Starbase 47 ◇ Thread Concluded SD: 2408.1129

[Nia Lemond]

It had been less than forty-eight hours since the trouble in the Docking Lounges ..... Admiral Reynolds had now assigned Security personnel onto all four of the Observation Lounges, hopefully ensuring there wouldn't be a repeat of the previous unrest, alas, nothing usually went as planned:

She was walking on Alpha Promenade with her Adjutant, having enjoyed lunch in one of the smaller eateries. They could hear an argument up ahead and Lemond shook her head in dismay.

"I'll call Security," Erin said, tapping her Comm badge. As they approached, Nia could see a group of eight men, all shouting at once, with a sigh she stepped forward:

"... QUIET!..." she shouted. Several of the group looked around, seeing the black uniform and rank insignia, began to find elsewhere to be, but the main protagonists, three men, were still in the midst of the argument, and Nia repeated her earlier order: 

"... QUIET ... NOW!" she said, clearly not willing to be ignored. This time the three broke off shouting and glared at her.

"Go away lady, this is none of your concern," one of the men said.

"Oh, given the disruption you are causing, I believe it 'is' my concern. Now. Mind telling me what all the yelling is about?"

"I know you..." Erin said, thinking back to the trouble in O'Tooles a couple of days earlier, "... Szabo, Rene, you work in Cargo, right?"

"Where I work or who I am is my concern lady, now, do yourselves a favour and toggle-on to wherever you were going," Szabo said, glaring at the much smaller Intelligence Officer.

"What 'IS' our concern is the effect you are having on the Promenade visitors, so, I would suggest you break up, go your separate ways, and if you want to continue your discussion, find somewhere a little less private to do so ..... I would hate for these Security Officers to feel the need to arrest you all, especially on such a lovely day," Lemond said with a disarming smile, alas, her comment had the opposite effect.

"LOVELY DAY! ..... What the hell are you talking about, today is like every other day on this coffin! ..... Same air, same lighting, same bloody people sticking their noses in where they don't belong," Another of the group spat, eyeing the Security personnel who were now surrounding them awaiting orders from Lemond.

"I could arrange for the lighting to vary," Nia said, a smile on her face, knowing she was winding the man up to the point he would do something worthy of arrest.

"Look lady, I haven't seen 'SUNLIGHT' for 'FOUR YEARS' ... There are ships up there that could get us home, and now we hear that they are planning to leave, yet here we are, stuck in this overgrown tin can!"

"The schedules of Starfleet vessels are of no concern to you, though I would be interested in how you heard they were leaving," Erin said, eyeing the man, who simply pointed. Erin and Nia followed the direction he was indicating and both stood in complete silence for a long moment.

Throughout the Starbase, there were countless massive monitors showing arrivals and departures of Military, Civilian, and private craft. For four years they had been decommissioned, but now, they showed a list of Starships:

VESSEL:		STATUS:		ARRIVAL INFORMATION:		DEPARTURE INFORMATION:
USS El Salvador		Docked		-		Classified
USS Raven-C		Docked		-		Classified
USS Maracanda		Out		-		Classified
USS El Alamein		Out		-		Classified
USS Charleston		-		-		2406.1014 .. .. 22:38 ..
USS James Clark Maxwell		-		-		Classified
USS Vicksburg		-		-		Classified
USS Schrodinger		-		-		Classified
USS Oxford		-		-		Classified

"Who the 'HELL' authorised reactivation of the Information Screens?!" Nia asked, her frustration complete, she turned to one of the Security personnel and ordered they escort the three arguing men off the Promenade, she warned them that if there were any further incidents they would be arrested, then she turned and stormed away, Erin close behind her. They stepped into a turbo-lift:

"Mezzanine Level .. ..Comand Center," she demanded. The turbo-lift, knowing nothing of her mood, politely carried out her request. Erin knew better than talk, it was completely out of character for her superior to lose her temper, but this was something new, and understandable. They stepped out of the turbo-lift and Nia glared around the massive Command Floor, then up at the half dozen monitors displaying ships' status:

"Commander Helgeson ... My office please!" Nia barked, not waiting for a response. When the man entered he didn't have time to ask what she wanted as Nia pointed to the numerous screens suspended around the Command Center.

"Mind explaining, Commander?" Lemond asked.

"Admiral, I was under the impression the order came from Command," the man said, clearly confused.

"We have people all over the Station practically rioting because they think we are keeping them here, now they have the very information that confirms, not that it was needed, that we have Starships docked that could take them home,"

"Admiral, I assure you, I just followed the order," Helgeson said, activating a PADD he was holding before handing it to Erin. She looked at the PADD as Nia stood waiting.

"Who gave the order?" Lemond asked, dangerously muted. Erin turned the PADD around so the Intelligence Director could see:

"Whoever set this up clearly didn't have all the information needed..." Erin was saying, then looked up, "... You did, Admiral," she said, sensing the man beside her physically relax if only a fraction. Nia looked at the order, it had indeed come from her.

"Commander, my apologies, please shut off 'ALL' information screens throughout the Starbase immediately, then have someone look into how 'I' managed to give an order I never gave," she slumped into her chair, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Why even bother?" Erin asked.

"To add fuel to the fire..." Lemond said with a sigh, "... I need to properly apologise to Erik, I chewed him out for no reason, it's unacceptable,"

"He'll live," Erin said with a wry smile, before placing the PADD on Nia's desk and going into the small kitchen between hers and the Admiral's office.




Sat on one of the tables outside O'Tooles, Lieutenant Pablo Garcia smiled as the information screens shut down ..........

[Gheskori]

Ghes was sitting in his office trading ideas with Barton, back and forth, potential avenues being proposed and shot down in moments, while others were pursued some way before being seen to be infeasible, worthy of further work or, if the worst was realised, found out already to be in practice.

It was the following day from Ghes's meeting with Carl about the Raven's heading out. It was one way of dealing with the civilians - physically remove the attendant starships to remove the possibility there'd be any sort of rush on them. The Enzio was docked the other side of the Dome from where most of the trouble had been, so its presence wasn't seen as a significant problem, the Sovereign class Raven though was the nearest vessel to Delta Lounge, the agreed epicentre of all this. Quite besides that, though, the starship was needed for operational matters. The Raven's crew would be called back later this afternoon.

Back to the discontented civilian problems, they didn't know how they were going to manage things except for fencing off the docking ring until further notice, but that was one of the options that'd been seen as infeasible. A figure appeared at the door, then a second, and Ghes realised Burr was returning from his counselling session; with him was Lieutenant Commander Tamarov, the former El Salvador Operations officer.

"Ah, John, take a seat, we were busy coming up with suggestions to pass to Reynolds," Ghes greeted his now-junior aide. "And Commander Tamarov. What can I do for you?"

"Commander Burr asked me to assist him with data collation from the subsidiary computer core."

Ghes knew that since seeing Burr like that that one time, Alexey had felt somehow responsible; though such a thing was ridiculous, he had been first on the scene after Ghes, and so had been aware of all this from the beginning. As a result of the suicide attempt, Tamarov had been spending a lot more time round the SA's office, talking to aides, asking where he could assist; Gheskori was glad there was another person wanting to make themselves helpful, and Tamarov seemed expectant that he might be requested again.

"Well, have a seat, Commander Tamarov. We'll see what we can come up with." Ghes, his two aides, and Tamarov, talked for a couple hours.

<Tag Tamarov/Savot>

With Tamarov's departure, the three turned focus onto Sairal. A complaint from the Andorian embassy in the Beta quadrant's Z sector - delivered via subspace - had pressured Ghes into authorising Sairal's release from the detention cells back to his ambassadorial quarters, though he was under guard still and couldn't leave.

They still had nothing from the Andorian, and without forcing the information from him - on what he was doing scanning critical Enzio systems during the tour - they had no choice but to accept his silence. Communications with Gaston Malthus via subspace - the Regent still returning to the Alpha Centauri colony to resume his administration on behalf of Alpha Centauri's hereditary figurehead ruler - had gone unanswered; the Regent had been seen several times speaking covertly to Sairal and had protested vehemently when the Andorian was challenged in the Enzio conference room, while VP Drake had been mystified and tried to laugh the matter off with a smile of his brilliant, pearl-white teeth.

They'd attempt to contact Malthus again, the human certainly knew something. Gheskori put a comm through to the Enzio to start researching Malthus's file, specifically his connections with Ambassador Sairal; hopefully Yarwood and/or Hurel could turn up something.

<Tag Enzio>

[Andae Blakus]

The Wheel

Blakus was on his second light synthehol at Milyanov's get-together in The Wheel, talking with Dyson while T'Seng and Burwell spoke about some incredibly obscure subject nearby.

Edging away from T'Seng and Burwell, Blakus looked where the engineer had indicated, Milyanov and the Tellarite lieutenant. "Ah, the lieutenant's been causing you trouble? Sometimes tardy, and unscrupulous. Only sometimes. I don't know him well, he was one of Milyanov's appointees after he took over."

He glanced at his synthehol after another sip and made a face, placing it on the sill of one of the mess's portals and reaching for a piece of cake, "Look, they're good officers. Trust Christina Taylor, she's been on my staff since I was Chief Engineer on the Vic. Nathan Tinsley's good as well. And Milyanov," they looked with amusement over at the Russian who was currently trying to dissuade the people around him from offering him a triple shot of vodka, "Well, he's good most of the time. You should know, he may grow tired of his teaching post. It's almost as difficult to keep him away from engineering as to keep myself away. He knows more about that warp core than me. Only for the Raven-C, though. The Raven-B?" Blakus laughed abruptly, "Don't be ridiculous."


Next day, Departure Lounge Delta, Starbase 47

"... already know that this Section cares nothing for you! They themselves feel abandoned by Starfleet, by the Federation from which they were unwillingly cast away, and now they feel that Federation has turned its back on them. As they have turned their backs on us!"

"That's right." "Down with Starfleet!" "Down with the SA!" Close to the makeshift podium the crowd cheered as one, but farther away the reaction was one of people disconcerted, unhappy, their cries far from in unison. A person towards the back watched the man on the podium, clearly pumped and puffed up by the response from the crowd; his name was Rene Szabo, and he was playing the demagogue,

"The Federation may wish to reincorporate this Section, it is true," Szabo had their attention, their near-silence again, "Ships may leave here without us, and for legitimate reasons, it is true. Oh yes, to carry on their noble missions, their work for the mighty Starfleet. Indeed, it is already happening, but who will be left behind in this crusade in the quest for perfect knowledge?! Who, I say?!"

"Us!"

"Yes, the lifeblood of this Starbase! What has kept this base operational during its time out in Cygnus! What has been responsible for waste management, manual work..."

The man at the back looked on in derision and puzzlement as Szabo reeled off a string of rhetorical questions, the crowd chanting back 'Us!' each time. He saw that fellow Kerlin and several heavies come to stand behind Szabo. The derisive listener prepared to leave, but paused as Rene changed tack again,

"All of you know that supply vessels arrived this morning... While Section 47 bemoans its lot, the Federation will carry on as if nothing has happened to disturb its utopian equilibrium, while we will be forgotten and left to rot here! Now, I beg you, take what's yours... We won't lie in the dust to be eaten up by rats, take what's yours. We won't stand idly by while our age-old spacefarers' ethics are ground to dust, take what's yours. Forward!"

The crowd of about 450 civs exploded as if in a spontaneous riot, heaving together before surging in a tide out of the lounge towards the main docking ring, screaming with raised balled fists and backing each other up.

The man at the back extricated himself and tapped his commbadge, =/\=Section Admiral's office, this is Burr. I hope Admiral Reynolds is aware of this. That problem on the docking ring just got more problematic.=/\=


Blakus had begun to return to the Raven with the meagre possessions he'd taken to his SB quarters after the return from the mission to the Shon'ni Empire. It was nearing 1600 hours, the official recall would go out in a moment. As he began to direct steps finally towards the Raven itself (now within about 300 metres of the vessel), he registered some disturbance behind him.

He turned casually - at first, then with alarm - to the source of the sound, to the vestibule that led into the troublesome Delta Lounge he'd reported on to Torek and Valente, the same corridor near which were the support struts he'd seen Horst Kerlin scanning three or four days ago. A veritable army of malcontents were charging through the gap towards him and the docking ring.

The pressurised sections of the dock were filled with the maddened cries of civilians flying towards the docking ports of the two cargo ships that'd arrived this morning. Blindly - before allowing his ingrained and instilled calm to take over - Andae sprinted ahead of the frantic crowd towards the Raven, boarding it after passing through a line of Raven and SB47 marines and security.

"Well, I'll be glad to leave. Let the base deal with it," he murmured to himself before silently taking it back as he exited the vestibule into a Raven corridor.

[Nia Lemond]

Office of Vice Admiral Nia Lemond
Director of Intelligence ::

"I still recommend we close all four of the Observation Lounges on the Docking Ring," Matt Reynolds repeated.

"It is an option one to us," Gheskori replied.

"There's a 'lot' of real estate to police down there... With all four lounges open, we're looking at over three kilometres around the circumference of the Dome, even with the windows polarised, they are well aware that there are two Starships docked at the Delta Arm. I suggest we at least close Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Lounges, there's nothing beyond the windows for them to see, or imagine, other than maintenance craft and runabouts, anyone who wants a decades-long trip to Earth in one of those is more than welcome in my opinion,"

"Thank you, Admiral, I believe that would be a prudent measure, please see to it," Gheskori said with a smile.

"My only worry is that if we close 'all' the Lounges, the trouble will move into the Starbase itself, where it could be much more difficult to control?" Torek commented.

"At least on the Docking Ring, we could gas the lot of them into unconsciousness without affecting the rest of the populace," Nia said, the sarcasm obvious.

"How are we doing in identifying who hacked into the Information boards?" Gheskori asked the Intelligence Director.

"Our technical people are still working on it, but it looks like it may be impossible to say with any surety who put the messages up, the order didn't need authorisation, the Officer simply got the instruction to reactivate the boards, and carried it out .... There's no blame to apply, it was just something we simply hadn't foreseen, that however has been rectified now," she answered.

It's likely that it is a disgruntled member of Starfleet or one of the Technical Staff on the Starbase itself..." Reynolds offered, "... My money would be on an Officer, he, or she would know how to format the instruction to Command to activate the screens, they would then need to gain access and 'Bob' as they say, is your uncle,"

"Indeed," Gheskori replied, unfamiliar with the quote.

"Well, hindsight is a wonderful thing..." Carl said, reaching forward for the carafe to top up his coffee, "... I expect to get the Raven away in the next twelve hours, so that will be one less focal point for the protestors,"

"Good, good..." the Section Admiral replied, "... We are still keeping the observation windows polarised are we not?"

"Yes, even if these people do get into Delta Lounge, there's nothing for them to see unless they are obsessed with frosted glass," Reynolds confirmed. Carl couldn't help grin at the comment.

"Very well, I believe we can adjourn Gentlemen," the Section Admiral said, rising before heading back to his own office.

Level 1686 ...
Cargo Bay 26 ::


Patrick Rysdale, an Environmental Technician, and one of the so-called 'Ringleaders' of the malcontents, was sat at one of the Maintenance consoles when Garcia entered: He looked over the man's shoulder at the schematic, which showed the four massive Observation Lounges that circumnavigated the three-kilometre plus length of the inner core of the Starbase, their panoramic windows looking out onto one of the four enormous arms that stretched into the Dome, each able to accommodate two Starships plus a myriad of smaller craft. Three of those sections, Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Lounges, were now blocked in red, signifying they were completely off-limits to all but those with clearance.

"They have sealed off all access, turbo-lifts are closed down apart from the Service 'lifts, not that it makes a difference, they would no doubt let us down there then seal us in," the man said with a shrug ad he shut off the screen.

"Putting the ship's information on the screens really riled Command," he said.

"Yeh, at least for a short while..." Garcia replied, "... They're no doubt trying to trace where the information originated,"

"Will they?"

"No... And even if they do, what can they say? .... Nothing leads back to us, so they'll run around like proverbial 'headless chickens' for a while, then realise their search came to nothing," the Logistics Officer said.

"When's the next meeting?" Rysdale asked, feeling his annoyance with the cocky Starfleet Officer rising once again.

"Twenty-Two hundred, back here,"

"Fine," the Technician replied, heading for the doors.

"Hold on, I'll jump in the turbo-lift with you," Pablo said with an annoying grin ..........

[Nia Lemond]

SD: 2406.1211 .. 18:30 hrs ...
Conference Room Three
Mezzanine Level
Command Center ::

Nia was sat wondering vaguely how long it would take to process her resignation if she were to file it immediately .....

The room was a cacophony of argumentative 'Representatives' from various Federation Worlds, all of which wanted their say, over the voices of the other present ..... For the last fifteen minutes, the Klingon, Romulan, and Ferengi Representatives had been discussing their 'rights' in regards to exploration stemming from Starbase Forty-Seven's new location. Lemond was silently cursing the Section Admiral, who had clearly played the 'Rank' card, to get out of chairing the meeting, and while she didn't want him harmed, well, not too much, she pondered the thought of his suddenly tripping, maybe resulting in a broken ankle?

"Serve him right..." she muttered.

She was brought out of her revere by the Klingon Diplomat, Ch'Lor, when he slammed his fist into the highly polished surface of the table!

"Please excuse us if we are disturbing your rest, Admiral," the man said, the scorn in his voice obvious.

"My apologies Sir... Please, continue," Nia said, self-consciously sitting straight.

"..... As I was saying, before rudely waking you ..... 'WE' the Klingon empire demand full access to the as yet unexplored region of Federation Space which borders our Empire,"

"UNACCEPTABLE!" the Romulan Representative barked, rising to his feet. the two glared at each other across the table and Nia Lemond found herself closing her eyes once again, at least until she felt a subtle tap on her shoulder from her Adjutant seated behind her ...... They had been around the table for almost five hours now, and apart from varifying to all parties that the Starbase was indeed stationary, they had got nothing else done. Even Rear Admiral Kletchley, normally one of the most patient people Nia knew, had practically rote the meeting off.

"We, the FERENGI ALLIANCE, are by far the best to negotiate on behalf of the Federation..." Plek said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he grinned at Lemond.

"..... Oh for a tall glass of Romulan ale ....." she muttered. Alas, the Ferengi heard her comment all too well:

"Once again 'HUMAAAAN' you side with the warlike ROMULAN's... This will be reported to our Representatives on Earth!" Nia managed to stop the Romulan Representative snatching the Ferengi across the table and no doubt doing him harm.

"It is clear we are getting nowhere..." Nia finally said during a momentary lull in the shouting, "... I propose we contact our respective governing bodies and see if a solution cannot be found in the Council Chambers on Earth,"

"Is it not correct that despite our protestations, you have dispatched Fleet Admiral Torek and the USS Raven-C to begin explorations?" Ch'Lor said darkly.

"As is our right, Sir..." Ketchley said with a disarming smile, completely ignored by the man he was addressing, "... As you yourself have pointed out, the region of space in question 'IS' Federation territory, as decreed by the Charter, and with the agreement of your own Government, am I correct, Sir?"

"That agreement was signed when this 'Facility' was over Two hundred Light-Years from its present location. We did not, nor I assume did any other signatory around the table at that time, envision you placing a STARBASE within reach!"

"With due respect, Sir... We hardly 'positioned' Starbase Forty-Seven here, unless of course, you have information to the contrary?" Kletchley queried with a smile, succeeding in only riling Ch'Lor even more, with an untranslatable series of profanities, he pushed away from the table, his chair tumbling away. He glared at those present, clearly deciding that everyone was against the Klingon Empire, then he stormed from the room!

"What is it you Human's say, Admiral, he is 'highly strung' ...." Thol, the Romulan Representative said.

"OK... It is clear we need a break, let's reconvene tomorrow at fourteen hundred hours, this room, Gentlemen," Nia stood, then waited until everyone else had followed suit. With a curt nod, she turned and left, Erin Paquin close behind with an armful of PADD's, again she found herself pondering the likelihood of one of the windows in the Conference Room shattering, the resulting decompression throwing everyone into space. No sooner had the thought passed when she realised just how often she was secretly wishing harm on people.

"I'm not cut out for all this 'Diplomatic' guff," she said as she dropped into her seat in her office ..........

[Savot]

[Starbase 47: Section Admiral Gheskori Meeting With Commander Burr]


Lt. Commander Alexi Tamarov snapped a salute to the Section Admiral as he was graciously invited to join the latter and Commander Burr's discussion. "I filled a lot of gaps in my time on the El Salvador, sir, so wherever you need an extra hand just give the word. Though, full disclosure: if you need emergency surgery you'll probably want to take the gamble on waiting for a medical professional. Afraid my only knowledge in that area is strictly from my Russian background: 'Before surgery, apply Vodka liberally to doctor and patient'. Figure my best use is continuing to shadow Commander Burr; I can learn a lot about how differently things work on a Station than a ship from him." And with that, Tamarov had simply sat and taken notes throughout the rest of the meeting until departing to let the SA and Burr speak awhile without his presence, returning to his duty station for the remainder of his shift.


*******************************************************************
[Starbase 47: Departure Lounge Delta]


And so it was that he was in Commander Burr's company when things laid in a course towards the proverbial fan amongst a crowd of increasingly agitated starbase tenants. =/\=Section Admiral's office, this is Burr. I hope Admiral Reynolds is aware of this. That problem on the docking ring just got more problematic.=/\=


Tamarov narrowed his eyes, frowning, mind working to assess the tactical situation, the waves and eddies of the emotional tide seeing where the focal points were, where the dam might break if properly cracked. Giving Burr a nod, Tamarov merely mouthed the words, "Trust me", without vocalizing them, and subtly tapped the controls on his phaser to set it to full power as he rather slowly glided his way through the crowd, not taking the most direct path or pushing past anyone so as not to break the crowd's focus on the speaker.  Upon getting close enough to the front that he had clear line-of-sight without endangering any of the gathered civilians, Alexi waited until Szabo wasn't leaning any of his weight on the makeshift podium to draw his phaser and disintegrate said podium without preamble.


Before lips had even closed around the cessation of the first shocked gasps, Tamarov strode forward, holding his weapon hand up high so people could see him rotate the weapon so that the discharge was aimed at himself, then brought that hand down while his other gripped and turned Szabo's hand palm up so the phaser landed with a heavy *smack* in the protester's hand.  "You think the personnel of this Section have failed you?  Every one of them is right here in the same position with you.  Because of a tragedy.  A tragedy that ended the lives of countless beings that... no, wait... they're not countless.  Each and every one of them are counted and named on the Station's central memorial wall.  And NONE of them will ever see their homes, their families again."


Turning to face the crowd, seemingly ignoring the man who now held the capacity to disintegrate Tamarov with his own phaser should he so choose, Alexi continued, "And I know that I, and all of you as well, if we could bring those people back by doing nothing more taxing than waiting, taking no action whatever, and in so doing have all those dead standing alive among us here and now... there would be no question.  No hesitation nor protest.  You would happily embrace that task and feel not a shred of resentment for it!"


"You say the Federation has abandoned you so as not to upset the house-of-cards utopia... and you know what?  That's really pretty accurate.  The universe is divided amongst powers, those powers are represented by beings, and those beings, good or bad, ALL have agendas.  It is impossible to know with certainty 100% of the ramifications of the slightest action, let alone larger one.  We have landed somewhere that we weren't invited; that wasn't relayed in advance to our neighboring powers, and that makes them nervous.  It makes our side nervous, wondering how they'll react.  Is it stupid?  Yes.  Entirely.  But that's life.  If we make too many people, too nervous, too fast... someone gets twitchy, sends a show of force so they don't appear weak, that force's commander has a bad day, has just lost a family member to sickness, who knows?  And they mistake something innocent for a show of aggression.  They give ONE order, ONE person on their ship presses ONE button... and we could be at war for years."


"The worlds you are so anxious to see again, the families that your eyes physically ache to see again, could all be gone in one...", Tamarov snapped his fingers in the silence of his pause, "...instant.  And after that.  When they're gone, lives, worlds that can never be replaced... if someone offered to bring them back... told you all you had to do was wait.  Just wait.  And those lost lives would be returned... you'd wait.  We all would.  But once they're gone, there's no one to make that offer, no one who can bring back the dead.  The only chance for us to take that deal is now.  We wait, now, and we prevent strain on the house of cards that could end everything we love.  ALL of you, will get the chance to go home, and if you took the time to think about it, you'd be surprised how many of the crew of the Station and the ships outside have forgone their clearances to go home, in order to bring about your opportunities more swiftly."


Tamarov then turned, addressing Szabo directly, "So if you really think we're enemies... take your shot.  Take me out to show you mean business... or you hand me back that phaser, to show that you mean well.  You want us to be in this with you?  You want not to feel like you've been cast aside and forgotten?  Then show everyone that we are together.  That we all faced this disaster, and for better or worse, will ride out the aftershocks together as well."  Tamarov didn't spread his arms, but held his hands out palms toward Szabo in total vulnerability, awaiting the decision.  Of course it would be less impressive a display if Szabo chose to fire, as Tamarov's phaser was DNA-coded not to function in anyone else's hands... but he felt curiously good about how he'd addressed the crowd, and if things did turn south then at least he'd bought time for a security team response by taking the wind out of the group's sails temporarily.

[Nia Lemond]

Vice Admiral Nia Lemond's Office ...
Mezzanine Level
Command Center ::

Nia's office door was open as always, she detested the idea that someone had to wait to be permitted entry like some naughty schoolboy awaiting the Headmasters wrath. She much preferred her 'open door' policy, and everyone knew that if the door was closed it was closed for a good reason ..... She was working with her Adjutant on the seemingly endless pile of reports awaiting her attention when Commander Helgesen, the Starbase Chief of Operations entered, pausing in the doorway for a second before approaching not the Admiral's desk, but the large viewscreen on the opposite wall:

"You might want to see this, Admiral," Erik suggested, activating the screen.

"Isn't that Delta Lounge on the Docking Levels?" Erin Paquin queried.

"It is ....." they watched a large group of people, seemingly milling around in conversation. Helgesen requested a new time index and Nia leaned forward in anticipation. They watched as someone was clearly agitating the crowd, Nia asked for audio and was shocked at the shouting and clear unrest, but she was about to give orders for the Lounge to be forcibly cleared when she witnessed the discharge of a phaser! ..... The gathering fell silent as a podium, presumably set up to allow speakers to be both seen 'and' heard, disintegrated into so much particle-sized debris, dissipating as quickly as it was created.

She watched in shock as the man who had fired proceeded to hand his weapon over to the speaker, then he had turned to address the crowd himself. After several moments it was clear that whatever he was telling them was working, at least in the short term. The gathering seemed to break up into smaller groups once the man identified as Lieutenant Commander Tamarov finished his oration.

"Would anyone like to explain why the Commander is roaming the corridors with a phaser?" Nia asked.

"He is authorised to carry the weapon, Admiral..." Helgesen confirmed, "... Though I have to admit, he must have been very sure of himself to hand the phaser over to the man he had almost vaporised moments earlier,"

"It'll have to be coded, there's no way anyone would be that nieve..." Erin said, shaking her head, "... He needs telling his actions, while effective, were nonetheless bordering on the lunatic!"

"Isn't the Commander assigned to El Salvador?" Nia queried.

"I believe so, though he has been helping out with numerous duties throughout the Starbase since our relocation," Helgesen confirmed.

"OK, Erin, ask Commodore Savot to speak with the inventive Commander, let's see what he has to say ..... I'm assuming there were no further weapons violations? she asked wryly.

"No, Admiral," Erik confirmed deactivating the viewscreen before leaving the two alone to their work once again .....

Delta Lounge ...
Level Two Zero One
Docking Levels ::

Well, that's one way to get attention," Horst Kerlin said to the other two watching proceedings from the rear of the Lounge.

"Who is he?" Arya Faranov asked as the man moved through the gathering towards the bank of turbo-lifts.

"I don't know," Kerlin replied, but Pablo Garcia thought he'd seen the man on the Promenade, not in Civilian garb as he was now, but in a Starfleet uniform. He informed Arya of his thoughts:

"You think this could just be another one of the Federations' tactics to dissolve our rebellious gathering?"

"Well, I seriously doubt he risked coming down here of his own accord..." Horst said, shaking his head, "... You have to congratulate Szabo on his self-control, others might have taken the opportunity to remove the person who clearly upstaged them out of hand, rather than simply hold the man's weapon while he got his point across,"

"Hmmmm," Arya said as she watched Tamarov step into the turbolift and out of sight ..........

[Sean O'Toole]

Level One One Four Three ...
Science Laboratory - 21:00 hrs ::

Sean entered the officially sealed Science Lab with Kara, his Bar Manager, he had been 'summoned' here by the Director of Intelligence, much against his will ..... In the dimly-lit lab, he could see several figures so walked towards them, hearing the door seal behind them. Along with the new arrivals were several Starfleet Officers:

Vice Admiral Lemond.
Rear Admiral Reynolds.
Commander Burr.
Lt. Commander Tamarov ...

Sean looked at the group, he wasn't familiar with Tamarov, but knew Burr from his previous incarceration, he smiled, resisting the sudden urge to laugh, alas, Kara was less restrained:

"Hmm, very 'hush-hush' ....." she said, clearly unimpressed.

"Why are we here, Admiral?" Sean asked Lemond.

"Take a seat, both of you, we have a proposal, we would like to put to you," Reluctantly, Sean and Kara took the only other seats visible and waited.

"You are well aware of the trouble we have been having with the discordant element forming on the Starbase. Small groups of people opposed to our situation, or rather 'their' situations as the case may be..." Nia began, looking at the others gathered before continuing, "... We have discussed options and despite Commander Tamarov's fortuitous distilling of the issues in Delta Lounge a few days ago, it is clear there is a small element who are 'coaxing' or maybe a more appropriate description would be that they are 'goading' normally ignorable malcontents, into organised groups willing to do more than simply bemoan their supposed sorry lot,"

"What the Admiral is saying, is that a small group are beginning to raise the stakes, so to speak," Burr unnecessarily explained.

"Is that so?" Sean asked, his sarcasm obvious.

"Mister O'Toole, we would like to enlist your, assistance, in identifying the 'ringleaders' I believe you call them," Commodore Savot commented.

"This is a very 'diverse' gathering isn't it just..." the Irishman said with a wry grin, "... Mind telling me how you came to choose this delegation, and why we're here in the semi-darkness like a group discussing the Gunpowder Plot?"

"Gunpowder?" Savot said, admittedly confused.

"Never mind Commodore..." Sean said, old Earth history, "... So, I'll ask again, wh are my Manager and myself here, not to confirm your suspicions about a few troublemakers I'm sure?"

"As the Commodore stated, we would like your help," Lemond replied.

"..... And just how, might I be askin' do you think we could be of assistance?" Kara asked. The others remained silent for a long moment before Nia began to clarify:

"We want you to let it be known that you too are dissatisfied with the proverbial 'status quo' and are willing to aide the malcontents in their 'nefarious' efforts to undermine Starfleet,"

"Come again?..." Sean asked, holding back a laugh, "... I own and run an Irish bar, serve excellent drinks, excellent food, and some surprisingly excellent music, I'm no 'nosey-parker' skulking around listening in on conversa ....."

"You've been very lucky since coming aboard the Starbase, Mister O'Toole ..... Over time you have acquired the establishments either side of your 'bar' and have expanded, not to mention the properties directly above the bar you use for brewing..." Burr said, leaning forward as if trying to ensure only the Irishman was privy to his comments, "... You must have had a lot of friends to allow you so much real estate to expand, maybe we should review your tenancies, with a view to redistribution of shop space?"

Sean had no way of knowing if Burr or Tamarov knew anything about his previous association with Starfleet Intelligence, but he knew he wasn't about to be threatened, by anyone. He leaned forward, using a finger to coax Burr closer. Once he was in arms reach Sean snatched the man's tunic then stood, dragging the unready Commander to his feet!

"Let's get something straight here before there are any 'serious' misunderstandings shall we..." Sean said darkly, ignoring the fact that Reynolds and Tamarov had both got to their feet, "... My family have owned bars for well over three hundred years, from the first little hostelry in Ireland, through countless wars and senseless disagreements, and never once have we bowed-down to some snivelling sceithire to threaten us, so catch yourself on mister, and rethink your next words very carefully, I'd hate for you to succumb to some unfortunate accident,"

"Sean ....." Nia said quietly, waiting for the bar owner to release his grip on Gheskori's Aide.

"You will come to regret that," Burr whispered unconvincingly as he dragged his tunic down and reseated himself, glaring at O'Toole as Kara smiled sweetly at the shaken Officer.

"Sean, you have two private function rooms, as well as your offices..." Lemond was careful about what she said, purposely not speaking about the covert surveillance and communications equipment installed by Intelligence, knowing that neither Burr nor Tamarov knew there was anything more to the bar than could be seen, one very large establishment, presumably with a storeroom at the rear, that catered for all, including a play area for children and a large stage, "... We would just like you 'not' to discourage any further gatherings, maybe even 'hint' that they take their discussions into one of the private rooms, where they wouldn't be overheard by anyone listening in either intentionally or otherwise?" Nia finished, and after a long moment of silence Sean stood, Kara, doing likewise:

"I'll give it some thought, Admiral," he said with a slight bow before turning away.

"Don't take too long," Burr said, realising instantly that he'd made a mistake as O'Toole turned back on himself and slowly approached the Aide.

"Admiral Lemond, Admiral Reynolds .... I'll be cordially suggesting, that you make every effort to keep this man out of my way..." he said, looking directly at Burr, then, "... Don't ever try to threaten me again," he finished, then turned away and walked towards the doors which slid aside to allow them to leave. In the lab Burr stood, beginning a litany of things he planned to do to O'Toole, but Nia shut him down, making it perfectly clear that should he take 'ANY' action against Sean or the Bar, he would be conduit-scrubbing for the rest of his life, or worse still, might find himself repainting the communication antenna in an EVA suit until his heart finally gave out and he drifted off into the unknown! ..... Reluctantly, Burr confirmed, albeit unhappily, he would follow orders.

In the turbo-lift Kara turned to Sean:

"You going to play at being a spy then?" she asked with a wry grin ..........

[Gheskori]

SA's office, Starbase 47

At mid-morning, Ghes was in his office surveying the ongoing situation on the docking ring: three of the four lounges had been closed, and the windows of Delta Lounge had been rendered opaque, blocking view of the distant El Salvador and Enzio in their berths on the docking arm extended from the area of Beta Lounge.

He turned from observing the plan-view of the dock displayed on the wall as a chime came at the door, an ensign was admitted and introduced Ghes to his reason for coming. "Ah yes, the business in the science lab. How did it go?" The ensign took a moment to gather himself and gave a brief report. "What?" Ghes was on his feet, rounding his desk and beginning to pace back and forth the office. After some time of disordered thinking, he began to think he was glad Sean O'Toole had at least said he'd consider the offer; as far as operations against what was possibly a new, and well organised group of dissidents went it was an excellent development, but he had a problem, with detail and method.

In a way it wasn't totally his concern: this endeavour had been made on Lemond's initiative, Ghes had had little to do with it except to give his official approval - it was why he'd sent Burr (and incidentally the shadowing Tamarov) to that meeting, - but he didn't approve of threats issued to his ADC, by either O'Toole or indeed the Intelligence Director. Burr was on his way back now, the ensign had told him; yes, it was time to sort this out... But he caught himself, stopped pacing and returned with a huff to his desk chair.

The ensign cleared his throat, "Beg your pardon, Section Admiral, may I take my leave?"

Ghes glanced up distractedly, irked, "Yes. Yes, young man. Thank you for your report." The ensign nodded and left.

Some minutes after Burr's arrival, Ghes called him before him and invited him to sit, "I understand the Intelligence meeting with O'Toole and his partner was not without its problems," he said eventually, innocently scanning through PADDs. "You had an argument with Lemond's prospective employee, John?"

"I provoked him, I admit it," Burr nodded, "I was out of line. But I didn't set out to start a fight. He deadly threatened me, he virtually attacked me, Admiral. And then, after he'd left, when I made my thoughts known to Admiral Lemond, she took her turn! and suggested if I took action against O'Toole I'd be placed in an EVA suit and left to suffocate. Yes, it was probably hyperbole, but..." he looked at Ghes searchingly as the Admiral began to react.

Ghes had put his current PADD down and sighed deeply, sitting back and allowing his mind to slip into a meditative poise, "Ah, this business... this forced relocation - to the Klingon border - has overtaxed all of us, not just malcontents like that fellow Szabo, but civilians and Starfleet alike. We are all in need of a little more... I don't know, sensitivity.

"You are correct, Commander, you shouldn't be subjected to threats, yet nor should you make them yourself. As my aide, you report directly to me, and what you do reflects upon me and my office. Now on the other hand, you're under my protection and authority. The Intelligence Director can only pull rank on you; you're not under her personal charge, are not directly answerable to her, and shouldn't accordingly be the subject of threats by her."

He was in a manner wasting his breath, as Burr knew all this, although something nagged at Ghes's mind that this was a potential conflict of interest, as Burr's telling-off had resulted from an action taken in what'd been officially designated a Starfleet Intelligence meeting. He did also wonder whether his own annoyance, in defence of Burr, didn't derive more from Burr's recent suicide attempt; he felt the need to protect him, particularly considering the language O'Toole had reportedly used against his aide.

"Thank you, Admiral. And I admit my fault in the matter and fully apologise." But Burr's seeming replaying of the incident in his mind began to infuriate him again, "A civilian, a pub owner, lays hands on me, and I get chewed out by the Intelligence Director?! Gheskori, I think Mr O'Toole is quite unsuita- "

"No, no, John, we can't start putting ourselves above the civilian populace like that, can't start claiming moral superiority just because we wear the uniform. I'll speak to Admiral Lemond."

Burr asked what he was going to say.

"I'm going to tell her she has the full support of the Section Admiral's office for her operation, of course; concerning the use of Sean O'Toole, and the wider investigation into the new sources of discontent. I'll refer to you only briefly, in terms of you being the personal aide to the Section Admiral, she will perhaps take the point that any castigation should come from the office in which we're sitting. I hope that satisfies you, John. Now, on with your duties."

Ghes returned to his PADDs and commed V'Maz on the Enzio, =/\=Commander, how ready are we for warp trials of the new coils?=/\= About half of the warp coils of each nacelle had been replaced since the Enzio returned from its efforts to establish effective subspace comms with the wider quadrant.

=/\=Almost exactly two days before full readiness, Admiral. The dockmaster has given us clearance that - if we wish - the trials around the Starbase's vicinity can be scheduled to begin the following day.=/\=

[Sean O'Toole]

O'Toole's Bar & Grill ...
Alpha Promenade
Level One Five Five One ::

Sean was in the storeroom when Kara informed him that there was a woman in his office waiting to see him .....

"Good afternoon..." he said as he entered, seeing the woman sat at his desk, "... Anything I can be helpin' you with, Commander?" Erin Paquin, dressed in civilian clothes, got up and walked around the desk.

"It seems you are due for a slap on the wrists," she said.

"Is that so?" Sean replied, dropping into his recently vacated chair.

"Yes, you somewhat upset Commander Burr,"

"Ahh, I wondered when someone would come knocking, so to speak... I was a little out of order speaking to him as I did, but I don't like threats," Sean replied. Erin nodded, but he knew she had more to say on the matter.

"No doubt Admiral Lemond, or the Section Admiral will want a word, I can't see the issue ....."

"Let's get something straight here shall we..." Sean interrupted, "... I'm not Starfleet, nor, despite my former allegiances, am I part of the Intelligence community. I'm a civilian who is trying to make a living on Starbase Forty-Seven, nothing more, nothing less, and to be clear, I won't be enjoying anyone coming into my establishment to lay down the law, is that clear?"

"Perfectly ..... It still won't stop one of them having a word in your ear Saen, you know that all too well..." Erin said, shaking her head, "... Well, to the reason for my visit. Do you have anything more on our little group of rebels?"

"I've been keeping a wary eye on our bunch as requested. Alas, they are keeping their conversations quiet, so I've had no reason to play the host and offer them a 'private' room for their little get-togethers. There's something else too..." he said, seemingly pondering how to proceed for a moment, "... They met with someone else, not one of the original group. I wasn't here but Kara said a civilian approached Garcia two days ago. They left the bar together, Garcia returning about five minutes later. From then on I've heard nothing of their conversations ....."

Sean got up and walked over to a small cabinet, he sifted around through various item's then found what he was looking for. Taking it back to his desk he placed it between the two of them: It was a cylindrical object, brushed silver with a band of gold around the upper rim, approximately six centimetres in diameter, two centimetres in height, and featureless.

"Any idea what this is?" he asked, leaning back. Erin picked up the object, turning it over in her hand before placing it back on the desk with a shrug.

"Paperweight?" she asked, the sarcasm obvious.

"It's a suppressor device..." he said, lifting the object up before turning the gold rim clockwise a few degrees then put it back between them, "Get yourself out of that seat and go stand by the door," he instructed. Erin, still confused, did as requested then waited. It was then she realised Sean was 'still' speaking to her. Frowning she began to return to the desk, finally hearing him as she retook her seat opposite him, "Clever little device, isn't it," he finished with a grin before taking the cylinder and restoring the original position of the gold ring. As he placed it back on the desk Erin quickly took it, again she turned it over, unable to see any markings.

"Handy little gadget," she said neutrally.

"It's not Federation in origin..." Sean said, holding out his hand, waiting while Erin presumably weighed up her options, clearly wanting to take it up to Admiral Lemond, but finally she handed it over, "... This one is mine, and no, I'm not about to tell you how 'I' acquired it. Your problem is the fact that the dissidents have one of these," he got up, returning the device to the cabinet.

"It can suppress audio and visual up to five metres from it, or just cover the people within a meter or so, using some kind of sub-harmonic residence field I think. It also prevents any surveillance in the area of the device. He moved to the screen on the wall and brought up the recordings for the booth the group were sat in. You can see them sit down and order drinks, he watched Lemond's Adjutant seeing if she noticed anything, happy that she did.

"They are talking but ....." she said, standing to move closer to the screen.

"Yes, they chatted amiably while discussing drinks, you can see Garcia take the cylinder fro his jacket and place it on the table. You can even hear Orla saying have a good evening, then nothing from them up to them leaving the booth,"

"We need to show that to Admiral Lemond, maybe the Section Admiral and Admiral Reynolds too," Erin said with a sense of urgency.

"I'd expect so," Sean said with a shrug.

"You said it wasn't Federation technology... So where does it come from?"

"Well, that little trinket was acquired for me by someone on Romulus, whether or not they developed it I can't say for sure," O'Toole said truthfully.

"Can it be counteracted?"

"Wouldn't be knowing, possibly I suppose..." Sean said, "... But I sat here for thirty minutes trying to get the frequency, but I had no luck, even Irish luck, and before you ask, I'm not going to be mine handing over to be sliced and diced for information anytime soon, so don't be askin', we'll have to find another way of counteracting the field." he replied with a wry grin. For a moment Erin remained silent, then finally she stood and headed for the door:

"I assume Admiral Lemond will be in touch ..... She'll want a look at that thing,"

"I'll make sure there's a drink ready tell her, and in regards to my forthcoming 'slap on the wrist' tell her I was out of order, but I'm not about to go kowtowing, or 'doffing my cap' to someone who threatens me or my livelihood,"

"You have a cap?" Erin said with a grin before leaving Sean's office ..........

[Savot]

[El Salvador: Past Several Weeks]


With the departure of the Vice President and the establishment of regular incoming and outgoing contact with the rest of the Federation bringing some slight stability to Starbase 47's unusual circumstances, and in the aftermath of having been rendered entirely helpless via intrusive computer code generated from within the archive data the El Salvador had retrieved from the Research Station they'd discovered at the center of an artificially generated time-dilation field amidst a horde of ancient, now-malfunctioning, mines... Commander Delbridge in his capacity as the current Chief Engineer of the still relatively new Excalibur-class vessel reluctantly advised a complete reformatting of the starship's computer cores in order to fully eliminate the potential for future sabotage of the same nature.


Commodore Savot and First Officer Deis Irae had agreed with the rationale, no one aboard having been comfortable when the ship was rendered helpless mere moments before the Section 47 survivors made their return jaunt through the wormhole, and the herculean efforts needed to prepare a starship for total computer overhaul got underway. All personnel were temporarily grouped together onto as few decks as possible, so those decks' Life Support systems could be run isolated from the ship's computers, engineering teams were outfitted with portable power sources so they could locally power any workstations they needed to use while the main computer's databanks were being reconstructed, and all Shuttlecraft computers were locked from remotely communicating with the El Salvador's computers so their systems could be reformatted with the same totality, albeit on a much smaller scale than their 'mother' vessel.


Due to the life support and power preparations, Savot had invited Commander Irae to share the hospitality of his quarters while her own were shut down for the duration, “Purely in the name of efficiency of course. It would be a detestable abuse of authority for me to orchestrate a starship's shutdown for the sole purpose of increasing my physical proximity to you”, the vulcan Commodore had explained guilelessly.


The preparatory stage getting the ship ready to be as functional as possible during the absence of its computer cores, was full of activity, and the final stage of running performance tests of all ship's systems following the computer's data reconstruction was naturally bustling as well. The period in between; however, in which the computer's data was sifted to ensure non-compromised status before being archived for re-installation once the core was finished purging, the data banks emptied and then double-checked to ensure no fragments of code whatsoever remained, then waiting for the archived backups to be re-installed and synched together... was a long span of very little to do for most of the crew.


It was during this lull that Savot had made a rare trip aboard Starbase 47 itself to hand-deliver an update report on the El Salvador's status and projections for her various stages of readiness leading up to her being declared fully operational and her systems reliability fully restored. While on the station, Savot had taken the opportunity to meet with Lieutenant Commander Alexi Tamarov, a member of the El Sal's crew until just prior to the Section's return to Beta Quadrant territory, to inquire after the incident he'd been told of regarding Tamarov's seemingly reckless addressing of a group of civilians apparently approaching riotus intent due to their agitation at being stuck aboard the starbase for an indeterminate amount of additional time instead of being immediately permitted to return to the homes they had thought they may never be able to return to in their lifetimes.


<To Be Continued:  Apologies for my holiday silence!>

[Sean O'Toole]

Vice Admiral Lemonds Office
Mezzanine Level
Command Center ::

Seemingly hours ago, Sean had handed an isolinear chip to Erin Paquin, Nia's Adjutant, she had checked the contents then began a replay of the numerous recordings made by Sean over the last month .....

"And they are all like this?" Lemond asked, finishing her second cup of coffee.

"I'm afraid so..." O'Toole replied, handing his empty cup to Erin, "... When I did finally 'persuade' them to use one of the back rooms for their discussions, it was pretty much all talk. Oh they planned, schemed, even thought about bringing in outside help to their little band, but alas, all they did was chatter about what 'could' be,"

"I don't understand it, wasn't Arya Faranov following in her cousins' footsteps?"

"Yes, and to be sure she was doing just that for a while, but her outlook seemed to change after the disturbances on the docking ring. As far as I'm aware she didn't even go to see Yelana before she was taken aboard the USS Greensborough last week to be taken back to Earth to stand trial along with her minions," Sean said with a wry shrug.

"So you are convinced that the disturbances will cease now no-one is inciting them?" Nia asked, accepting the third cup of coffee from her Adjutant.

"Well now I can't be sayin' as much, but I'd say we were over the hill on the trouble front. I imagine there are still those that won't agree with the regulations for returning to whatever home they came from, but it looks like those who are unhappy with the status quo are biting their tongues and waiting their turn,"

"We've been keeping the others under constant surveillance as you know..." Erin said, muting the recordings made at O'Tooles, "... The Civilians, Szabo and Rysdale seem to have settled back into their routines, Kerlin likewise. Lieutenant Garcia too seems to have given up any thoughts of insurgence or damage to the Starbase. They will remain under observation, for the time being, just to ensure they are not trying to pull the proverbial wool over our eyes,"

"What about those loyal to Serova?" Sean asked.

"Well, as we said, they seem to have given up. Their whole fight was against the Federation, who they blamed for our ending up in the αCen Star System..." Nia replied, picking up one of the myriads of PADD's cluttering her normally immaculate desk, "... Serova seemed to be the one holding them together, she was managing to get brief messages out, even from solitary, heaven knows how she managed it to be honest. But our arrival in the Beta quadrant, along with her and her leaderships' removal from the Starbase, seems to have withered the dissidents resolve somewhat. Oh, we still have the odd bit of rebellion, but nothing Security can't handle,"

"We have returned the Intelligence Personnel back to duty, so Admiral Reynolds is continuing to keep an eye on the few that still think they have something to fight for, or against, who knows," Commander Paquin added.

"So we're done here then Admiral?" Sean said, rising from his seat.

"We are Mister O'Toole..." Nia said, rising also, before shaking Sean's hand. As he reached the door she spoke again, "That 'surveillance' equipment you have scattered around your establishment?" she asked.

"Now... Just what surveillance equipment would that be Lady?" the Irishman asked with a grin before leaving her office to return to his bar ..........

[Nia Lemond]

Starbase Forty-Seven
Adjacent Yathoo Star System
Beta Quadrant
SD: 2406.0322 ::


Over the last few months, a lot had changed on the Starbase ..... With regular arrivals from Earth and other Federation Planets, the Starbase had adopted something approaching normality only seen prior to the Betreka Nebula explosion and their journey into unknown space.

With the return to Earth of the leaders of the two dissident factions: Yelana Serova, and then her cousin, Arya Faranov, along with those deemed to be in their upper echelons, there had been little or no discontent witnessed. Yes, there were issues with traders not receiving stock, threats of reprisals if replicators were not repaired, along with a myriad of other minor complaints hardly worthy of investigation. There were still questions being asked about returning the Starbase back to its previous location at some point in the future, but the general consensus was that as long as Starships were taking people home, then it was hardly a priority.

Things had changed on Earth too ..... Federation President, Ra-ghorannii, had won a second term in office, alas his Vice President didn't fare as well, losing spectacularly following his outspoken comments on Starbase Forty-Seven, and the Command structure therein. He was rapidly replaced by a former High Ambassador, Sabine Laterza, who having returned from concluding a dispute in the Di'Trinos Sector, was humbled at her appointment. One of her first duties would be to visit the Starbase in person 'Formare la mia opinione' or 'form her own opinion' as she always said.

Intelligence has been sending out personnel to reconnoitre local Stars, log any issues or make recommendations for further investigation, but so far there seems nothing to raise any immediate alarms ..... The Klingons, Romulans, Ferengi, to name but a few, have all made demands, some workable, some completely outrageous, but this is normal for day-to-day dealings aboard a Starbase, so Section Admiral Gheskori nearly added their 'gripes' to his weekly reports then promptly forgot about them, as it seems did the other Senior Staff.

The Starbase was informed of the arrival within the week, of the newly appointed Federation Vice President, so for the last few days a serious amount of 'sprucing up' was being done throughout the unrestricted or sealed Levels .......

"You met her once before didn't you?" Nia asked Gheskori while there were stood waiting for the Federation Flagship to dock.

"No, I was supposed to be at a reception she was attending but I was called away," the Section Admiral replied, pulling at his dress tunic.

"I met her..." Rear Admiral Niles Kletchley, Starbase Forty-Sevens Diplomatic Liason Officer commented dryly, "... She had been involved with the Diplomatic corps for almost thirty-five years before being appointed a High Ambassador. She's not one for formality either, hates all the so-called 'pomp and circumstance' that goes with Federation functions. She got up and left one function, saying the Ferengi Diplomat had bored her almost to death, needless to say, the Ferengi weren't too happy. Her age never get's in her way either, she will stand toe-to-toe with anyone, anywhere to get her opinion heard. But again, she is respected throughout the Federation,"

Nia stood with her Adjutant, Commander Erin Paquin among the small group waiting to welcome the new Vice President. To here Kletckley talk she half expected the woman to step from the airlock in jodhpurs, knee-length boot, and a riding crop .....

"You toned down the reception I hope?" Nia whispered.

Erin nodded as a Lieutenant began piping the Vice President aboard ..........

[Savot]

[El Salvador: Starbase 47]


The crew had adapted quite quickly and with little irritation to the extreme measures that had needed to be taken during the computer core purging and reformatting. It seemed that severe conditions could be handled with significant tolerance while secure in the knowledge that at least they had all returned to their home space, more or less. Additional burden was taken off the portable life-support systems by assigning junior officers command of a Training Group of personnel that boarded Starbase 47 to make use of one of their holodecks for training in various environments the holo-projectors were easily able to simulate. Honestly, the odd life changes necessitated by the computer reformat had come at a useful time to distract the crew’s minds from their understandable, and intensifying, desires to at least temporarily depart to visit their families now that Section 47 had returned to semi-local space.


Savot and Deis had been rooming together, while Commander Delbridge did his part for conservation by bunking with the Engineering cadets in communal barracks as a sort of den… uncle. Savot chose not to pursue the matter via questions when one evening he walked past the barracks to find Delbridge instructing the cadets on how to toast marshmallows with an intensity-modulated phaser make-shift constructed from components of a field tricorder and standard communicator badge.


When the time had come to begin restoring the computers, it was done meticulously and, by necessity, slowly 1 system at a time. Each algorithm was scanned and checked for any remnant of the coding that had originated from their alien research station data files. The original files had been stored on a fixed-access computer incapable of remote connectivity of any kind, nested inside 2 additional data drives that would serve as a defense warning if the data somehow found a method of escape though this should be impossible.


***************************************************************************

[El Salvador: Bridge, Present Time]


Commodore Savot sat in the captain’s chair, Deis and Ensign Karysta manning the Helm and Ops respectively, Ensign Zhegras manned the Bridge Engineering station to coordinate orders to and reports from Chief Engineer Delbridge down in Engineering proper. Chief Zakryn manned Tactical with his typical on-duty Gorn stoicism, though off-duty he tended towards a surprising level of socialability.


=^=Shakedown cruise commencing, Starbase 47. Beginning field testing of all systems, El Salvador out=^=, Savot reported to SB47 via comms. He then addressed Deis, “Commander Irae, take us out.”

[Nia Lemond]

Stardate: 2407.0412 ...
Starbase Forty Seven
Beta Quadrant ::


Vice President Sabiné Laterza had been on the Starbase for three weeks now - During her stay she had visited almost every level of the four-kilometre structure, stopping to speak with practically every single person she came across, from Starfleet Personnel, visiting Dignatories, Civilians, and Children of all ages, making a point to visit each of the Schools set up throughout the Starbase.

Several 'official' functions had been held, mainly to reassure the Federations neighbours that there was no cause for concern regarding the new location of the Starbase. There had also been minor disturbances, some protesting the reasoning behind keeping the Starbase in its present location rather than taking her home, but these had been largely non-violent, and had passed without incident apart from one or two arrests of over-zealous people who wanted their voice heard.

With the Vise President needed to host a Summit in the Alpha Quadrant, preparations were being made for her departure ..........

"Where are we going today?" Lemond's Adjutant, Commander Erin Paquin asked as Nia pulled on her tunic for the thousandth time as they rode the turbolift.

"She wants a last look around the Promenades before she goes," the Intelligence Director said, sensing rather than actually 'seeing' the smirk on the Security Officer accompanying them. The turbolift halted on Level Eighteen and the doors slid aside. They were confronted by two more Security, both already stepping aside to allow them egress.

Vice President Laterza was already in the corridor, Lemond knew the woman had likely been awake for hours, breakfasting in the early hours before working with her Private Secretary until they could begin their tour at a more 'reasonable' hour, as she put it. With a moment for her to speak with her own Security, they headed back to the turbolift and entered ..... The carriage dropped rapidly until slowing to a halt on Level one five five one, the Alpha Promenade.

As they stepped from the 'lift, Commander Theo Dúpin, Deputy Head of Security, and in charge until Admiral Reynolds' return from a conference on Earth, was waiting for them. He acknowledged the Vice President and begged a moment with Lemond. Excusing herself the two moved to one side, Dúpin making sure they were out of earshot before explaining:

"A body has been found," he said.

"Oh?" Lemond replied, her eyes flicking to the VP.

"A Romulan, he was killed... Whoever did so did it in a hurry, likely disturbed,"

"Has the Romulan Representative been informed?" Nia asked, silently noting the man's momentary hesitation before replying.

"No, not as yet, Ma'am..." he said, realising he needed to expand on his comment when Lemond merely waited, "... We identified him, he was formally Military, a Commander in fact. He left his position under some suspicion, but apparently, the Romulan's chose not to exert their usual stringent inflexibility on the man,"

"Hmm 'stringent inflexibility' is that your way of saying they didn't kill him outright, Commander?..." Nia asked with a wry grin, "... So what happened?"

"We don't know, one minute he was assigned to one of their newest Starships as their equivalent of a Fleet Commander, then the record is completely blank," the man said with a shrug.

"So why haven't we informed the Romulans again?"

"There were 'rumours' that the Romulan tried to defect. There's no solid evidence of this of course, but it is believed he decided to go before they helped him on his way..." Dúpin explained, "He all but disappeared for a time, then his name was connected to numerous 'pirate' actions against both Romulan and Klingon outposts. It seems he wasn't ready to 'go quietly into the night' so to speak. What little information we could get, says he was in orbit around some rock or other, flooded the ship with gas and beamed all but a few trusted personnel off, leaving them to practically choke to death. He took the ship and again vanished,"

"..... And now he's here ..... Dead," Lemond said, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, Admiral," the Security Deputy Chief confirmed needlessly.

"There are no signs of the ship he, borrowed, I suppose?" Nia asked.

"We searched his quarters, making sure to leave everything as we found it, should we eventually inform his people, we did however find an encrypted PADD, I'd like your permission to try to access the data," Nia knew full well why he was coming to her, should the proverbial 'hit the fan' he didn't want to be the one in the firing line. She couldn't blame him really, he'd worked hard to get where he was, and in the absence of his Commanding Officer, and Head of Security, she would be the one he brought anything he had suspicions about to. She waved to get her Adjutant's attention, when Erin approached she gave her a brief precis of what she had been told, clearly shocking the Deputy Chief in the process.

"Can you remain with the Vice President until she departs, I'll make some excuse for my absence?" Nia asked.

"No problem, besides, who wouldn't enjoy yet another almost thirteen-kilometre walk around the circumference of this place," Paquin said with an exaggerated sign.

"Precisely..." Nia said with a wink before approaching the VP, "... Madam Vice President, I'm afraid duty calls, there has been an incident that requires my attention. My Adjutant will accompany you on your tour if that is acceptable?"

"Yes, yes..." Laterza said, smiling at Erin before turning back to Nia, "... Nothing 'too' serious I hope, perhaps my Security can be of help?"

"No, It's just an issue that I need to attend, there is no cause for concern I assure you,"

"Very well, we shall say our goodbyes here then," the woman said, stepping forward to put both her arms around Nia, with a glance at Erin Nia did likewise, then after a moment the two separated.

"Safe journey home, Madam Vice President," Nia said.

"Please keep me informed of your progress, Admiral," the VP said, before motioning for her tour to commence ..... Nia watched the party move away then tapped the turbolift call button. As she and Commander Dúpin stepped inside she requested the Command Center, giving the appropriate access code to the Command Levels.

"Put extra Security around the VP, make them as inconspicuous as plausible but make sure no one can get near her until she's off the Starbase!" ..........

[Seth Helacaan]

On the ramshackle bridge of the Wezean ship Vengeance, the hollow-eyed man peered out the small viewing portal - in this case it was a real portal, a mere window, though fortunately of the transparent aluminium used by Federation starships... The Wezeans weren't so primitive or backwards in their thinking not to at least use the hardware that was standard throughout most of the Federation.

There was though, he'd noticed, an increasingly prevalent problem these days... Did the one inhabitable planet of the Delta Canis Majoris system - Wezea II or Ascension - consider itself part of the Federation, within its territory or not? He held to one side of the argument. Others, some more or less close to him, didn't... A different situation to what'd prevailed until just about two years ago.

And then, with the news some months ago of the return of that great spinning top of tritanium-duranium composite, Starbase 47 itself, from nearly outside the Milky Way, the question had become that more urgent, at least as regarded his own family's position. Ascension was located nowhere near Sector 47, therefore his involvement in Starfleet had been less of a problem for those on his planet who wished to remain firmly nonaligned. His assignments to the USS Nevada and USS Olympia, Section 47 starships now decommissioned, had meant the 'betrayer' Helacaan - an epithet all too true in some of the clans' view, considering the family's, some might say, controversial history - had been well away from the homeworld, unable to act as an effective go-between in drawing the Federation back into protecting the Wezeans - their own people - in their affairs.

But the reappearance of the Starbase had changed things. No longer was it well over halfway across the Federation from Ascension; its new position almost put it in a sector adjacent to that containing Ascension, the latter sector an incomplete sketch, a broken cobweb fluttering at the edge of Federation space, utterly forgotten - certain of the planet's clans wished to keep things that way.

Having begun to veer towards a pro-nonaligned stance before the Starbase's miraculous reappearance, the Helacaan clan was now in danger of tearing itself apart in factional disputes: intradynastic feuds long since buried threatened to break the cracked dry soil of Ascension and start another round of internecine warfare... All when the Wezean people's collective focus should be on staving off the encroachments of the Naal and its recouping Conglomerate of species and affiliates.

Another man entered the bridge, his gait like that of the brooding figure in the centre seat, his footsteps falling with the same regularity and timbre against the metallic grille deck. The brooding figure shifted towards him slightly, but wasn't willing to look the man, his brother, in the eye. Since their father's retirement two years ago, the other Helacaan had tried to take control of the clan and its policy, and the ex-Starfleet officer - assuming Section 47's fleet to be lost - had followed his brother's lead, the two as inseparable as ever. But Starbase 47's re-emergence - his third home (behind his homeworld) when he hadn't been on mission with the Nevada or Olympia - had changed his attitude. Now he once more wanted rapprochement with the Federation as had been the Helacaan's family's previous policy.

A proximity alert sounded on a nearby console. Growling, the brooding man rose from his chair. But he would never, could never rejoin Starfleet, not while this menace existed. "Seth..." John Helacaan began.

"I know, I see them. Two Naal destroyers. Has Bersoc got a lock on them yet?"

"Yes. Once within weapons' range they should prove no problem. Seth, ignore the Naal just for the moment... We need to talk." Seth froze, before rubbing at his dark-rimmed eyes and relaxing as he saw the absence of aggression in his brother. "We've accidentally picked up comm traffic from the direction of Starbase 47. It appears one of their most senior officers has been kidnapped."

"Accidentally? You've been spying on them. They're our friends, or should be, not -"

"Please, Seth," John put up his hands, trying to calm his irascible brother (something that Seth had apparently arrested in himself, part of an adjustment of his character, when he'd been part of Starfleet). "Not now... We were conducting full-sky recon for Naal communications and warp drive activity. We intercepted comms to and from Starbase 47, and I thought, quite simply, that given your previous connections you might've wanted to know."

The brooding man gave his brother a hard uncertain look, before casting about at the otherwise empty bridge and retaking his central chair in silence. Minutes passed as John took another station and observed as Bersoc successfully targeted the destroyers, obliterating one and disabling another. "John... would you let me see transcripts of those comms," Seth said finally.

[Sean O'Toole]

Orpk's Emporium
Beta Promenade ::


They had remained well hidden, Sean reached out to stop Carl from walking out of the shadows where he could be seen by the man holding Calli, but as the Ferengi raised the weapon he was holding, Sean was in no doubt he fully intended to hit her again, and given his obvious frustration, he wasn't likely to hold back on the blow. He stepped half a pace forward:

"Drop it, now!" he said ..... Something made him begin to reposition his gaze on something moving across the bar, a shadow within a shadow. The beam crossed the room in less than a second:


Level Fifty Six ...
Alpha Medical Center ::

Time slowed .....

He felt the beam pass through his skin, burning, burning, as millions upon millions of nociceptors fired simultaneously. He could see the beam, to him seeming almost six metres in length continuing to pass into him. Synapses, under such attack they were trying to protect their host from permanent damage as each neuron in his mind fired, and fired, like the hottest fire imaginable, each square millimetre of his skin erupted. The fire within spread across his chest, to his legs and arms, until they no longer existed for him, he had lost all control of his body now, and could only wait, preying for some merciful end to the excruciating agony spreading almost casually throughout every cell of his being. Each fraction of a second a millennia in his mind, then, three-millionths of a second later, his throat began to burn, every nerve being bombarded thousands of times a second, yet the burning climbed, increased, realms of agony surpassing anything a mind could conceive .... Now, his eyes, a myriad of colour cascaded through the retina as the eyes were bombarded with electrical discharges, the optic nerve, burning, the occipital cortex shutting down. Now he was fire, nothing more, nothing less, burning hotter than the hottest Sun, his world, his life, meaningless in the throes of what, agony, more, something ethereal. Until thankfully, his mind closed down!

Now. Aeons had passed, stars had been born, lived, died, and only now did the fire begin to subside. No longer was his mind burning as the most volatile Sun, but now something was fighting the fire, relentlessly, remorsefully, extinguishing, one nerve, one synapse, one neurotransmitter at a time. Again billions of years passed, then time began to slow, and slow until only millennia were passing as fires were quenched within his nervous system.

White, golden yellow, ambers, had been replaced by grey, darker and darker as the fires were vanquished until there was only blackness, the deepest, darkest blackness. Then ... His mind, dead, but not dead, his mind, knowing it must survive the onslaught, had protected itself. But something within that mind had realised there had been a profound change within the deepest recesses of his very being. Something had changed, in the once-unimaginable darkness, a light, like a candle flame at the end of the Universe, tens of thousands of years pasted nutil the candle reappeared, this time, brighter, more welcoming. Again his consciousness waited, all responsibility for the mind and body it occupied long since taken away, it waited, waited. Time was moving faster now, only a few thousands of years passed before the light came, then hundreds, tens, until the consciousness could almost predict when the candle was going to appear.

This time, the consciousness was prepared, it would not let the light retreat into the blackness, it would hold it in place!

"DOCTOR ..... DOCTOR!"

A sense of, contentment embraced the consciousness smiled. Now, it could begin to emerge from its torturous hibernation ..........

[Sean O'Toole]

Level Fifty-Six ...
Alpha Medical Center ::

Years passed, though, outside the consciousness, those years were more often condensed, into months, weeks, hours, minutes, and there was more now.

The light it had first seen so long ago, had returned time and time again, each time remaining in its sphere of attraction longer and longer. Now, there was something else, sound, audible stimuli entering the consciousness. Sometimes the sounds were lyrical, sometimes musical, sometimes a mixture of the two. The consciousness grew more elated.

Until one moment in its solitary existence, it understood the voices, the light! ... It moved cautiously into the home it had inhabited since it came to be, and .....

"Doctor, Mister O'Toole is regaining consciousness," someone vocalised.

"Sean, can you hear me?" someone asked, the consciousness fought, then finally opened his eyes. 'He' was Sean, the consciousness knew that now, he was part of this body, this Human Being.

"Try moving your eyes, left, right?" the woman asked, shining a bright light into each eye in turn, seemingly satisfied she moved on to other checks.

"Don't try to talk, you have been in an induced coma for the last three days, it will take time to regain lost senses,"

Finally, the consciousness knew it was home, knew it was safe in the hands of these people who cared about Sean's wellbeing. With one last look at the expanding Universe, and beyond, it gave control back to the body .....

Sean lay still trying to make sense of the cascading thoughts, feelings, beliefs. several people came into his field of vision, only to step outside all too quickly. He tried to reply, tried to interact with those tending to his needs, but his vocal cords refused to obey his command. He tried again and again, panic, anger, frustration, all flooded through his mind.

"Let's sedate him once more, his mind needs time to assimilate what happened to him," someone said. He felt something against his skin, then silence, darkness.

Time and again he was allowed to wake, and time and again he was deprived of all he craved, until waking one day he knew something was different, unlike before, he could now 'feel' ..... Fingers, arms, legs, tears. He ignored the voices, the people talking to him while he forced himself to concentrate. The burning sensation returned as he tried so hard to move one finger, but it did move. With renewed determination he tried again, this time it was fractionally easier, or maybe he was learning to cope with the burning. It mattered not, all he wanted to do was move one hand, then one arm, until he could lift an arm off the bed.

"What seemed to him like weeks or months of waking agony, was in fact only hours, minutes. But he persevered, fighting back the burning until it was a distant memory, something he bore but now expelled. He tried to speak, taking his time, concentrating on forming the words, feeling that word roll on his tongue, until he felt ready:

"Whaaaa ...." he said.

"Ahh, good evening," a voice, familiar, comforting. He tried to look in the direction of the voice as someone else now spoke, interrupting his concentration.

"Let's see if we can't sit you up a little OK?" the second person said, and he felt himself rising, he could see more of the room now and he looked left and right. But there was a familiar feeling in one hand he looked down to see a hand in his.

"It's good to see you awake. I was, worried," the voice trembled, worry, fear, he knew this person ... Kara ... The woman he was to marry soon. He smiled as she leaned forward and kissed him on one cheek before sitting back to allow the nurse to do her job. Now a man appeared, he looked at the reading above Sean's bed, nodding in satisfaction before moving to the bed beside his own. He looked over to see there was someone in that bed, asleep, unconscious, he had no way of knowing.

"It's Carl, he's taking a little longer to recover, but he'll be OK Sean," Kara said soothingly and he felt the rush of concern flood through him, tears were rolling down his face as fast as Kara could wipe them away.

"Fifteen minutes Miss, then he needs to rest,"

"Yes, Doctor," she replied, applying a little more pressure on his hand as she smiled ..........

[Sean O'Toole]

O'Tooles Bar & Grill ...
Level one five five one ...
Alpha Promenade ::

Having spent the previous two days sitting with an unconscious Sean, she had been elated when he had finally come out of the previously induced coma ..... finally allowing herself to be taken home, Kara had intended to sit on the bed and pass some time talking with David, but the second she sat, the wave of tiredness swept over her and warm, welcoming darkness enveloped her. Now, as she woke she realised it was already lunchtime. She seemed to remember vaguely making arrangements with David to pick her up at eight but wasn't too sure given the hour ..... She showered and dressed, then went through to the bar.

Nevé Cullen, one of the bars Supervisors, noticed her, and walked over:

"Hi, how're you feeling, A ghrá?" she asked, hugging her friend.

"I'm fine, I obviously didn't realise how tired I was..." Kara said, looking around the busy bar, "... How have you been coping, not too busy?"

"No, it's been fine, I did bring one of the girls in for an extra shift yesterday, but otherwise, we're good... David Tan came around but you were out with the fairies, so he said to let you sleep... Oh, I had a message for you from, Doctor Yalo..."

"Well...?!" Kara prompted.

"What... Oh, yes, he said Admiral Torek is showing signs of recovery, apparently he's been 'twitching' in his sleep, whatever that's supposed to be meaning..." Nevé said with an exaggerated shrug, "... Oh and Sean was up and about and you could visit. He said you should bring a change of clothes as it seems his shirt has a big hole in it?" Kara didn't hear the last couple of words as she ran back into the living quarters and picked out a few things before throwing them in a bag and running out through the bar getting a few stares in the process.

Level Fifty-Six ...
Alpha Medical Center ::

As she entered the Medical Center she headed straight for the room where Sean and Carl had been put, but a nurse stopped her in her tracks:

"Are those for Mister O'Toole?" she asked, eyeing the bag.

"Yes, I'll gi ...."

"I'll take them, he's in the shower, been in there for a while actually, you can wait in his room, Admiral Torek is restless but don't worry," the nurse took the bag and vanished down a corridor, Kara entered the room. A nurse was checking the readings on the monitor above Carl's bed, seemingly satisfied, she turned to leave, smiling at Kara as she did. Nervous as to how Sean may look she restlessly remade the coffee brought from the bar and poured herself one.

"Drinkin' alone now is it?" she spun around, coffee leaving the cup in an impressive arc. The nurse how followed him into the room shook her head in dismay as she took some towels and moved to mop up the mess. Kara threw her arms around Sean.

"Hey, I'm OK, try not to choke the life out of me will ya..." Sean said as he gently pulled her arms from around his neck. He sat on the bed to put his socks and shoes on as Kara waited, glancing over at Carl every few minutes, "... They said he should be coming out of the coma of his own accord at some point, his nervous system apparently took the hit harder than mine did, and they've had to change that mechanical eye of his as it was fried."

"That's good," Kara said, genuinely relieved that their friend was in recovery. Doctor Yalo entered, walking over to Torek for a quick look at his readings, then he turned to Sean and Kara:

"We're letting you go home today, but as we discussed, there are stipulations,"

"That's fine Doctor," Sean said, clearly ready to leave, but Yalo grinned.

"Not so fast Mister O'Toole, I'm going to explain what we expect to your good Lady here, so there is no 'misunderstanding' if you will..." he turned to Kara and continued, "... Here's a hypospray, it contains a painkiller to help with the quirkily-named 'pins and needles' he is suffering from. Also, he is to remain in your quarters for at least THREE FULL DAYS, no popping into that establishment of yours, no visiting friends, no nothing. It's your quarters or I'll have him brought back here and forcibly confined, is that fully understood by the two of you?"

"Yes....." Sean and Kara said in unison.

"Oh, as for Admiral Torek, you, young Lady, can come to visit, you... STAY HOME... Or else!" he used his thumbprint to authorise Sean's discharge and handed the PADD to the nurse before leaving," the two stood in the middle of the room unsure.

"Well...?" the nurse queried with a wry grin, "... I believe the Doctor said you could go?" she finished, raising her eyebrows. Kara and Sean didn't need telling again, they took another look at Carl, then left ..........

[Sean O'Toole]

O'Tooles Bar & Grill ...
Level one five five one ...
Alpha Promenade ::

Carl picked up the glass, holding it up to the light, his eyes squinting into the 'slightly less than clear' liquid .....

"So what are you calling this one?" he asked, slightly unsure whether to take an actual drink or just leave it to settle.

"Hmmm, Murphy's Stump," Sean said, clearly making the name up on the fly.

"Well, let's hope it doesn't taste like his apparently missing stump, or sales are going to go through the floor," Carl said, grinning.

"Hey, we'll be havin' less of that. You don't see me comin' to your place o' business and criticising, now do ya's?"

"You don't find me brewing highly dubious brews on the Bridge of the Raven," Carl replied.

"YOU... Hoomaan..... !" Carl turned around at the sound of someone addressing him, half expecting to see a disgruntled sampler of Murphy's Stump, he was faced with two irate Ferengi, and they were talking to Sean, not him. Sean had obviously seen the two approaching the bar and had, in his usual manner, chosen to completely ignore them.

"HOOMAAN..." the second Ferengi said, before inching behind his colleague.

"What can I be gettin' you gentlemen, maybe a pint of the special?" Sean said, pulling off two more flagons of the brew before placing them in front of the Ferengi.

"YOU... You took something from an associate of ours, we would like it back... NOW!"

"No idea what ya be a'talking about gentlemen, perhaps if you could explain what it is I'm supposed to have been taking, I may be able to help you two out. How's that sound?" The leader or rather braver of the two Ferengi, wasn't going to sit back and be ignored, he eyed Sean for a moment as if making up his mind on his next move, then seemingly decided, he drew a phaser from his jacket and pointed at Sean, Carl moved the two flagons of Murphy's Stump out of the way before leaning back theatrically, his eyes flicking between the Ferengi and Sean.

"Now, it's clear that you are not familiar with the rules of the house, so I'll be givin' you a little leeway to reassess your next move,"

"WHAT?!" the second Ferengi said, having no clue as to what the bar owner was talking about.

"I think he means, there are no weapons allowed in his establishment. This is what you call a 'Family Friendy' venue, one where children are found running around and playing in the games area..." Carl began explaining, pausing for a second as the phaser swung around until it was pointed at his chest, "... No weapons allowed, gentlemen," he said, raising both arms in mock surrender.

"DO NOT MESS WITH ME... HOOMAAN," the phaser-wielding Ferengi said to Sean, his eyes still on Carl as he jabbed the business end into his gut for emphasis, before returning his attention to Sean, "... YOU... I have come a long way, and do not intend to leave disappointed. Give me what you stole from my associate, or else.....!"

Unbeknownst to either Ferengi, Kara and Elise, who had been deep in some secret discussion, had witnessed what was happening and had postponed their talk in favour of seeing what was going on. When Kara heard the Ferengi threaten Sean, she stepped behind him and held the palm of her hand a centimetre from the back of his head. The second Ferengi had a split-second to realise she was there before she pushed the Ferengi's head forward. As good fortune would have it, the ten-centimetre diameter solid brass rail that ran the length of the bar, was at exactly the right height to impact the Ferengi's forehead as it was thrust forward.

There was a satisfying 'thud' when the Ferengi impacted the bar, Sean reached out to deftly grab the phaser, and free of Kara's hand, he fell to the floor unconscious. Seeing this, his associate began to squeal in despair before Kara leaned forward and placed a finger on his lips. Sean opened a drawer and threw the weapon among the others he'd confiscated then retrieved his drink from Carl. Patrons who had witnessed the altercation, quickly realised that their host was dealing with it, and it wasn't going to upset their visit.

"Now..." Kara asked the snivelling Ferengi, "... How about, you tell us what this is all about?"

"I... We... HE!" the Ferengi spluttered before Kara interrupted him:

"He said, we have got something that belongs to him, any vague idea as to what that might be at all?" she asked as Elise climbed onto a stool next to Carl. Two Security Officers who had entered the bar approached them.

"We were passing Sean," one of them said, eyeing the two Ferengi, "Anything you need?"

"You could take these two, they said I have something belongin' to someone they know, but I'm at a loss to be knowin' what they're be talkin' about..." Sean explained as one grabbed the still whining Ferengi, the other pulled the now semi-conscious one to his feet, already complaining "... Gentlemen... Will ya be havin' a túath before you leave Gentlemen?"

"On duty, but we might be back later, do you still have that Irish girl singing?"

"Imogen, yes, the voice of an Angel she has," Sean said.

"Later then, my wife loves her voice," one of the Security duo said, manhandling the two incensed Ferengi out of the bar.

"So, what is it you have that those two would be coming in here threatening all n' sundry?" Kara asked hands on hips. Sean could only shrug, genuinely having no clue as to why they thought he had anything. But the Ferengi, and whatever they were looking for, were forgotten as Carl began to cough and choke:

"Smooth .......!" he croaked, putting the flagon of 'Murphy's Stump' back on the bar, as the others burst into fits of laughter ..........

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..... End of Thread .....

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