Episode 8


Revelations


Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

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Chapter 1

{Ten Forward, deck 9 level}

Priscilla walked around the tasteful lounge, recalling the wonderful sense of it she had when she first saw how well the double level design had turned out. She headed over to the railing at the centermost of the room and leaded against it, looking down. Her mind wandered for a few minutes, from present to past to wondering about the future.

Just then she saw doors swish open, as if revealing an answer to her unspoken question.

Freeman came strolling into Ten Forward whistling 'Fanfare for a Common Man', sliding into a seat by the larger gallery windows at the front of the room. He wasn't sitting long before he noticed Captain Myst standing on the level above him. He waved immediately, a grin creeping across his face.

Priscilla waved back, a smile crossing her face in unconscious response to her Operation Officer's seemingly jubilant mood. She headed for the closest set of stairs and made her way down to say hello and see what had made him so happy.

"Howdy. Um I mean hello sir," he said cheerfully, rising to his feet. He adjusted his jacket, and offered his hand.

"Good evening,-" Priscilla began, shaking his hand, and seeming like she was going to call him by his first name but instead ending with: "You seem to be having a good time."

"Oh, yeah I guess I am. I'm alive right?" he replied, sitting down after she did. "Hey, can I get you something?" he asked a second later, his own craving for something to drink manifesting in his stomach.

"Absolutely," she replied looking towards the bar. "Since you're 'buying', what do you recommend?"

"Coca Cola," he replied matter of factly. "It's great stuff... it comes in these neat looking bottles." A moment later he pushed himself to his feet. "So what'll it be?"

"Coca Cola sounds wonderful," she replied with a light laugh.

"Allllrighty then," he answered with a smile, walking off to the bar and ordering the drinks.

A second later he returned with the two old fashioned bottles of Coca Cola, setting them down on two coasters. A second later he slipped into his seat again, looking out to the stars.

Priscilla followed his gaze and let the moment hang for a minute, then reached out for the bottle nearest her and took a sip. "So tell me, Lieutenant," she began softly. "You've been on board two and a half months now. What do you think?"

"I don't know sir... this is a very different place than the Ambassador. The crew seems to be very accomplished... but distant," he replied gently, looking at his own bottle a long moment before taking a sip.

"I like the ship... but it's hard to relate with a crew that seems to be focused on some sort of internal turmoil... and I've been dying to ask: Did something happen on this ship to make it that way?" His eyes traveled up to eye the Captain gently.

She listened carefully, nursing her cola a bit as he spoke. His last question sent her mind thinking back along the last year for the umpteenth time that day. Her head began to bob slightly, a wistful look crossing her face. "There was something... early on. Perhaps we tried to heal too quickly..."

"Please go on... sir," Gordon requested gently, settling into his seat, propping his chin up on his hands as he leaned on the table.

Priscilla snapped out of her memory-lane trance and fixed her eyes on him. A small smile crept to her face. She looked down at the bottle she was holding, eyeing it for a moment before taking a swig. Then she firmly placed it on the table before her. "Our second mission was to search for the USS Goddard," she started the story as if it were a routine for such simple beginnings to end spectacularly. "Little did we know when we finally found her that we had already been affected by the same phenomenon that crippled that ship's crew for over a week."

Freeman only nodded in reply, listening intently to the story of his ship's past.

"What kind of phenomenon is that sir?" he asked curiously, taking another idle sip of his soda, tracing out the lettering molded into the cool glass.

A passing glance revealed the stars shining brilliantly outside before his attention settled on the Captain again.

She looked back up at Gordon. "Imagine you heart's greatest desire being granted..." she told him with a touch of awe.

"My hearts greatest desire... wow. What happened?" he asked with some anxiety, wanting to hear more of the story.

She nodded, looking kindly upon him. Suddenly her mood darkened, moving to the opposite end of the spectrum. "Now imagine your absolute worst fears realized."

His own mood darkened, images of charred screaming crewman and explosions flowing past... Jem'Hadar soldiers... telegrams home. A deep frown etched his now stony face. "Go on...," he urged, still curious.

Her face softened again. "I'm sorry for that. Just trying to help you understand." She took another sip, then returned to her story telling mode. "About half the crew experienced the first while dreaming. But they were dreams *so real* you didn't even know that you were sleeping."

He only nodded in reply. The story began to engulf his attention, and he took another sip of his now half empty Coca Cola.

"About half experienced the latter as waking nightmares. Again so real you couldn't help but react as if you were actually in that time and situation, because in all practical respects... you were. A couple of us even experienced both. And some simply lost all knowledge of their training and abilities."

"Fascinating..." Gordon muttered, mulling over the situation in his head. "What became of it all sir?"

"Well, we're still here," she said with a small laugh and a mock toast with her bottle. "But seriously. The experiences left deep wounds. Some in the form of reopened scars, some as the depression of realization that your life is not at all what you want it to be."

He only nodded in reply at first. "That does explain a little bit. Did Starfleet medical have anything to say about it?"

She looked over his shoulder and out to the stars. "Starfleet Medical could offer nothing more than sending temporary support staff for Commander Daem. And as they hoped, either with counseling or somehow on their own, many of the crew and civilians found solace in the fact that the nightmares were in fact not real, or found a new resolve to achieve their life's desires for real. But there are enough that still hurt, I think."

"I'd imagine so...." he answered, voice trailing off slightly. "Must have been pretty rough for the ship."

He picked up his bottle and took a long pull.

She focused back on Gordon, her look indicating the story was not yet done. "Starfleet Intelligence had a mouthful to say though. And the Corps of Engineers."

"I've been in the fleet a long time... but that's a story you don't hear often. What did intel and the engineers have to say?"

"After we tried an inhibitor for the phenomenon we came face to face with another shock. It turned out that an alien race from beyond one of the galactic barriers was using a micro wormhole to transmit the phenomenon. And they could expand the micro wormhole to macro size, in fact large enough to fit a ship through. So naturally both groups are highly intrigued. Intelligence is currently crawling all over the scans and logs from both ships, while the Corps are crawling all over the micro wormhole trying to figure out if they can operate it also."

"Wow... I bet the guys at MIT are going nuts over this..." he mused, thinking back. He returned his attention to the discussion. "I guess things haven't been the same since then huh?"

Priscilla nodded and drank the last of her cola. "Well, not that they were all that established, that mission was only two months after we launched. We had just started to settle into each other, beginning to understand how everyone operated. Things have been tense between some since then, especially with those few officers who actually had their nightmares reinforced on them once we got back."

He nodded in understanding. Picking up his soda, he drained the last of the bottles contents.

"It's hard... trust me I know," he said softly. "I just hope they'll be alright. I don't know because everyone is quiet and withdrawn. Maybe it's just me, but this place seems kinda frigid." He played with the bottle idly, looking out at the stars.

"Mmm, I wouldn't say frigid," Priscilla replied thoughtfully. "People open up when you find how to talk to them. If you can master that trick, I think you'll find there's a wealth of caring inside most of us."

"I'm trying.... but when nobody bothers to say more than hello it's tough. But, this is just my latest challenge I suppose, and I know I can crack this nut," he answered with a grin. "I kinda like this ship... just gotta start fitting in."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Priscilla smiled. "I know," she said suddenly, a gleam shining in her eyes. "Why don't you and Commander Daem plan a party? Invite whoever you want to get to know. The crew tends gets very social in large groups."

He grinned. "Been awhile since I was at a real sailor mans party. And well heck, I just as soon as invite everyone!" He nodded happily. "I'll talk to her about it right away. Seems like a few of my crewmates could use a cheering up too. Thanks for the good idea Skipper."

Priscilla grinned and tipped her empty bottle at him. "You're more than welcome. Just don't call me that in front of the others," she warned him with mock seriousness. Then she laughed.

He laughed in reply, feigning injury. "Jeeze... the fleet has changed... I remember back in the day..." He wasn't able to finish before he started laughing again.

Now Priscilla was fully laughing. "Don't start with me 'young man'! Why I was... listening to my Grandfather tell stories about Starfleet while you were still in diapers!"

"Sure grandma!" he choked out, nearly knocking his bottle over. "I must have been in the crib across from yours... but I was too busy dodging hungry dinosaurs to listen to grampa!"

Priscilla caught the bottle before it fell, still laughing. She looked around, then shook her head at herself and with a sigh forced herself to stop laughing. (Remember, you're Captain now, not XO. Got to maintain some semblance of professionalism in public,) she thought to herself.

"Anyhow... I'm going to take the advice and talk to Daem," he finished, calming himself as he smoothed his jacket. He set the bottle back in it's place, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Oh and Captain? I don't think anyone saw that uncaptainly outburst." He added with a slight chuckle.

She smiled back at him. "It's been nice talking to you- Gordon," she said to him and then stood. "I should be continuing my tour. Thank you very much for the wonderful laugh!"

"Hey, that's what I'm for Captain. Nice talking to you too, try not to work to hard," he replied, rising to his feet.

She nodded in reply. "I'm looking forward to the party. Until then, Lieutenant," she gave him an old fashioned salute, then winked. "Carry on."

He snapped one back just as crisply. "Aye sir." He smiled before making his way out of the lounge and back down the corridors, wandering about for someone else to talk to.


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Chapter 2

Jaquelle sat down at her desk ready to make decisions on her time for the rest of the week. She had specifically kept this day light because she knew that after reviews came out there would be people who either thought they were going to get something that they did not, or who misread something about what was written. She wanted to be able to talk with them immediately.

The first thing she looked for was to see if Freeman's review had come from the Ambassador. She had been informed that since he was on the Ambassador for more time then the Griffin that they would be doing the review. She had been promised it two weeks ago. A week ago she had sent a reminder. Jaquelle was a stickler on getting things done when promised. Knowing the misunderstandings that come from these type of things, she noted that she needed to talk with Freeman today. Besides, now that she was second in command, it would be good for her to become familiar with how the ship runs. She should know how Freeman schedules the operations and how Ivanof prepares the personnel schedule.

Jaquelle also knew that she had to talk with Lt. Commander Sable. Jaquelle had just talked with Captain Myst about how Sable reacted when she was not given the second in command position. Myst's view was that she had taken it badly. While Sable knew she was not officially the second, as long as no one was put in that position she was third in command. Now she was not.

As was her usual policy before talking with people, Jaquelle reviewed both Sable's and Freeman's profile to see if anything had changed or if there was something she had just missed.


{Operations Office}

-Chime of door-

Freeman looked up from his padd,

"Come." Jaquelle came in.

"Oh good, you must have talked to the Captain," Freeman said.

"No, ...is there something I should know?" Jaquelle responded.

"Oh, yes, yes, Counselor," he said. "Or, Commander, or Doctor..."

"Or Jaquelle or Halle... any of the above. I respond to them all and I have no preference." Jaquelle said.

"Halle?" Freeman said.

"Oh, that's a name my Grandfather use to call me. Said it reminded him of a woman he dated centuries ago when he visited earth. She was an actress. I pulled up a holo picture of her one day and other than our skin color, I really don't think I look anything like her. There is a fraction of my family who calls me that. But I digress," she paused and waited for him to complete his discussion.

"The captain said that you and I could plan a party," Freeman continued.

"Really," Jaquelle responded (Pigs, now parties), Jaquelle thought, (and just when I thought I was being taken seriously.)

"What kind of a party?" Jaquelle asked.

"A Sailor Man's party!" Freeman responded. I'll do all the planning, you just have to 'Make it so'," he said in an official voice. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I came to let you know that I was told not to do your review because it was being done on the Ambassador. I have tried to nudge them along, but it's not here yet. Sorry."

"No problem," Freeman said. "I really didn't expect it."

"Also, I would like to schedule some time for you to brief me on how you control operations around here, I figure I should at least know the basics." Jaquelle went on.

"No problem, again" Freeman responded.

"Okay, that was easy," she said.

"Now, I couldn't help but notice on your personnel file that you have this thing about age. Do you really think you are old?" she queried.

"Well, I'm thirty-three and just a Lieutenant. Surrounded by children," he laughs. "It's incredible how young the fleet is now. It seems to me before the war, average ages were higher. Now I seem just a little out of place," he said honestly.

"Hum, I'll have to look into that. Anyway, for this ship you will find a good mix. The Captain is several years older than you, as is the first officer. And both only attained their positions a year ago. I am only thirty, but last year I was just promoted from Lieutenant J.G., to Lieutenant.

"I guess I got lucky this year, right history, right time, right place. The ship needed a counselor right out of dry dock and I was here. We also needed other positions such as yours and we really didn't have many people applying. Maybe it was the shortage of people due to the war. Maybe people shy away from an old ship, refitted, preferring one of the new ones, or an old one tried and true, you know, always known for getting her crew home," Jaquelle continued.

"Or maybe it was your philosophy, and the Captain and the First Officer were just too old for all those "children" out there."

"So are you trying to reassure me because I am still just a Lieutenant?" Freeman asked.

"No," responded Jaquelle. "I've seen your record. You are a good solid, talented officer. When you decide what you want to grow up to be, you will move on up the line," she said with a joking little smile.


{Counseling Office: 45 minutes later}

Jaquelle sat at her desk just finishing up a memo to Commander Ivanof. (This looks good,) she thought. (A request for a morale officer and a host for ten forward with job descriptions. Maybe then I can concentrate on being the counselor, the second officer and emergency medical personnel without having to plan parties and take care of pigs.)


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Chapter 3

Addendum's to profile 093454:
Entered Stardate 55657.3

Doctor Leslie Fairgood, 2377: "During the preliminary investigation into the destruction of the NX Prometheus and the subsequent court martial of the commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Ryan Sable, it was my duty to psychologically assess Sable and later provide moral support per say during the trail. Over the short time that I have known this Starfleet officer, I have noticed things both advantageous and detrimental to her character and eventually her career. For purposes of guidance for not only Sable, but future counselors that will have contact with her, I fill focus on the detrimental here in."

"Sable is very guarded with her emotions and her past. She prefers to bury it, to busy herself in an effort to keep from thinking about it, and firmly restrains from speaking of it. Even when pressed to discuss it, she will do her best to remain shallow and even redirect the topic entirely. She finds complaining rude and disrespectful, though this value is a double standard as she welcomes others without reservation to complain if they so feel the need. I would define her as reserved, but friendly and sincerely caring. And state with emphasis, that Sable's tendency to bury issues is severely wearing on her strength and will.

"Unlike many of my previous 'patients' she never employed sarcasm, she found this quite inappropriate. It surprised me as well when she failed to employ the defense many employ when faced with unwanted counseling. And I was doubly surprised to find that Sable deemed such an evasion disrespectful and rude. She was willing to speak with me, being very direct and succinct--though she did her best to avoid those issues I sense must trouble her deeply--and she seemed compassionate as well."

"What I think surprised me the most is the obvious differences between her career and character. When I first read her record I noticed that her career appeared to climb rather quickly. But in stark contrast Commander Sable is not ambitious or head strong as I had first assumed from her profile, and becoming the youngest commander or most accomplished Starfleet officer was never her goal. I am convinced it was not her intention to rise so quickly though the ranks, but that it occurred as a side-effect of her dedication and skill."

"Unfortunately, for her, work has also become a distraction to keep from thinking. And her recent response to her court martial is not arrogance, but a consequence of loosing what Starfleet entrusted to her. She felt very duty bound and responsible for the Prometheus and crew and worked hard to ensure their safety. And when she lost it, she also thought she saw that Starfleet had lost faith in her."

"In short, she had command thrust upon her... she did not seek after it. And loosing, it is rumored, was like a replay of some terrible unmentioned thing that had happened years before. In truth, Starfleet has not lost faith in her--indeed, if they had, her position with Starfleet would have been terminated. But they see that she has lost faith in herself to operate at her best and protect what is entrusted with her."

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Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Rustle Conyers, 2378:

"To: Counseling Staff, USS Griffin."

"From: Admiral Rustle Conyers"

"Recently I have engaged in a dialog with Lieutenant Commander Ryan Sable, your Chief CONN officer. From what I heard, I feel I must write this for the sake of her career, and hopeful insight into simple understanding."

"Lieutenant Commander Sable's career has been a good one. She graduated with the only Lieutenant Junior Grade ranking from her Academy class, and through dexterity and unequaled skill in her field at the time, rose to the rank of Lieutenant Commander."

"In the past month, I have become aware that she was recently passed up for promotion. This topic will be the body of my notice to you."

"Lieutenant Commander Sable is the product of a rushed Starfleet career. As you are aware, we do not usually promote officers so fast for several reasons. However, Sable WAS promoted quickly, and this has led me to fear that this was because of unbridled ambition on Starfleet's part. Command and responsibility were placed upon her, not sought by her."

"It is my firm belief she would be just as happy as an Ensign. But this is not the case, and things are different. Up until the Prometheus incident, this was no problem. When the Prometheus was lost, circumstances changed."

"When she was reassigned to the Griffin as CONN officer, this was taken as a personal blow. Not because she wasn't promoted, but because she sees the loss of the Prometheus and the associated responsibilities as a failure, amplified by her reposting. I believe she sees it as a lack of faith on the Fleet's part in her."

"She saw herself as responsible for the crew and ship she was entrusted with, and rightly so. However, it was deemed it wasn't her fault. The only reason she's not in a command track position is the loss of faith in herself. She not only saw the loss of her ship, but the supposed loss of the Federation's confidence in her."

"This lack of confidence is one of the only reasons she has been placed where she is. As a result, it has appeared to wear on her spirits. The feelings of a lack of trust are deep running, along with the painful memories of what happened. In order to avoid confronting the problem and coming to a sense of closure as she should, she buries the pain in her work. When confronted, she'll change or attempt to change the subject. It is this officer's opinion that this can no longer occur. If the wounds are left to fester, amputation may be necessary."

"And that brings me to the latest weeks. The recent promotions on the Griffin have magnified the feelings she carries of not being trusted anymore. Being passed over to her was just confirmation of the trust she thinks she lost. She'll never openly admit this, but nevertheless it's plain as day."

"For Lieutenant Commander Sable, I believe it can be likened to being built up so quickly, then having the rug pulled out from under her. She's adrift in a sea of her own emotions, and fears. This is not detrimental to her duty as an officer, in fact it may improve her performance. However it's going to wear her to nothing soon if these ghosts aren't put to rest in the past were they belong."

"In conclusion, I believe that Lieutenant Commander Sable should begin a dialog with a counseling figure, but not in an immediately official way. It has to be started on her terms, or it will only do harm. She's more than capable of carrying out her duties -- for now. But the problem cannot be left alone any longer."

"Sincerely,
Admiral Rustle Conyers"

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{Quarters of Ryan Sable}

Ryan studied the stars carefully, taking in the light of each one with special care or so it would seem to the preoccupied passing observer. In truth, her mind was fixedly intent on more internal concerns. Sometime had passed since her disappointment over recent changes on the Griffin, and her frustration had quickly dissipated, replaced only by a small pinching sense of loss. And though the feelings were true and sincere, they were strongly distinctive from what many would consider regular, and would perhaps be misunderstood, as the cover of the life she had lead until now could lean on the misleading. Her frustration was for that which she had hoped to regain, and the loss for that which she now felt for sure was lost to her forever. And that thing which she placed so much importance on, and so much of her happiness as well, could perhaps be known as ambition, but not as an ambition for recognition or glory, neither rank or command. Rather it was a for a sense of trust she felt no longer existed between her and those she served with. The sense that her worth to Starfleet had come to a bitter end, and she had once again been unable to fight the battle, and had lost those things important to her as had occurred more than once before ...

The monitor on her desk beeped soberly, and a moment passed before Ryan turned to see the cause of it. Slowly she sat at the desk and opened a recently received message. It was from Counselor Daem, requesting Ryan's presence in her office in approximately forty-five minutes. Ryan nodded to herself as she read it, then replied with a similar message of acknowledgment, neither resentful or irritated by the prospect of the visit. She was merely reluctant, knowing only that she could not give what Counselor Daem would desire--a narrative of her problems and feelings, though the latter would already be somewhat clear to the empath. Such a display of things that she purposefully buried had always been, and always would be beyond difficult and uncomfortable.

Ask most to cross to the other side of a ravine of fire for the water on the other side, and they will only to complain for gain of pity for burns, or become difficult and vindictive. Ask others to do the same, and they will refrain. How then do you get both to cross to the other side? Get them a taste of the water ...


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Chapter 4

{Griffin - Lt. Travin's Quarters}

"...could explain the universal themes running through legends from such diverse locations."

"...could explain the universal themes running through legends from such diverse locations."

"...could explain the universal themes running through legends from such diverse locations."

Rinali stood up with a grunt of agitation, shut the sizable tome labeled "The Eternal Myth", and set it neatly back on the bookshelf. Her occasional inability to get past a single sentence fragment in her reading generally meant it was time to put the book down and figure out what was really on her mind. Rinali knelt down and sat cross-legged on the floor, her customary position for meditation. Of course, true deep meditation required clearing the mind of thought, but Rinali found that a less intensive version was helpful for getting at problems.

It didn't take long to figure out what was bothering her now. Between her reflections on the occasion of her one year anniversary aboard the Griffin and the recent announcement of a party planned for tonight, Rinali had been giving much more consideration than usual to her relationships with the other crew members, or lack thereof. The losses suffered by the Griffin since she came aboard had seemed particularly painful on the ship's anniversary. The feeling that she had failed these people was starting to subside, but it would always be there and Rinali didn't want to lose it. These remnants of guilt would drive her on in the future, make her more careful, more aware, more determined. But the more personal sense of loss was not leaving Rinali. Those who had died on the Griffin were not just people under Rinali's protection, but people who had come and gone without Rinali truly knowing who they were. She grimaced as she realized that she had failed these people not only in their final hour, but throughout their time aboard the Griffin.

So there was the problem laid bare. Rinali had told herself that she was maintaining a professional distance from the rest of the crew for any number of reasons. But now it seemed clear that she was doing both herself and her shipmates a disservice. Security, she thought slowly, was more than simply protecting a ship and its people from physical injury. Security was a state of mind as well. Security was the knowledge that one was safe, which couldn't be had when one didn't know the protector.

The problem was clear. The solution appeared obvious. But knowing it and enacting it were two different things. Rinali could alter her way with others, but she couldn't change the fact that her demeanor was just not that of a "people person". And even if she could, the result would never be entirely in Rinali's hands. Her success or failure in growing closer to others depended greatly on how they received her attempts. Rinali recalled a quote from an epic poem whose title was momentarily escaping her mind. "I have done all/that it possible for one./The fate of my work now/rests entirely in the hands of others." She had never liked that thought.

Rinali breathed in deeply and felt her more logical self start to take over. Since her time at the Academy, the mental voice with which she worked things out reasonably had spoken in a style not unlike her Vulcan professor. (Relax,) Rinali told herself. (Your entire life doesn't depend on what happens at one party. Just try tonight, try again tomorrow, and keep trying until you succeed.)

Rinali opened her eyes slowly. The party would be starting in about an hour. It was plenty of time, but still Rinali decided to start getting ready. At the very least, she could show up looking presentable.


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Chapter 5

{Chief Engineer's Quarters}

"Incoming message," the computer announced. Scott set down the shirt he was meticulously folding and walked over to his desk.

"Put it through," he said. Victoria's face appeared.

"Hi Scott," she smiled. "Good to see you."

"Hello Tori," Scott replied, unable to keep a smile from his face also. He had finally come to some sort of grip with the idea of vacationing with her on Risa. Actually, he had simply decided it was a good opportunity to get some things off his mind and get some advice that only someone like Victoria would be able to give him.

"Bad news, I'm afraid," she said with a sigh.

"Oh?"

"They made me Chief Engineer of the Starbase," she informed him with a shrug, "and this place is a mess. I'm not leaving it for at least two weeks, especially with how close to the Romulan Neutral Zone we are. Sorry Scott, I have to cancel the trip."

He looked over at the nearly packed bag on his couch. "Not a problem," he replied flatly. "I wasn't even prepared yet."

"Not exactly the resounding sigh of relief I was expecting given how you reacted when I invited you," Victoria observed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," was his only response as he looked back to her with his standard emotionless face.

"Liar," she countered.

He simply raised an eyebrow.

"I've seen that face enough times in the mirror to know you're just blocking your emotions," she said, crossing her arms.

"Perhaps," he acquiesced.

"Come on Scott, what gives? I promise I'll take you rock climbing some other time, and you know you can call me any time of the day or night to talk shop."

"I know," he replied with a sigh, and sat down in front of the monitor.

"Uh oh... what's her name?"

Scott's head snapped up. "What?!?"

Victoria shrugged. "I haven't a clue. That's just what I see other people say in response to actions like yours."

Scott eyed her warily, wondering if she and his Captain might actually have more in common than they let on. Finally he shrugged also. "I need some advice."

"Ah, I see," Victoria said with a nod. She reached to something off screen and fiddled for a moment. "We're on a secure channel now, what's going on?"


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