr. Villa says, "Your hormones are still in flux, it's true. Nothing to worry about, and nothing too out of the ordinary given your past biochemistry parameters, but I'm not surprised that you've been feeling its effects. It's post-pregnancy rather than post-Elsewhere. Is it bad enough that you'd prefer to be taken temporarily off-duty? I'll order it if you think it would be for the best."

Rangin arrives in Sickbay. The duty nurse shows him into Kylah's room; Dr. T'Var and Ens. Graham are already there.

"What? No!" Collins is shocked by the suggestion, then in a normal voice says, "I mean, I don't notice it when I'm on duty. It's only when I spend too much time thinking about stuff, when I'm alone and quiet. Is there something I can do about that? Other than trying not to dwell on stuff, I mean."

Rangin braces himself for what he is to do next and mulls it over in his mind. He had said his piece on the planet and they had parted on harsh terms. He had never wanted to do that and he doesn't want to lose a friend but what had occurred between them, well he doesn't want to remember.

It shames him to think so, but all he could do was wonder what she had done to earn it. It didn't make him feel any better thinking that way, as guilt gnawed at him. Could he have stopped her, been more of a friend, not got so angry and cursed her out? He wouldn't forgive himself if it was the case.

Heading into Sickbay where the doctors have left her sleeping, he heads straight across to the bed with barely a passing nod to T'Var sat next to her. Nothing and no-one else registers as Rangin can finally see Kylah lying there, his eyes are fixed firmly on her asleep and gently drowsing under the sheets, the rest of the room may as well not be there. He shudders as he fully sees the results of the assault she must have suffered, instead of the brief glance of the crumpled bloodstained figure he saw on planet's surface before Kylah was immediately transported back to the Yorktown. Bruises slowly fading on her forehead, grazes carefully tended but still marking her skin. Rangin is struck by how different it was from last night.

Last time, he had seen her in bed, her body had been almost perfect, unblemished and tanned, but she had been as taut as those zither strings, nervous, forced and almost hesitant. And now, despite the injuries, she looked more at peace, uneasy though it is. Someone he wouldn't run away from, someone he wouldn't say those things to. Rangin shakes his head, it wouldn't last, would it. Once she wakes up it would be back to the status quo, regardless of how she is. What could have changed for him to give her a second chance, without the expectation of it going wrong again.

"I'm sorry Kylah, it didn't have to be like this. I never wanted this to happen.". The words crawl slowly and quietly from Rangin's mouth as the guilt starts to consume him, but he is unsure if she can hear his words or even if she would want to respond to them.

Looking for another chair to sit on he notices her bag, the one that had contained the zither that had never been broken, placed carefully to one side and alongside it, a bloodstained and torn dress, the last remnants of what she was wearing at the time, neatly folded, but beyond any further chance of being worn again. Even while unconscious, she had refused to let go of the bag, holding it tightly as if it was the most important thing to her. Perhaps it still is.

He can't help it, he knows it is wrong, but he needs to know. Before T'Var can react or even say anything, Rangin opens the bag to look inside and his heart breaks once again for her. Nestled in the soft cloth of another dress is the remains of her zither, matching those left behind on the planet, smashed and broken beyond repair. And then he spies the gift box behind it, the gift she had tried to offer him only a few hours ago. The emotions come flooding back, the pain, the hurt she had caused him and he stands up straight trying to catch his breath and think clearly once again.

Rangin thoughts are disturbed by the noise of Kylah beginning to toss and turn on the bed. He can see her hands pulling at the sheets, wringing them as she reacts to some enemy in her dreams. Unthinking he steps around and puts a hand on her upper arm, holding it gently, but firmly, and trying to stop Kylah from threshing around.

Aldaan is enraged. She has forgotten to send him the latest report and now that she is home for a visit, she cannot escape a one-on-one meeting with him. The room is dingy, not anything she recognizes as belonging to her family. But mostly her attention focuses on her uncle. He starts out deathly quiet and deceptively calm.

"Tell me the truth," he says, circling his niece while he seems to stare through her mind--as if he has the empathic ability rather than her. "Tell the truth, if you even know how. You know whatever it is, I will not hurt you. I have never hurt you before, have I?"

"No," Kylah whispers, hugging her arms around her thin yellow dress--too cold for the temperature within the room. "But you are frightening me. You do not sound like yourself."

He does not--his voice is muffled, indistinct. "You should be frightened. I told you I wanted us to be honest with each other, it is the only way our unique relationship can work. But you failed. Time and again I've asked, waiting for you to be honest, but you defy me, and my patience is at an end. Talk to me! I know you're hiding something!"

She shakes her head. The questioning continues and she tries to appease him, but nothing works. She does not know what he wants, and the more he tries to wrest the truth from her, the more stubborn she gets. "I cannot tell you anything further," she says, broken. "All I want is to please you. I love you, why is that not enough?"

With a disgusted noise he grabs her left wrist and yanks her to him. "You miserable, lying siren," he spits at her, inches away, and twists her arm until she cries out for mercy. He has never been violent to her and she is in utter shock. "Don't play-act for me. I know you too well. I should never have trusted you. You've broken faith with me and your entire family! You've whored yourself out to the Federation filth!"

"No, no, I would never--"

"Liar!" He backhands her, the slap ringing in her ears, and she tumbles backward, held up only by his vicious grip. Tears blind her. He points down at a pile of broken crystal on the grubby floor, remnants of some object she cannot identify. "Do you see what you did? In pieces. A treasure like that, the one thing tying you to me, the one thing that let you prove your value. You didn't deserve to be trusted with such an heirloom. You haven't done your duty, you haven't done as I asked. If I hadn't coddled you for so long you wouldn't have destroyed this, as you do everything!"

Kylah has no idea what the crystal shards are, but she stammers an apology. Aldaan ignores her words, pushing her backwards until she topples down onto a bed--a bed that seems to have come from nowhere. In fact, the room has changed--it is dark, there is music playing... dance music, Terran music... and Aldaan is wearing... a mask? A Coridanite mask.

"I'm sorry Kylah," says the voice from behind the mask. It sounds regretful. Final. "It didn't have to be like this. I never wanted this to happen..."

The unspoken threat is too apparent. This is not Aldaan at all. Someone else is here, someone who feels guilt and regret. Wanted what to happen? What is he going to do to her? Panic electrifies her every muscle and she starts to roll off the hard, uncomfortable bed.

But now he is on top of her, and while his right hand is still locked around her painful left wrist, suddenly she feels his fingers around her right arm, and though his touch is light, it is agonizing--a sharp burning sensation rushes through her, connecting his mind to hers like a leash of fire.

But the thoughts are not Aldaan's, they cannot be those of her uncle. The feelings are very different: Anger, resentment, sadness, and--most disturbing of all--a tiny flicker of longing. Of desire. Not just a desire for her, but a desire for vengeance. It is faint, but it is there.

Horrified, she tries again to escape but the man's superior weight bearing down upon her locks her in place. He is now half-dressed, and he has clasped her wrists together above her head with his left hand. With his right, he strips the dress from her--black silk, not yellow, she does not understand how everything has changed, but she is mortified by her naked vulnerability and struggles harder. Somehow, on some animal level, she knows her knife is gone and she has nothing left to protect herself.

Instead of ogling her body, he raises his free arm above his head. For the first time Kylah sees the heavy club in his hand. Her confused, alarmed expression makes the man laugh--and his voice is now silvery, almost mockingly gentle. The voice of someone who used to be a friend but has turned against her.

"Of course. You thought I wanted you, right? That I would be desperate to sleep with you, like all the other men you think you can control? Never. Never. I wouldn't soil myself with your touch." He bends down and nearly kisses her as he mutters contemptuously: "I want you out of my life, do you hear me? I don't want to see you again. I don't want to know you. It's time I got rid of you once and for all. You are useless, useless!" And at last his arm swings down, the club striking her shoulder, then her neck and ribs.

Kylah screams, pleading, but it is in vain. As if the weapon's brutal force isn't enough, she can also feel the broken shards of crystal digging into her naked back. Her warm blood seeps into the sheets beneath her. He keeps beating her, and suddenly there are two more men behind him, both in masks too, laughing and raising their clubs to join in. Each vicious slam of their weapons is accompanied by the repeated words: useless liar...useless, filthy liar...

In sickbay, Kylah cries out. "Stop! Stop, forgive me!" Her tortured words are almost indistinguishable from sobs. "Please..."

The sound of her own voice wakes her, which should be a relief, but when her eyes open, the man is still there, even now, looming over her, not letting her move. With his hand curling around her chilly flesh, the physical and psychic connection is so strong Kylah can no longer confuse this man's identity. It is Velir. She has never been inside his mind before, so conscientious despite all her temptations, but now he that is forcing his emotions on her there is no mistaking it. Worse, he is as calm as ever. He thinks he is being kind. But she is not the only one who lied. He did.

She gasps and shrinks from him, though she is so weak she can only turn her head. "You promised you would not hurt me," she whispers, weeping, remembering the words in her dream. "You promised."

Graham is surprised to see Rangin enter the room, and not sure whether he should be surprised or that it's to be expected that Rangin completely ignores him.

He almost blurts out "aren't you worried you'll be late for something?" but aside from trying to keep things professional, Rangin moves like a man on a mission over to Kylah.

What the hell is he doing? Graham wonders, leaning forward a little to better see and hear. At first he takes it as a chance to get a better sense of what happened given how un-forthcoming Rangin was on the planet, but any sense of putting puzzle pieces together is eclipsed in an instant as three and only three things immediately consume all of his attention:

Rangin grabs her arm.

Kylah yells "stop."

"You promised you would not hurt me."

Graham closes the distance in a half step, half-leap and from behind Rangin wedges the heel of his left hand hard under his chin, against the artery, and takes with his right takes hold of Rangin's right arm just under the shoulder, forcing his fingers into the armpit so if necessary he can not only pull the arm but also push his fingers up and under to pinch the nerve--pushing him up and away from Kylah if he tried to hang on, or to hunker down and grab her.

If he doesn't let. go. of. her. now. cut blood flow to cause temporary blackout, spin him to my right away from Kylah, face down to the floor...

"You have three seconds to step away from her under your own power mister," Graham says icily in Rangin's ear.

He really doesn't care how Rangin responds; he's simply certain that whatever the hell he did to her he's never going to be able to do it again.

Dr. Villa says, "Perhaps you'd like to meet with Dr. Noel? Talking things through with an experienced counselor can be very helpful."

There is a moment of stunned silence in the recovery ward as the others react to what Graham has done. Then Dr. T'Var says sharply, "Release Mr. Rangin immediately, Mr. Graham. That is a direct order."

"Yeah, maybe." Collins is not at all sure that's the right move for her, but continues, "I'll think about that." She gets up to leave. "Thank you for seeing me, and the shot, Doc."

Jeremi steps out of Dr. Villa's office and hears something coming form Kylah's room. As she arrives in the doorway, she sees Graham holding Rangin by the neck, and T'Var on her feet looking very stern. Kylah is still in bed, but now looks more frightened than before. Collins moves in to pull Graham off Rangin, and pushes him towards the doorway. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hisses at Booker.

Getting written up is pretty much the last thing on Graham's mind at the moment. Unfortunately, trying to fight with Collins to retain control over Rangin is a receipt for getting Kylah hurt.

Hurt more.

Graham doesn't resist when Collins pulls him off Rangin, but when she pushes him toward the door he doesn't give a centimeter. "Separating Mr. Rangin from his victim," he answers Collins intensely but evenly, his eyes fixed on Rangin rather than her. His eyes flick only for a moment to T'Var and then back. "You heard as well as I did, Doc."

"What were you looking for in the bag so intently, some piece of incriminating evidence you'd forgotten about on Anubis?" he asks Rangin.

"Ensign Graham!" Collins shays sharply, "You are excused." She points to the hallway like an angry parent. "Go cool off. We will discuss this later." She stands between Graham and Rangin. Jeremi doesn't know exactly what transpired between Kylah and Rangin, but her gut tells her Rangin was not the cause of Kylah's injuries. When Graham still doesn't budge, she adds "You have now disobeyed two superior officers. Shall I call Commander Vargas in for a hat trick?"

Graham's doesn't move, but his eyes do to fix Collins' eyes directly. "Fuck. Rank." he replies without raising his voice.

"Your word, grunt-to-grunt, he won't be alone with her--not for a second."

"Doctor T'Var is here, and we can set it so all visits are supervised," Collins tilts her head back towards T'Var, "Right, Doctor?"

Kylah might no longer be sleeping, but she has awoken to another nightmare.

It begins when she discovers Velir grabbing her. Then, out of nowhere, someone latches onto Velir, and the utter rage has seeped from this blur through Velir's skin right to Kylah. The result is a trail of chaotic fury and confusion that sears her brain. She whines like a beaten dog before cringing back, as far back as she can. There are too many people around her--a third now rises, and through her tears she sees it is tall, taller than either of the others. But this one is the calmest of the three.

An image from her dream blinds her for an instant. Three. There were three of them. Three men, three masks...

She shakes her head and focuses on the only person who seems likely to listen to her. Of course she now understands that it is T'Var--there is no one but the Vulcan whose controlled emotions are such a balm. "Stop them," she moans, "please stop them." But her words are inaudible compared to the harsh voices around her.

In truth Kylah cannot understand what they are saying, either. Their emotions are nearly as violent an assault as what she experienced in that room.

Then others enter--Collins, Kylah recognizes immediately, is one of them, and she barks an order at the man--the one grabbing Velir--the one whose fury is so white hot and powerful with coiled energy he could be powering the ship. When his attention is momentarily broken from Velir, Kylah senses the shift in his emotions, just slightly, and at last she regains some clarity.

Graham. Graham. Defending her. And risking himself, too, if Collins's words are an indication.

Kylah is so stunned that, disregarding her weakened left wrist and dizzy brain, she forces herself to rise, or at least attempts it before she falls back on the bed. "Mr. Graham," she begs hoarsely. "Do not do this, do not get in trouble for me, I am not worth it." She turns to everyone--everyone but Velir, who has said nothing and whom she cannot face--and weeps with embarrassment. "He just wanted to help me. Let me speak with him. Please. Please."

Fiona helped Graham to his feet, the usual bullies having had their entertainment.

Catcalls, gestures, touching, grabbing...

Stop it, he said again. And once again, mostly it seemed for entertainment value, the largest boy, the ringleader of the pack who'd take a special...liking...to Fiona had administered the customary beating.

Who would they complain to? You're her brother, take care of it, Dad would say. Mom would say nothing at all. Or maybe something worse than nothing. Did you bring this on yourself...?

You have to stop doing this, Fiona said to him. I'm not worth it.

It was only when he was older he understood the context: the 23rd Century and a particular evil still lurked in some men, something that simply wouldn't die...

Unless you killed it.

Kylah stares at Graham for a few seconds, watching him carefully, and then turns to T'Var, because if the doctor will allow it, she is certain Collins will too. "I will be all right," she says shakily. "I know Mr. Graham will... he will just listen. Please let me talk to him. I do not want anyone else here. No one."

She emphasizes the last word as much as her weak voice will let her. And if Velir takes that badly, Kylah--for once, perhaps the only time in their brief relationship--does not care. But then she amends it, because she cannot help herself. "If someone does wish to speak to me after, that will be all right as well," she finishes softly.

Rangin's concern for Kylah, as she wakes from whatever nightmare she is suffering, is brutally and viciously cut short as he is grabbed from behind. Overwhelmed that something like this could happen in Sickbay, of all places, especially with T'Var sat right there, leave Rangin's thoughts reeling until he hears the cold growl in his ear from what sounds like Ensign Graham shortly before the raid on the old colony buildings on OCIII. Realising that Graham is not going to be reasoned with or questioned in any way, Rangin lets go of Kylah's arm but doesn't move feeling an icy cold fear of what might happen in the very, very near future as the events of the last few days start to run through his mind, everything that has happened in brief and vivid relief as he waits for Graham to ignore anything he might say and do and try and strangle him anyway.

T'Var's whipcrack of an order brings the world back into sharp relief, but still Graham is not letting go, like some rabid dog who doesn't know any better. Rangin stays still, unmoving, not daring to change the situation in case it triggers Graham's temper and does something that, although Graham might regret later on, could have more serious and far-reaching implications for Rangin despite the close proximity of so may doctors. The twisted irony is not lost on him.

And then he feels Graham being pulled off by another, the low hiss making it difficult to place the female, and while Graham mutters something incoherent about Kylah being Rangin's victim as well as the accusation about evidence, Rangin slowly tries to stand up feeling pulled out of shape and unsteady on his feet wondering if Graham's knows, or even cares, that his tight grip is likely to leave bruises. Then he recognises the red headed form of Collins standing between them, trying to push Graham away.

Rangin breathes deeply trying to maintain his composure and recover his senses only to hear Collins agree with Graham that she doesn't trust him around Kylah. Untrusted: was there anyone on this ship who did trust him. Kylah certainly didn't; she had proved that in spades and now both Collins and Graham are of the same mind. Rangin starts to settle into an cold, icy fury.

It hurts more when Kylah wakes up and the first thing she does is plead for Graham. For Graham. Rangin grits his teeth, and stands there in the storm of words that swirls round him. There is one long exhale as he stands up straight, fury in his eyes at what just happened, his muscles locked tight and his own feelings of being betrayed and untrusted by those who were supposed to be colleagues racing through his veins. He feels as cold as the Coridan poles, wanting nothing more to do with those here.

"No Mr. Kylah, I will not be waiting to speak to you again. I came to see you, to make sure you were safe and recovering. I have done so." The tone comes out, clipped, enunciated, civil and genteel with no hint of what just happened inflected in it, but one that brooks the attention of everyone in the room.

"As it appears that Security considers me a threat to your person and I am not to be trusted alone with you." Rangin's gaze fixes on Collins on Graham with cold, hostile fury, "I do believe any further conversation between us maybe a little...stilted. That is should you wish to discuss your actions while on Anubis. Don't worry, I'm sure plenty of plenty of people will be only too delighted to visit you, perhaps ask you questions about what happened, but only when you have recovered, of course."

A thin crease of a smile showing no feeling appears on his face, "However, before I leave," Rangin steps across and down to the bag and reaches inside, past the broken zither pieces to the little gift box at the back. As he looks inside and plucks it out, it dawns on him that the dress still in there is another of Kylah's dresses, a glance to one side confirms his memory that she was assaulted in her yellow dress.

Standing up clutching the box he turns holding it in front of him before thrusting it past Collins and into Graham's chest forcing him to catch it before it is dropped. "Here you go Mr Graham," Rangin says ever-so-politely, "I am of the opinion that I do not deserve this gift from Mr. Kylah any more, perhaps you should have it instead."

Rangin turns to Lt. Collins. "I'm sorry Ma'am, I'm afraid I do not have a gift of you, but I do have a suggestion," his voice almost sing-song as if talking to a young child, "You may wish to consider what happened to your roommates uniform. She was wearing it when I left, and now..." Rangin gestures as if it had just vanished in a magician's trick.

Stepping past them Collins and Graham and turning to Dr T'Var. "Ma'am, I'm sure you can physically heal Mr Kylah to the best of health. But I do fear that just like her zither, she's broken." The last word slips out as an epithet, rolled off the tongue in disgust, as Rangin's mask of gentility slips for a moment, before it disappears and is replaced by the serene look of someone of doing little more than taking a daily stroll and chatting to friends.

"Now, if you will excuse me all, I have work to do on a new sensor array, Captain's orders." Rangin steps to the door...

just a few more moments, keep it together.

don't let them know how you feel, so untrusted and hated.

don't let them know how much it hurts, how your insides are twisted like a Gordian knot.

don't let them know how betrayed you feel by your colleagues, by Starfleet.

"Good night all." as he strides confidently through it and out of Sickbay.

don't give them anything.

Only when Velir uses her name--Mr. Kylah--is Kylah forced to look up at him. And she wishes she had not. This is not the kind, warm face she has sought out with growing affection since their first dinner back on Starbase 27. This is the distant, granite-hard gaze of a stranger.

No: an enemy.

She clutches her right wrist to her, still tingling from his touch, and stares in acute, shocked misery while Velir Rangin addresses her with the same icy, accusatory tone he used with Fellim Palver--a murderer. Each word stabs at her, first his cutting off all communication, next a threat of some kind about others learning of her behavior on Anubis... What behavior?

Then his hands reach down and, to her astonishment, pull open a canvas bag. My bag, she thinks with a gasp, thinking it was lost, only now to see this man who suddenly hates her rustling through her belongings. No, no, why does he think he has the right--?

The gift box appears and it all rushes back to her. Purchasing it with such absurd, childlike hope that he would be pleased. Velir's cutting refusal, as if she were trying to bribe him. And now, once again he shows his contempt for what was bought with pure affection and admiration, shoving it into Graham's chest as if he is trying to divest himself of a package that might explode.

"Velir..." she starts to say, but the effort is overtaken by his making some pointed remark about her uniform. She does not understand. Which is the theme to this entire confrontation, really. Her mind does not seem able to process what is happening. He thinks she does not trust him, as he has said dozens of times, but it is worse than that. He thinks... he thinks she blames him for her attack? He thinks the others do, too--can he be right? Is that what Graham truly thinks? Kylah turns helplessly to face both security officers and T'Var, shaking her head in confusion, before returning to Velir.

Just in time to hear him remind her of her zither, and compare her to it. Broken. A final blow, no less hurtful than whatever physically assaulted her. She groans as he turns to leave, and with some stored strength--or masochistic need to debase herself--she drags herself to the edge of the bed, grabbing onto a small table nearby for support as she tries to stand. "Do not go, not like this," she gasps dizzily and reaches her right arm out, as if she can pull him back through sheer will. Wildly she turns to grasp the package back from Graham. "This is yours, this is for you, it is... it survived, it is still here, that must mean something!"

But he is gone now. The rejection--one of so many, everything she has offered him, from this gift to her very self--is more than she can bear. Kylah cannot remain on her shaky legs any longer and she tries to sit on the bed, but instead she clumsily misses the bunk entirely and falls to her knees.

Her bag is on the floor nearby, where Velir left it. Just as he left her, as he keeps leaving her, no matter how much she tries to hold on to him. Setting down the Velir's gift with precise care, Kylah pulls at the canvas bag's opening with trembling fingers. When she stares inside, for the first time since awaking on the ship, she sees how empty it is. Her uniform is missing. And not just that: her knife, and her jewelry, her mother's jewelry. "It is gone," she whispers, horrified as the truth strikes her as brutally as when she first discovered the loss. "They took it, they took everything..."

And finally she sees the true desecration of what was her cherished zither. Cracked pieces of paper-thin stone. The delicate crystal strings shattered, turned to dust. This is not an accident, something that occurred if the bag had merely fallen to the ground. It is spite. A foot stomped on this, or the clubs battered it. For no reason. It had worth, it was valuable. But it meant the world to her, and so apparently it had to be destroyed. Why? Why?

There is nothing left to repair. Nothing will put it together again. Like me, she thinks, unable to argue with Velir's cruel verdict. Like us.

She cradles her head in her hands and sobs.

Collins is surprised by Rangin's words. She wants to tell him it's not that she doesn't trust him, she was just placating Graham. But Rangin did not appear receptive to any explanation, so she watched, stunned, as he delivered his verdict and left.

Then Jeremi turns to see Kylah trying to stand and then falling to the floor. She rushes to help her roommate up then hears the girl's exclamation. Robbery. That makes sense, given the evidence. What did she have with her in that bag? Why did she take it on shore leave? It had to something more valuable than the zither or the robbers wouldn't have destroyed it, they'd have just taken it, too. Why take the zither on shore leave? And what *did* happen to her uniform?

Collins holds her hands out for Kylah to take hold of.

Graham is dumbfounded T'Var and Collins stand by while Rangin plays out his sick manipulative tirade.

They haven't heard some version of this script a hundred times before like I have. That doesn't reduce his frustration: that's why we needed to get this bastard out of the room and away from her.

It takes supreme effort for Graham to remain still, silent, and express no emotion when Rangin pushes some little box into his hands. Whatever he's doing, he's doing to push her buttons. Odds are I'll only make it worse by bumbling into whatever trap he's laying.

Plus--regs on the use of force aside--his odds of hauling--no, how about hurling--Rangin out of the room are actually not good at all if Collins and T'Var both wanted to stop him.

Rangin's sociopathic mask of civility slips only for a second when he describes her as "broken" and for a moment Graham weighs testing the odds anyway.

Resisting that urge is easy compared to remaining still while Kylah desperately tries to take the box from his hands. It's not the moment to say anything until the scumbag leaves and they can pick up the pieces from there,

Stupidly he hopes he can somehow project or manifest reassurance:

Don't worry, I know it's hard, but you're safe.

I know it's hard to believe now, but no matter what he says, he can never hurt you again.

When Rangin finishes and leaves, Collins moves to comfort Kylah. That works for him: he leans in behind Collins and murmurs in her ear. "That is one sick fucking son of a bitch."

Then he moves to take a position blocking the the door: he's sure it's extremely unlikely Rangin would return. That would undermine the power of his little performance.

But Graham's purpose is crystal clear: should he, he'll enter this room over my dead body.

Collins resists the urge to shove her elbow backwards into what ever piece of Graham is closest to it. She just ignores him and helps Kylah back into bed.

Kylah feels Collins's presence nearby, trying to help, but Kylah just shakes her head, bringing her tear-dampened hands down to clutch them at her chin, almost prayerfully. "How did everything go so wrong?" she whispers, eyes vacantly staring at the doorway. "I do not know. I truly do not know."

Her movements painfully slow, she gathers her bag into a bundle, remembering in a flash of agony to take Velir's present. Collins insists on helping her despite her refusal, and again Kylah must tolerate someone putting hands on her against her will. And, just as it has ever since she woke up, her head aches angrily in response.

Somehow she gets to her feet, wobbling for a few seconds before sitting back on the bed. She hugs her bag close to her and continues to shake her head. Feeling the weight of everyone's gaze, she closes her eyes in shame.

"I am sorry for causing such trouble," she says, muffled against her hand that embraces the canvas. "You are wrong about Velir, Mr. Graham. He had nothing to do with what happened to me, I am sure of it. I do not know why you think he could do such a thing..." Except how much he hates me. Kylah still cannot comprehend how quickly Velir turned against her, like a viper. Only I could make such a good man be so cruel. "It is not in his nature, he is normally... normally so gentle. So please do not blame Vel... Mr. Rangin," Kylah amends. She realizes she has no right to use his first name; there is no warmth between them now.

Kylah opens her eyes and looks at Collins. "It was a robbery. That is all. Some personal things were taken. Some money. My uniform, I do not know why. All I remember is that they wore masks. I cannot identify whoever did it. I beg you to forget it. If we are staying in orbit because of this investigation, please, please do not. I am not worth it," she repeats. Her gaze travels back to Graham. "May I speak with you? Alone? Please, Lt. Collins, Dr. T'Var--I will not rest otherwise."

"Yes you are worth it." Collins quietly tells Kylah, "Every member of this crew is worth it." Collins then looks to T'Var and wordlessly asks if the doctor thinks it's okay to leave Graham alone with Kylah.

If T'Var nods, Collins will leave, but not before an intense eye-to-eye with Graham. "We'll be right outside," she says to all within earshot.

If T'Var indicates it's not a good idea. Collins will move to the back of the room in the shadows and remain there, very quiet.