The U.S.S. Takeda Shingen

After much protest, and not a few unsavory challenges and accusations exchanged between K'Etra and Diziara, the commander agreed to allow the team one day to investigate Marloth's claims. She left one of her officers with the team to assist them, introducing him as Lieutenant Korloth and suggesting the team start with the official reports.

Even though the claim was Korloth was there to assist them, it soon became clear that his definition of help was rather different than expected by the crew of the Takeda Shingen. When asked to lead the team to the security office, so they could follow Commander K'Etra's recommendations, he remained silent and stared at them impatiently. It didn't take long for Diziara to reach the conclusion that he had no intention of doing much else, and stalked off towards the location she remembered the security office having been, in hopes that it would still be in the same place. Tom was right on her heels, and Svetlana and AJ had to move quick to keep up. Korloth followed behind, slow but near enough that he could easily hear any discussion and keep an eye on the group.

The greeting they received at the security office was marginally better; Korloth at least had the presence of mind to speak up when their requests for the reports in question were challenged. It was clear he was doing the bare minimum needed to help, and when he settled in to talk about his new yan with the security officer, Diziara had a few less than savory words to direct at him. He shot her a look, but otherwise ignored her. Tom guided the team to an unused interrogation room, and the team settled in to look over the reports. The translation program provided made choppy work of the reports, so in the end, Diziara had to summarize each to clarify the weak parts of the translations.

"You can see here," Diziara explained, dropping her PADD in the middle of the table. She leaned over to pull up a section of the report featuring the various witness statements, "as well as here, here and here... the story was for the most part consistent, until you get to the bartender on duty. His initial statements taken on the scene, describe the killer as someone who couldn't possibly match the description of that dipstick in our holding cell." She crossed her arms, standing up straight again. "However, you'll note that in his official statement, he backpedals and tries to claim he just didn't get a good look at the guy and that maybe he identified the wrong person. I recommend talking to him, at least."

"We certainly want to get a look at the crime scene," Tom suggested, leaning forwards to rest his forehead against his hand as his elbow rested on the table.

"Station like this, a bar is going to clean up as soon as possible so they can get back to business," Diziara explained regretfully. "But it can't hurt to try. We might also want to get a second opinion on the autopsy and the stiff." Diziara looked at AJ when she said this.

The group didn't have to go far into the station before they were met by a short Klingon woman, backed by two larger and taller Klingons: one male and the other female. All three were wearing Klingon Defense Force uniforms. The short woman had commander rank insignia on her uniform, the other two, lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Rogers," she addressed him, a fleeting look at Diziara as she approached. "Where is our fugitive?" She stopped in front of him, her officers flanking her to either side.

"A pleasure to finally meet you too, Commander K'Etra," he returned, a heavy dose of sarcasm in his voice. Diziara cleared her throat, stepping forward.

"Check your Texas manners at the door, stud," she shot at him under her breath. "Marloth requested asylum and it has been provisionally granted by Captain Henriksen."

"You are here as our guest and he is our fugitive. I demand you release him now," K'Etra growlled. Diziara grinned, but Tom spoke up before she could retort.

"He requested asylum while within Federation space," Tom explained patiently. "We are under obligation to at least address his concerns before releasing him to your custody. He claims he will not receive fair trial and has given us reason to suspect there may be more to the case than meets the eye. If you'll kindly indulge us, we would like a chance to investigate the matter. If we find no evidence of his claims, Captain Henriksen is prepared to release him to your custody at that time."

"You're in our space, on our invitation. You have no grounds-" K'Etra protested.

"The current peace treaty between The Empire and The Federation says we have plenty of grounds," Diziara interrupted her. The smaller woman closed the space between her and Diziara and looked up with a fierce gaze.

"And who are you?" K'Etra demanded.

"Lieutenant Diziara, of the House of Koraith."

"A small and almost unknown house," she dismissed.

"But you knew it by name," Diziara returned, a smirk playing across her lips. "Besides, those are large words from a Commander stuck on this unimportant, neglected ghe''or."

From: svetuninteligbl
Date: 58169.26
Subject: Junction 403

The next person who thinks they have a better fix for Junction 403 than I do is welcome to debate this issue while tied to a spit over hot coals.

Tom and Diziara approached the docking port at 22:59. Svetlana and AJ were already waiting, and Tom nodded politely to both as he moved up to the docking port controls. Diziara quietly followed

"I've heard good things about you, Crewman. Looking forward to working with you," he directed over his shoulder at AJ as he opened the airlock. He started forward, but only made it halfway through the port before he noticed that Diziara was standing dumb in the middle of the walkway so that AJ and Svetlana could not easily move past her. "Somethin' wrong, darlin'?" he asked, gently guiding her by the shoulder to the side. "Go on ahead, we'll be right there," he said to AJ and Svetlana.

"I know this station," Diziara explained to Tom, glancing at the airlock. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the port the Barracuda was docked at the last time..." She trailed off, and Tom frowned.

"If you're not up for this, I'll swallow my pride, and wrangle Houghton instead," he offered. Diziara fiercely shook her head, then swallowed hard.

"No, I'll be... fine. I just might be a little off, that's all." She tried to smile at him, and he shook his head.

"You sure? I understand if yo-" Tom returned.

"I'm FINE," she snapped, and brushed past him to stalk onto the station.

Diziara picked up a blue medium sized pyramid, and peered at it intently. "So, we're doing what with this, exactly?" She tilted her head to the left and looked at Svetlana. She rolled the piece between her fingers.

"Move where you want, but remember the rules." Svetlana smiled.

"You know me and rules," Diziara shook her head, looking at the board for a long moment. She finally set the piece down, leaving her finger on it a long moment as she looked at Svetlana to see if her friend betrayed any thoughts about her move.

"This is easy variation. When I am playing with my friends from home each piece has a meaning. We use them to leave messages." Svetlana studied the board, "You just said 'I penguin your shuttle.' but you are learning."

"Hey, penguin is a hard maneuver to pull in a shuttle. Don't knock it," Diziara grinned as she took her hand off the piece.

Svetlana immediately picked up a red piece and placed it between three blue ones, then laid each of them on their sides pointing away from the red piece. "Also you need to remember to relax. Is not about winning or losing, especially when I am winning."

"Especially when you're winning," Diziara repeated with an amused snort. She stacked a small orange piece on top of a green one. "Your modifications to my quarters certainly perplexed Spiegel."

Svetlana shrugged, "They probably shouldn't, he is clever enough. I suppose Starfleet doesn't teach the suspicion you would need in the real world." Svetlana replaced the three blue pieces with purple ones.

"Oh no, he gets why you did them... he's just unsure how they're so effective." Diziara tilted her head sideways again. "And he's rather annoyed that I won't let him inspect them."

"If he likes I can do them to his quarters, but he has to ask me nicely."

"This is Spiegel we're talking about. Nicely is offering booze along with his heavy dose of sarcasm."

"Still, he should be coming to me, not to you. I might be teaching him a few things."

"I think he's afraid. He surrounds himself with strong women, but he doesn't know what to do with them." Diziara moved her hand over the board as she considered the array in front of her. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."

Svetlana leaned back in her chair, "I'll give you the same advice I'd give him. Make it up as you go along. It's what I do."

"Oooo, so we're playing Calvin ball. Gotcha'." Diziara grinned, and knocked over her tower of the orange and green pieces, laying them on their sides pointed towards Svetlana's purple ones.

"I suppose we are at that." Svetlana placed a clear piece on top of each red one, "Everyone plays by their own sets of rules. The winner is determined by who surrenders their own rules and plays by another's. In Icehouse, and in life."

"There is something to be said for subverting someone else's rules though." Diziara smirked, switching the clear pieces Svetlana just placed with yellow ones.

Svetlana smiled, "it's all about when you admit defeat." She placed a black cap on a piece in the center of the board.

"If I admitted defeat, I wouldn't be in the fleet anymore." Diziara picked up the black piece, then the piece it was on top of, a white one. After tucking the black on inside the white one, she set the two down where they had been previously.

Svetlana looked out the window for awhile, "There are versions that have strict rules. There are also versions with no rules at all. They all have their purposes." She looked back at the game board, "Sometimes you get a mess, and sometimes you get something pretty." The game pieces were a lopsided swirl, an abstract nebula. "You still want to play?"

"Are you asking because you're trying to trick me into letting you win, or because you're tired of the game?" A smirk and a wink accompanied Diziara's question. Her combadge chirped at her.

"Rogers to Diziara."

"In the middle of girlie bonding time, stud, what can I do for you?"

"Are you up for a field trip, darlin'? I could use someone fluent in Klingon."

"Klingon, huh? Stace is fluent."

"You know I don't like that man."

"I thought you'd gotten over that."

"I'd also like someone who can hold a weapon."

"Mmm, well, if you drag me along... you should take V too. She's handy."

"She's also sick of being on the ship." Svetlana muttered and started packing up the game.

"V?" There was a pause as Tom seemed to consider this. "That's your Russian friend, Churni-churna... er, Swet-" As Diziara started to giggle at him, he stopped attempting to say Svetlana's name. "She's got engineering and intel background, right?"

"Also cooking!" Svetlana piped up, "And she is tired of fixing junction 403 every time someone thinks they know better."

There was a full minute of silence, with Diziara grinning and biting her lip. Finally Tom coughed. "I didn't realize she was listening in," he muttered, and Diziara laughed.

"He's probably a bright tomato red right now," Diziara assured Svetlana.

"I reckon that even if I weren't inclined to bring her, I'd have to owe her the spot on the team to make amends for the dung heap I made of her name a moment ago."

Svetlana grinned like a predator.

"When're we heading out?"

"We're about an hour out from the station, yet. Unless you ladies would like to take a gander at our guest of honor, I don't need you for another forty-five. He's sitting in a holding cell at the moment, insists he's innocent and wants asylum. The captain's indulging him for the moment, but she sounds skeptical."

"Innocent of what? Some details would be helpful." Svetlana stood up.

"Murder."

"Mmm, I think we'll be meeting you at the holding cell shortly," Diziara responded as she stood also. "See you shortly." She closed the channel and looked at Svetlana.

“Should be more interesting than fixing Junction 403." Svetlana snapped her fingers to wake up Toolbot and led the way to the door.

"Oh, no doubt about that. So, do you think we should see how long it takes Tom to figure out how to spit out Svetlana Chernyshevski, or should we save him the trouble and tell him to call you V?" Diziara grinned, her eyes flitting to Toolbot for a moment before she followed Svetlana out the door.

"I am always a fan of letting people find their own way."

Diziara grinned wide.

Svetlana and Diziara reached the security office after a short walk, and Tom met them outside the room with the holding cells. There was still the remnants of the blush that Diziara had guessed (correctly) had afflicted him earlier, and it flared up again as he made eye contact with Svetlana. He didn't say anything, and instead elected to jump into explaining what was going on.

"We received an emergency call from a station just across the border in Klingon space, requesting we collect a fugitive wanted for murder, who had stolen their only shuttle craft on their station. When confronted, Marloth insists that he's innocent. He requested asylum, claiming that he would not get a fair trial. We're currently in route to the station, but have not informed Commander K'Etra of Marloth's request."

"Who is he supposed to have murdered?"

"A human by the name of Marcus Rivera. Marloth insists that he was framed, though he isn't sure who did it, but he does admit that Marcus was also vying for the affections of a woman named Rosalie, with whom Marloth works."

"Why doesn't he think he will get a fair trial?"

"He's in Klingon space, how the hell would he get a fair trial?" Diziara rolled her eyes at the question. "Sounds like he's working for some civilian company, if he's got a human for a coworker. If you're not an honorable warrior, a lot of times you're a second class citizen."

"Half-human," Tom corrected. "Rosalie's mother is Klingon."

"Even worse," Diziara insisted with a snort.

"I suppose that makes sense. Why does he think he is being framed for it?"

"I haven't had near enough time to talk to him. Most of this information I got from sitting in when he was talking to the Captain."

"Let's have a go at him then."

Tom took a step towards the door in, close enough to trigger it, then stood aside with a small nod. "After you," he insisted. Diziara shook her head slowly, but walked in. Svetlana followed, Toolbot scrambling after her.

Tom started to follow Svetlana at first, then suddenly looked down to notice Toolbot just before his boot landed on top of it. After an awkward half-hop to avoid stepping on it, he followed slowly behind, his eyebrow raised as he watched it carefully.

In the only active holding cell was a Klingon. About average height for a Klingon male, his build was unusually slight for his race. He sat quietly on the bench in the cell. Two guards stood to either side, and when they saw Tom enter, they stood at attention.

Diziara strode right up to the holding cell and looked in at Marloth. Noticing that people had come in, he looked up. His eyes went to Diziara and he stared at her for a long moment.

"You are Kaith's sister?" he asked her in Klingon. She tilted her head to the side as she considered him.

"You know my brother?" she returned, likewise in Klingon.

"I will not talk to this treacherous petaQ," Marloth directed at Tom, speaking in English this time.

Svetlana raised an eyebrow at Tom, "Making friends then?"

"Don't ask me," Diziara muttered, her gaze staying on Marloth. Tom stepped forward with a frown.

"What's the problem with Diz?" Tom asked, stopping next to her. Marloth's gaze moved between Tom and Diziara a couple times before his focus landed on Tom. "Traitor is not a word I'd associate with her."

"Of course not, she was on your side of the war."

Diziara growled, and her fists clenched. "Kaith and I have come to terms over that," she snapped, and Marloth laughed.

"He probably only did so to keep your mother happy."

Svetlana looked at Tom and shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly. "Mothers like their children to get along." Svetlana said, "You have a choice, talk to her, or talk to your friends back at the station."

Marloth looked past Tom and Diziara to Svetlana, his eyes darting downwards to the Toolbot at her heels before his eyes traveled back up to hers. "They won't talk. They all hate me."

"I'm sure for other reasons than your winning personality. Or your ability to make friends wherever you go." She crossed her arms, "Talk, I like a good story."

"Didn't she used to have a heavy accent?" Tom asked Diziara quietly, provoking a smirk out of the red-head.

"If I had a good story, do you think I'd be sitting here?" Marloth demanded, standing up. He strode forward towards the force field, a harsh look directed at Diziara for a moment before moving his gaze back to Svetlana again. "I have a bit of a record, though I've not actually done anything wrong. Rosie keeps falling back in with the wrong crowd, any more convictions and she'll likely lose her job, so I've taken the fall for her more than a few times."

"What kind of wrong crowd?"

"Marcus, for example. The two of them grew up together, he lead her into the petty theft, the lies, the property damage. When she took this job, she was trying to move away from all that, then he followed her out here and got himself an on again, off again, job with the station bar."

"This Marcus is the one you're supposed to have killed?'

"If I'd killed him, they wouldn't have found a body, let alone had witnesses," Marloth growled.

"Statements like that won't help your case any," Diziara insisted with a snort. His eyes darted back to her.

"Says the dishonorable bitch who tried to kill her brother!"

"Who specifically left him alive when I could have killed him," she snarled back, stepping closer to the forcefield.

"Children." Svetlana said in a stern voice. "So if you didn't kill him who did?"

"I don't know," he admitted, then growled at Diziara before he made himself take a step back.

"So why would anyone want to frame you for killing him?"

"Sounds like a lot of people don't like him," Diziara observed. "I don't know why though." Tom laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Diz," Tom said to her quietly, and she looked at him. "Perhaps you should stop stirring the shit?"

"Well without knowing more there's not much we can do." Svetlana looked the Klingon up and down, "Unless you have some evidence to help your case that you're just holding back because of your personal feelings for my friend here."

Marloth considered for a moment, sitting down on the bench in the cell again.

"There's something not right going on with the company Rosie and I work for. I caught the Boss collaborating with some Ferengi, but when I tried to tell someone about it, the Ferengi were found floating dead in space. That was a couple months back now."

"Do you think he has something to do with it?"

"I don't know. I've noticed when people make the boss angry, they tend to have more run ins with the orions in this sector."

"Orions?" Tom's eyebrow rose this, and Diziara tensed up.

"You could say we're a juicy target, all the high value cargo in our holds. But it seems like after someone pisses off the boss, their runs usually get hit more. Rosie says I'm being paranoid, but I've been running the numbers. That's what lead me to the Ferengi to start with."

"So maybe the boss is behind it?"

Marloth considered this for a long moment, then his eyes lit up. "Maybe."

"Do you have any of those number with you?"

"A virus wiped out the computer on the Barracuda last week, and I can't find the backup. I thought I gave it to Rosie for safe keeping."

"Barracuda?" Diziara asked quietly. Marloth looked at her.

"My ship." He explained, oddly confused by her tone.

"There's a fist sized dent, in the cockpit, starboard side wall...?" She added, and Marloth nodded slowly.

Svetlana looked at Diziara, "Something we should know?"

"That was my ship," she said. "That fucking hunk of bolts, where the port aft thruster was always a half a percent lower powered that all the rest... No matter what Travis did-" She stopped suddenly.

"Back to you." Svetlana glared at the Klingon, "What were you hauling?"

"We haul a lot of stuff, I think we had wobbly headed Kahless dolls that time..." Marloth made a face. "The most hideous things I have ever seen. Rosie stole one and left it in our bunk." He frowned.

"Our bunk" Svetlana raised an eyebrow, "Were you involved?"

"There's only one bunk in the ship," Diziara explained even as Marloth answered, "She's my girlfriend."

"Do you think she might be in danger?"

"Why would she be in danger?" Marloth asked, confusion clear on his face.

"She's involved with you, she was supposed to have the backup, she has a criminal history." Svetlana ticked them off on her fingers, "She might know something, she might be involved." Svetlana examined her fingers and then made a fist, "We'd like to know what we're getting into here."

"Clearly he doesn't understand what he's drug himself into," Diziara observed.

"We can take her into protective custody when we reach the station, if she wants it," Tom pointed out.

"The Orion Syndicate doesn't get involved with Khaless bobble heads. Unless you can think of anything else that we might be able to use to help you then you should probably try to record as much as you can remember."

"Orion Syndicate?" Marloth's eyes went wide. "Why do you even think it's them?"

She shrugged, "Always prepare for the worst. You're the one who mentioned Orions. If you'd mentioned the Gamma Quadrant I'd be worried about shapeshifters. I think we're done here until we can get access to some evidence."

"Get him a PADD, and see that he records everything he can think of," Tom directed one of the officers standing guard.

"If we're going on a Klingon station, I should probably arm myself," Diziara murmured to herself as she turned towards the door. Tom snorted.

"Darlin', I know what sort of inventory you keep on yourself when you're just on standard duty," he pointed out, following her.

Setlana went with them, "Zere is alvays being room for surprises." She drawled, staring Tom in the eye.

Tom raised an eyebrow, looking at Svetlana carefully. Diziara giggled.

"See? Handy."

The bridge was quiet, and the light crew for the graveyard shift mostly kept their attention on their consoles; they were running diagnostics where they could, and otherwise occupying themselves with things such as solitaire, sudoku and writing letters home. Tom Rogers sat in the command chair, keeping an eye on the tactical systems from the display in the arm of the chair.

“Sir? We have an incoming hail on a Klingon emergency frequency,” Ensign Maloc spoke up from Operations.

“On screen,” he directed. The petite form of a Klingon woman in a Klingon Defense Force uniform appeared on the main view screen. “This is Lieutenant Tom Rogers of the Federation Starship USS Takeda Shingen, how can we be of assistance?”

“Commander K'Etra, of the House of Kortha,” she returned Tom's introduction. “We just had a fugitive run with our only shuttlecraft assigned to the station. He is wanted for murder and the nearest Klingon ship will likely lose him before they could respond. He is headed into Federation space.”

Tom was quiet a long moment, then looked over his shoulder at Ensign Maloc. “Any sign of the shuttle on our sensors?”

”Yes sir, they just adjusted their trajectory to attempt to skirt us, and they're currently just beyond tractor beam range,” Maloc returned. Tom bit his lip with a frown.

”Now I reckon that it would be no trouble at all for us to collect your fugative,” Tom allowed. “However, I also reckon this question of jurisdiction might figure in as a problem. If he rabbits back into Klingon space-”

”The Empire and the Federation are allies, are they not?” She grinned wide at him, and Tom sighed. “I am authorized to clear you for pursuit, on our terms. Bring him back alive, and the shuttle in running condition, and there will be no problems.” She seemed to consider a long moment before the word 'please' escaped her lips to punctuate her statement. Tom raised his eyebrow, for it was in English, and though her accent was think, it was clear what the word was.

”Only because you asked so nicely, lil' lady,” Tom finally agreed. “Please provide us with the registry number and the last known course, so that we may confirm that we are pursuing the correct vessel.”

”Of course, sending the information now.” She closed the channel as Ensign Maloc confirmed to Tom he had received the information.

”Open hailing frequency to the ship,” Tom directed. When Maloc nodded, Tom cleared his throat, standing up. “Klingon shuttlecraft qIj lIy, stand down and prepare to be brought into our shuttle bay. We act under the authorization of Commander K'Etra of the Klingon De-”

”I know who she is,” came the growled response as a Klingon man appeared on the view screen. “I didn't do it, and they won't give me a fair trial. I will surrender to you under the condition your ship will grant me asylum and see to my fair trial.”

”Done,” Tom agreed.

”Sir, can we-” Ensign Maloc started to protest, and Tom turned to him, drawing his fingers across his neck. The ensign closed his mouth, and muted the comchannel.

”If we can't do it, we will find someone who can. For now, he is willing to surrender himself. We do not want to pass up this opportunity, looking up the regs for it.”

”Yes sir.”

”Unmute the channel, please,” Tom directed. Ensign Maloc quickly complied and Tom turned back to the view screen with a wide grin.

”If you would kindly cut your engines, we'll pull you right into the shuttle bay for safe keeping. I'll have a couple of security officers meet you down there, just as a precaution mind you. Then we can get you settled somewhere safe and cozy, set up a meeting with the Captain, and go from there.”

Diziara entered Henriksen's ready room at the appointed time, and provided the captain with a proper salute. Henriksen raised her eyebrow at this, already being well aware of Diziara's reputation, but Diziara gave no reaction to this small facial tick. The two women regarded each other in silence a moment, and a small smile flashed across Henriksen's lips as she returned Diziara's salute.

"At ease, Lieutenant," she said as her hand fell. Diziara quickly fell to a parade rest. "As you know, Lieutenant Kvorash is leaving us, family business at home before being assigned to the Tethys upon its launch..."

"Yes ma'am," Diziara said simply. Between the formal response, and the fact that she was choosing to follow proper protocol, she seemed to leave Henriksen a little ill at ease. She was careful to try not to show it, only shifting slightly in her seat.

"Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?" Henriksen finally asked. Diziara tilted her head to the side at this question.

"Not that I am aware of, ma'am," Diziara told her. "You're the one who requested this meeting." Henriksen frowned slightly.

"As I was saying," she continued, and cleared her throat. "Kvorash is leaving and we'll need a new department head for flight control." This statement seemed to confuse Diziara, as her head tilted to the side again.

"The ship rumor mill seems to think Decker's the strong choice," Diziara stated.

"You do not seem the sort to listen to the gossips."

"I listen, but don't make decisions based upon their information alone. They didn't seem likely to be off in this case, even with Johnson's personal interest in me." Diziara relaxed as she said this and Henriksen's mouth quirked a little to hint at a smile.

"The Admiral actually did pull for you quite a bit, and initially I had been strongly considering Decker," Henriksen explained as she gestured towards the chair across the desk from her. "Your record, at the security level I can view it, glosses over your previous experience in this area, but Johnson made me aware of it."

"Delta Force was a bit of a unique assignment," Diziara allowed, and took the offered seat.

"Rumors about Khazara alone are impressive enough, let alone the Delta Force mission. When I hear things, it makes me wish I had the security clearance to read some of the reports."

"Part of the reason I listen to rumors, but pay them little mind without outside information, is that they're usually pretty entertaining, but fact is often times quite different than rumor, be it more mundane or more strange," Diziara explained with a grin.

"Well, the one rumor that has served you well is that Admiral Khazara is a good judge of character," Henriksen explained, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "However, without my being able to directly judge your service experience, I will have to have you take some training from someone who does have experience I have clearance to observe... Kvorash is leaving too soon to do it himself."

"Wouldn't Terra Nova's records provide some indication of my experience?" Diziara seemed confused and mildly annoyed at this point.

"Between the connection with Delta Force, something involving temporal investigations, then the ship's untimely demise, after you were transferred off..." Henriksen seemed to consider what she wanted to say as Diziara's frown deepened with each thing Henriksen listed off. "We can just say I am not left with much I can read."

"So you've selected me for a position based upon Johnson's recommendation, and the rumored reputation of an Admiral I served under?" Diziara tried to keep her voice level and professional, but a hint of amusement slipped through anyways.

"Johnson has been so kind as to recommend who can provide your training to just reassure me that my gut is not serving me wrong here," Henriksen said, her gaze piercing after Diziara's last comment. "The Admiral says you two should work well together, that you and Lieutenant Figgins know each other already."

"He feels that Jack is the right person to train me on a job I already know how to do?" Diziara's eyes went wide, and she looked as if she was going to say something else, but bit her lip.

"Is there going to be a problem?" The Captain leaned forward to regard Diziara. Diziara shook her head.

"Remind me, next time I see the Admiral, he and I still need some more common ground to discuss combat over," Diziara stated, and a touch of a growl came through her statement. Henriksen laughed and Diziara looked at her surprised.

"He told me about your time together on the sparring ground on Andor," she explained. "Didn't he have to borrow a knife from you for that?"

"Yes."

"I suspect he'll go through the whole ordeal again, if you said he should."

"He's not quite right in the head, is he?"

"He has figured out how to work with what the fleet has to offer. You might want to take notes."

"I don't intend for my career to go that far, didn't exactly intend for a career, truth be told," Diziara shrugged as she said this.

"You most certainly have a career now. I would recommend either taking it seriously, or stepping aside to let someone else move forward in your place." The Captain's tone was a little impatient as she said this, and Diziara grinned.

"Lead, follow or get the hell out of the way. Yes, ma'am," Diziara grinned as she said this, and Henriksen furrowed her brow as she considered it. "May I ask who is going to be responsible for the fighter squadron, once this department transfer goes through?"

"I haven't had time to make that decision yet. For now, Castillo appears to be capable enough that he can manage in the interim, based upon what Sevel has reported to me." When Diziara snorted at this, Henriksen raised her eyebrow at her.

"If it were my decision, I would name Castillo my successor," Diziara explained, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "Being the cynic I am, I didn't expect I would get to play with the fighter squadron for that long, so I have been training him already. He's more than ready for the job, and he's already got a bond with the squadron."

"I will keep that in mind," Henriksen said, picking up a PADD from her desk. "There are some details I still need to work out, but we'll talk further before the final transfer takes place. I'll come to a decision regarding Castillo by that time. Dismissed."

As the squadron filtered in before their shift started, they made their ways to their respective fighters, suiting up and running preflight checks. Diziara stood off to the side, watching quietly as she usually did, but no one noticed the a small box in her hand. When everyone arrived, which was usually when she started her own preflight checks, she continued to stand waiting and watching. It wasn't long before people started exchanging looks at this change in behavior from her, and they started circling around her to see what was up. She waited until everyone had come over, and mets eyes with Castillo standing in the back. He had a grin on his face, and it was clear he already had an idea of where this was going.

"Everyone's been doing great, and as a thank you for all your hard work, I though we'd just kick back today," she finally said. Looks were exchanged, and there was some murmuring and muttering. "Anyone play poker?" She opened the box in her hand, exposing a set of chips and a couple decks of cards.

"You know I much prefer Fizzbin," Castillo returned, grin wide on his face. Diziara returned his grin, and they were both silent a moment.

"Eh, it's Tuesday, you know I hate to play Fizzbin on Tuesdays," she returned, causing him to grin wider. "We'll let the squadron decide. Show of hands, how many want Fizzbin?" A couple of people raised their hands hesitantly. "And poker?" An equal number of people raised their hands for poker.

"Dead tie. I suppose that means we should play Tongo. I think I have a wheel and cards tucked away in the storage cabinet," Castillo suggested.

"Ug, I don't want to number crunch like that. Tongo makes astrophysics seem like elementary school math," Diziara complained. "We'll play poker. The rules are easier than Fizzbin. I hate getting into arguments about if it's always night in space."

"We could play Three-Dragon Ante," Shelly offered, causing her friends to look at her surprised. "My brother strong armed me into sitting in on a couple games when his D&D games ran slow. I think I saw a replicator pattern for the deck the last time I was poking around for something to do."

"I'm always up for learning a new game," Diziara said with a shrug. Shelly was sent to replicate a deck, and everyone else sat down on the flight deck. It ended up only being Shelly, Boq, Grace, Diziara and Castillo who played the Three-Dragon Ante, everyone else ended up playing a game called Bullshit with the two decks of regular cards.

When the main entrance to the flight deck opened and closed, Diziara looked up. No one else in the squadron looked when she did, and so when she noticed it was Commander Sevel who had just arrived, she politely excused herself and headed over to cut the first officer off before she reached the squadron.

"The rumors I had been hearing involved you drilling the squadron heavily. I was not aware that card games are a form of fighter drill," she observed, and Diziara grinned.

"No ma'am, the drill was about due to start. The card games are lulling them into a false sense of security," Diziara explained, provoking a raised eyebrow from Sevel. "I find that drilling for emergency launches when the squadron is expecting it doesn't get the same results as the real thing. So I'm springing it on them when they won't expect it. They've been doing well with the expected drills, so I figured it was time to start throwing kinks into the system and see how they do."

"Very well, I will leave you to it then," Sevel told her, and turned to leave again.

"I was actually about ready to spring it on them. Would you like to stay and watch?" When Sevel nodded, Diziara lead her to the control room for the flight deck. As they reached it, and Diziara started cuing up the settings for the drill alarms, Castillo looked up from the game. Seeing Diziara and Commander Sevel at the controls, he picked up Diziara's hand from where she'd left it and played for her as the alarm went off.

The whole of the squadron was on their feet in the blink of an eye, playing cards scattering about like confetti as they each dashed for their fighter. Diziara grinned as she watched, occasionally glancing down at the timer in the panel she'd set. When the last pilot was in their fighter, ready to launch, she stopped the timer and considered it for a moment. She looked at Sevel, and when she saw a twitch at the corner of the Vulcan woman's lip, Diziara grinned widely.

"Would you like to address them, or shall I, ma'am?" Diziara asked her.

"It is your squadron," Sevel stated. Diziara's hands flew across the controls, and she triggered the PA for the flight deck.

"Okay, ya mooks, pretty good job. I'd like to see a shorter time, but considering we hadn't drilled on emergency launches before this, and you were caught flat footed, that was pretty damn impressive." Diziara paused, and let them take this in. She saw some of them power down their fighters again. "Commander Sevel unexpectedly showed up to witness that, and..." Diziara met eyes with Sevel, who nodded. "...She was impressed with what she saw. Keep up the good work. I'll be down in a minute to launch, and we'll run some more drills."

"That was an interesting drill technique, Lieutenant," Sevel observed, causing Diziara to grin again. "I anticipate taking opportunity to observe your unique technique further." Diziara snorted in amusement at that statement. "Have a good flight, Lieutenant."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you." There was a spring in Diziara's step as she headed for her fighter, and Commander Sevel left without further comment.

"Your aunt is crazy, Pip," Zyrah said with a laugh, wrapping her arm around Grace's shoulder. Grace opened the front of her jumpsuit, and shrugged it off her shoulders as she skipped ahead of Zyrah and turned around to walk backwards in front of her friend.

"Eh, that's just the start of it. You should see her in a biplane. A. Maze. Ing." Grace pushed the jumpsuit down past her hips, leaving herself in just a black and pink hibiscus print swimsuit as she stepped out of the jumpsuit. Zyrah shook her head, and started to shed her jumpsuit also, exposing a red halter swim suit, as Grace stooped to pick her jumpsuit up.

"Shit, who would have thought orbital skydiving would be so fun?" Kizel demanded, running up the beach and catching Grace around the waist. She squealed as he threw her up over his shoulder.

"We're going to have to do that again," Boq commented, walking up behind Zyrah. Shelly was quiet as she followed on his heels.

"But first, I think there was talk of alcohol and partying," Kizel insisted, making his way to the path up off the beach. The group could hear talking, and music just past the cluster of palms lined the edge of the beach.

"That's everyone, Diz. Our boobie prize winners are Ensigns Boq, Bright, Eyn, Toza, and White," Rafael Castillo announced as the five friends moved past the palms. There were tables covered with food, bins full of ice and bottles of beer, and what looked like a minibar with a selection of harder alcohol. A volleyball game was going at one end of the area, and a limbo pole was set up in the middle.

"We can't have five boobs," Diziara objected with a giggle. "Should we put it to a vote, or a limbo contest?"

"We can always have the holodeck duplicate the hat, it would be fun to have five of them running around," Rafael returned, only to cause Diziara to pout.

"A hat?" Boq asked, stepping forward with a curious look on his face.

"A magnificent one, with feathers and everything," Diziara returned. Boq grinned as he looked back at his friends, all of which looked hesitantly at him.

"I'll be the boob, ma'am," he offered, drawing a wide grin from Diziara.

"Bring forth the Boobie hat!" she called, and everyone else started chanting boobie over and over again, until Rafael brought the hat. It stood easily a foot tall, with a rainbow of plumage sticking off the top. Diziara solemnly took it, and stepped forward, holding it up above her head and drawing the group silent. "For volunteering for the boobie prize, an honor reserved for the last person to arrive at the party, I award you this carefully crafted hat. Designed to be the most hideous and embarrassing thing known to the universe, and your required headgear for the rest of the party." She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, though snickers, giggles and snorts flitted through the assembled group. Boq knelt down in front of Diziara, and she grinned widely as she placed the hat on his head.

"I thank you for this honor, and I request booze in compensation," Boq returned, bowing carefully so as to not lose the top heavy hat from his head. As he stood up straight again, he was a sight, rainbow plumage jutting above his head, and a pair of bright orange and black swim trunks, conflicting merrily with his blue bolian skin. Diziara grinned widely, and swiped the bottle of Romulan ale that was sitting in the middle of the collection on top of the mini bar.

"Only a man confidant in his own skin could carry that get up so well, you deserve the best I have to offer," she insisted, and held out the bottle. He looked at it a moment, before accepting it and taking a pull direct from the bottle. When he offered it back to her, he blinked a couple times before he grinned.

"Romulan Ale?" he asked her quietly, and she nodded. "I must admit, that was my first time."

"I popped his Romulan Ale cherry!" Diziara cried with glee. Rafael started cheering, and soon the whole party was making a ruckus as Diziara grabbed Boq and spun him around in a kind of a dance. The bottle made its rounds among the party when Rafael collected it from Diziara as she danced past.

Boq was soon released to his friends again, and the music turned up. People clustered into groups that drifted together and apart slowly. Diziara walked about, listening on this conversation and that, occasionally adding a comment here or there as she went until she noticed that the arch had appeared and Rafael Castillo was currently standing at it in such a manner to block someone else's entrance into the holodeck.

"No sir, everything's under control, sir," Rafael was insisting, his arms crossed and looking down. Diziara frowned as she heard this, and headed over to see what was going on. As she got closer, her frown deepened and she growled.

"What the hell do you want?" she demanded, hand on her hip as she came to a stop next to Rafael. The taller man turned to look at her as her piercing gaze was firmly locked on the blue disturbance that was making a half assed attempt at filling the archway out to the corridor.

"You! Are. Creating. A. Disturbance!" Therav snapped, his antennae pointing at her in an accusatory fashion. She laughed.

"There is not a soul in any of the adjacent compartments, quarters or labs," she shot back, taking a step forward and moving into his personal space. He looked up at her, but not in any manner that implied any inequality, unless it was on her part. "Besides, I borrowed Giannini for the night, in order to tell me if we were violating some rule that I forgot about." Therav took a step into the holodeck, brushing past her with a grumble deep in his throat as if her last statement was an invitation. When he spotted his underling, bottle of beer in hand and talking to a woman in a string bikini, he made a noise in the back of his throat. "Unofficially, of course. He wouldn't dream of drinking on duty," she added, though her tone came across heavily sarcastic.

"Of course," Therav muttered, clearly missing the implication of her tone of voice. Rafael couldn't help laughing a little, to which Diziara grinned and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Giannini, tell your boss man everything's kosher," Diziara yelled over her shoulder. Giannini's attention quickly turned to the group at the entrance into the holodeck, and suddenly he stood straight upright, beer bottle hidden behind his back.

"I'm not the one who calls him boss," Giannini returned, drawing a giggle from Diziara. "Pukey probably wouldn't have been able to get Kitty's permission to come, even if we'd wanted him here... for some strange reason." Diziara crossed her arms, and waited, even as Therav grumbled at Giannini's statement. "Right, um... holodeck reservation's in order, Sir. All the neighboring compartments are empty at this time of the night, thus avoiding any concerns of noise complaints, and everyone here is off duty, so reasonable alcohol consumption is not against regs. Sir." Giannini topped his report off with a salute, drawing a laugh from both Diziara and Rafael.

"And, in case someone does go overboard, we have two medical personnel on hand, volunteering in their off duty hours, of course. Ensign Michaels and Crewman Trippett," Diziara added, indicating Eddie and AJ who had taken up with Grace and her crew. Therav's gaze followed to where Diziara indicated, and his antennae twitched. "Unless there is something I missed, which I very sincerely doubt, there is no reason for you to continue to disturb my bonding exercise with my fighter squadron."

"Bonding exercise?" He seemed surprised and irritated to hear Diziara call it that.

"It's going better than bowling did," she returned. At this he growled again, turned, and marched out of the holodeck.

"What's eating him?" Rafael demanded.

"Eh, Noelle's probably working doubles again or some shit," Diziara dismissed, and turned her back on the arch as it faded out of view again. "I'm in the mood for body shots. Anyone else game? Giannini, get your tight ass over here and take some body shots." Rafael laughed as Giannini was quick to collect something ice cold and high proof to arrive at Diziara's side with. "I'd offer to let you play, but I can only assume your girlfriend might not be happy with it," Diziara directed at Rafael.

"Giannini can take my share of the body shots. Someone's gotta stay sober in case the blue terror returns." Diziara laughed, taking the bottle of alcohol from Giannini.

As more alcohol was consumed, people started to relax and enjoy themselves. Silly bets were exchanged, feats of skill and stupidity occurred and overall it was clear everyone was enjoying themselves. Diziara eventually sat down to observe for a bit, and Rafael noticed, joining her.

"Seems like this is going well," he observed, sitting on the table next to her. She nodded, and took another sip of her purple drink. "What's that?"

"Something Spiegel introduced me to, calls it a Succubus Napalm. Here, try it." She held out her glass and Rafael shook his head.

"I saw you fill more than half that glass with Romulan Ale, it'll leave me flat on my ass."

"You've become a lightweight since the Remington," she teased, waving the glass under his nose. He finally growled, snatching the glass from her, and took a sip. She giggled when he shook his head quickly after swallowing, and handed the glass back to her.

"The sugary shit will kill you," he insisted, and she smirked as she took another sip. "Our party on Remington wasn't anywhere near this good."

"I had to wait until I got a feel for Khazara before I started pulling out the contraband to share. Even if people don't drink it, they have a tendency to let their hair down if there is illegal shit present, usually means you can get away with more."

"That's right, you actually cared what Khazara thought of you... and now you have Johnson-"

"If you go down the Admiral's pet path, I will kick your ass for all our squadron to see. I'm sure AJ and Eddie can patch you up well enough you can still perform your duties when I'm done with you." Even as she said this, she grinned wide, and Rafael shook his head.

"You are fucking insane," he told her, reaching over to grab a beer from the bucket at the end of the table. "We need to start sparring again. I've missed that."

"What happened to staying sober in case of any further blue harassments?" she asked, taking the beer bottle from him. She caught the cap in the opener attached to the table, and handed it back to Rafael after a quick twist of her wrist to open it.

"Usually he comes back within an hour if he's going to be a repeat pest. We're probably good now. Besides, if he believes that Giannini's here to serve in an advisory capacity, he likely won't waste his time in trying to nail us, as he'll assume either we will play by the rules, or we'll cover our tracks with our inside man."

"He seems to take perverse pleasure in harassing me though. Did I tell you about how he shot me in the back?"

"You've told everyone about that, well, everyone you can without actually filing a report on the incident. He'd probably get hung for that, if you turned him in." Rafael took a swig of his beer, and Diziara sipped her Succubus Napalm.

"You know, I didn't even think of that. But I don't see the fleet having the proper resolution. He insulted my honor, I don't give a flying fuck if he violated regs, or not, in doing so. Hell, you know me, when have I given a fuck about the regs other than how the punishment might cramp my style?" She gestured with her drink as she said this, and Rafael shook his head slowly, with the occasional sip of his beer.

"Quite honestly, I'm surprised they haven't washed you out of the fleet, with how much of chaos follows in your wake. Don't get me wrong, I like the chaos, but I know the brass doesn't."

"They did dump me on 668, should have ended my career there. That was my assignment before this one. I still don't fully understand how I managed to get out of there, but I know Johnson was involved in it."

"Which explains why you get so defensive whenever someone so much as jokes about you being his pet. There's something off about him, leaves me with the hairs standing up on the back of my neck sometimes."

"You noticed that too, huh? Did you meet that guy he had with him last time he was here, Voralis Cryn?" Rafael shook his head at this question, and Diziara took another drink before she continued. "If you think Johnson sets off your radar, you should try staring down Cryn. Spook job if I ever met one. He and Johnson are pretty buddy buddy, and it's not clear who's working for who, even if Johnson appeared to be the one giving the orders." The two of them sat in silence, watching the rest of the party until Giannini walked up.

"I really should call it a night, but I was kind of hoping..." he said to Diziara. She laughed.

"Kind of hoping to get fucked tonight?" she finished for him, and he glanced at Rafael.

"No worries man, I've been there before. Would go there again if my girlfriend wasn't so great," Rafael said with a chuckle. Giannini turned back to Diziara.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, grinning wide. Rafael chuckled again, and Diziara shook her head as she clicked her tongue.

"What have I told you about calling me ma'am?" she demanded, then emptied her drink. Giannini hung his head. "Go wait for me in my quarters, I have to make sure everyone gets back to their quarters okay when we clear out. Then I'll punish you, and if you're good, I'll fuck you when I'm done with that." Giannini grinned again, and hurried off. Diziara jumped off the table, and Rafael stood with her.

"We have to do this again when we have leave for the whole ship the next day, so we don't have to cut it off so early next time," Rafael told her, as they strode towards the middle of the party.

"You're only saying that because you offered to take one for the team and work the morning after shift," she chastised him, provoking a grin. The party had pretty much wound down by this point, and everyone noticed as Diziara and Rafael had stopped in the middle of the group. A few words were said, she eyed her underlings carefully, and finally dismissed them. They started filtering out the doors in pairs and groups until she and Rafael were the only ones left behind. They collected the alcohol from the minibar, and put it into a bag for her to carry back to her quarters. When they parted ways at the turbolift, she gave him a hug and insisted she had to meet his girlfriend at some point.

From: ScrubMonkey772
Date: 58168.07
Subject: Proof.

Okay. I know for a fact that Lt. Lucas Gabriel Spiegel is the most skilled, smoothest ladies' man that has ever lived in recent times.

Just trust me. I know.

From: DamageControl1011
Date: 58168.07
Subject: re: Proof.

He made you switch teams, AJ?

From: ScrubMonkey772
Date: 58168.07
Subject: re: re: Proof.

No, no, no. If he can get the unlayable laid, what's that say?


From: EnlightenedPeon551
Date: 58168.07
Subject: Shan being weird (was re: Proof.)

I think it's true. The unlayable being our own Chief Tactical Officer. Only explanation I can think of, for the blue one's weird behavior lately. While my colleague was sitting at his console, Shan motors straight for him... barking... "YOU! What are YOU doing here!"
"Calibrating the sensors, sir."
"Keep up the good work!" then he claps him hard on the shoulder and stalks off.

This happened. I SAW it.

From: DamageControl1011
Date: 58168.07
Subject: re: Shan being weird

Shan being weird? That has another explanation.

From: ScrubMonkey772
Date: 58168.07
Subject: Spiegel's the MAN! (was: re: Shan being weird)

Nope. It doesn't. He was seen leaving Spiegel's quarters. Which means. Spiegel's firm hand of guidance has laid the unlayable.

Show of hands, please? Do YOU want to sleep with Shan? Anyone? See? I proved my point.

From: DamageControl1011
Date: 58168.07
Subject: re: Spiegel's the MAN!

No, Shan just has a little problem. He left Spiegel's quarters DRUNK. And rumor has it he showed up for some major debriefing drunk.

I'd say his habit is getting the better of him.


From: ScrubMonkey772
Date: 58168.07
Subject: Spiegel! (was: re: Spiegel's the MAN!)

Nah. Spiegel's just a Casanova with mad skillz. I know, it was hard for *me* to believe at first.

I saw him cockblock Shan at a party. Shan must've decided to benefit from his tutelage... and not hate the player, but hate the game.

I've heard that our esteemed engineer has grown quite in demand...