Dreaming in Stereo I

 Episode Name:  Dreaming in Stereo I

   Written By:  Grey

         Cast:  Anastasia, Daren, Grey, Hurley, Lopez, Nabrun, Takamura and Valentine.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Grey

     Aired On:  Thu Feb 03 03:01:19 2005

     Stardate:  54727.1

Time: Sat Jan 29 11:00:42 2005

Stardate: 54715.9

Images slowly swirl into being as a hallway forms before you. Its a Starfleet ship, no doubt, but its not Station 419. Its not the Aegis or the Thomas Paine either. Its brighter, newer. Its different. You're different. You can feel it right away and then you notice something. Your cuffs aren't gold, they're red.

Valentine falters mid-step, pausing to look around. "Okay, that's odd..." Her gaze drawn by an oddity on her sleeve, her gaze pauses there. "Whoa..." She backs slowly, pressing her back to a wall as her mind goes into a whirl of analysis.

. o O Valentine thinks, "... not Tak's uniform. Fits too well. What the heck..."

For a long moment nothing changes. The hallway is empty and silent, except for the soft hum of the ship. Then suddenly your combadge chirps, intense and sudden.

Valentine jumps a little, glancing down at her self even as her hand automatically reaches for the badge. She stops it at the last second, then lets the gesture continue. Combadges are like Mom- you answer when they call or you get in trouble. "Ens... Valentine here."

. o O Valentine thinks, "Okay, maybe we can get some answers now. Heh. Riiiiiight, Tara. Nothing is ever that easy."

"Commander? Report? You should have gotten to Engineering by now. You're needed there," says the voice, gruff and female and depending like a senior officer.

Valentine /blinks/. She reaches up to feel the pips on her collar even as she glances around frantically for some sign of where she is on the... ship? Station? "Sorry, sir, just about there now. Had a little trip and fall."

. o O Valentine thinks, "Commander?!?"

Her fingers find not the one solid pip she would noramlly expect, but three solid pips. Commander's pips. Eyes find the information she's looking for. Deck 31, Section 17. "Good, Mister Valentine. We've got lives on the line."

"Aye, sir. Valentine out." A tap to terminate the conversation, and a frantic, "Computer, direct me to Engineering!" Thinking back for a second, she takes off in the direction she was originally headed, keeping an eye on placards. Still, her mind manages to offer the immaterial and irrelevant.

. o O Valentine thinks, "Looks like I managed the LOE eventually. Hope Mac was there to see it."

The computer responds, "Main Engineering is located on Deck 31, Section 25. Battle Engineering is located on Deck 40, Section 37." And there, ahead as she moves, are the doors to engineering. Even as she moves memories start to flood in, memories of tests, of problems, of other ships and of battles. Too many battles. The memories of a lifetime, swirling into her mind.

Valentine staggers slightly in shock, but she keeps moving grimly into her favorite section, thrusting aside questions for now. Or at least, irrelevant ones. "Report!" That's always a nice, safe way to find out what the heck is going on.

. o O Valentine thinks, "Tara 'Rip Van Winkle' Valentine, reporting."

A man with Lieutenant's pips standing near the Warp Core, which is set on its side in this ship, turns at Valentine's command. "Sir, we're trying to get the Core back online, but its not coming up from the diagnostics." And that settles a memeory in place. The USS Corinada, your ship, is in dry dock doing hardware upgrades. Captain Sternbach hailed about some sort emergency that required the Corinada leaving dry dock.

Valentine turns to move to the panels that control the core to check over status readings and bring up more. Deuterium flow. Antimatter flow. Valve diameters. Reactant injectors. EPS power taps. Dilithium scan. "C'mon, baby," she breathes, addressing the ship. Slightly louder, she mutters, "Murphy's Law, Lieutenant. When you're in dry dock, an emergency /will/ occur." The most basic Engineering principle of all.

. o O Valentine thinks, "Bringing up a core is /not/ that bloody difficult. Something very, very wrong here."

"Sir? It was your adjustments to the EPS power taps. We can't calibrate them to accept the power coming from the reaction chamber," he says hesitantly. No wonder, he's got to tell a superior officer she broke something. "We blew out several EPS conduits we we tried. Benson and Hendrick are replacing them."

Valentine pauses, and looks around slowly at him. Just... looks at him, for a few seconds. "Estimated time til they finish?"

. o O Valentine thinks, "Way to /go/, Tara. Break the ship. You must have /talent/." Slight pause. "You are so going to get it for this, girl."

The officer nods to her. "Aye, sir. About 10 minutes. We've got no clue what you did though, so we're not sure what to do without a full recalibration, which will take about 4 hours. We've got to get out of the drydock or the Vulcans will destroy the Chimera." Yes, the TTS Daren, a Timefleet Temporal Vessel that brings nothing but bitter, angry memories to your mind. Not to mention the Vulcans, new galactic warlords. Still there's a sudden need in your mind.

Valentine frowns, nods once, and turns to calibrate the darn things herself. "Computer," she calls, and orders it to release the log of her work on the taps to all engineers so they can see what she did too. After a few seconds, her gaze jerks up and she glances around, then she shakes her head, concentrating on the problem at hand.

. o O Valentine thinks, "Not now, not now. Fix first."

The computer gives out a negative chirp. "Logs classified to Level 8 and locked by Captain Sternbach and Second Officer Valentine." Your memory is fuzzy, yet you remember working with the internal phase interface to increase power output. The need is still there and growing. The need to do something. You can't put your finger on what, but its pulsing softly in the back of your mind."

"Oh for the love of..." Tara reaches up to rub her temple, her other hand still busy on the console. "Lieutenant, scan the internal phase interface for modifications." The hand at her head runs to the back of her neck, rubbing there for a moment, before joining its mate.

. o O Valentine thinks, "What am I forgetting? Aggghhh! You're getting old, Tara. Think!"

Again her combadge chirps, seemingly louder and more intense, even as the Lieutenant gives her a confused look. "Sir? What would those have to do with the problem?" Of course, like a good officer he moves to begin the work even as he asks that. The pulsing slowly moves to throbbing, the need to DO something growing.

Valentine suppresses the urge to punch out a bulkhead. "If I knew that, I would have anticipated this little problem when I was working on it, Lieutenant." A flash of hand to combadge and back to the console. "Working on it, Captain."

The voice from the badge is not female, and erego not the Captain. "Captain? This is Admiral Harmon. Daren needs to be rescued, Commander. The Corinada needs to leave the drydock now! Get it together," snaps the man. The throbbing of need is focusing around the ship, the TTS Daren, now. Its throbbing is heavy and demanding.

Valentine glances upward. "Sorry, Admiral. Aye, sir!" in a suitably chastened voice. It's firmer as she looks around. "You have those scans yet, Lieutenant?" She winces, concentration on the problem getting more and more difficult.

. o O Valentine thinks, "Never assume, Tara. You know the old saying. That's the brass for ya. What the heck do you think I'm doing now, Admiral?... God! What is going on here..." A sudden stab of fear. "Hiro...""

"Sir, the powers tap were put together all wrong. Half the components are backwards. Its like the work of an Ensig... Its, um, wrong, sir," he says, going from confident to quiet as he blunders. As the throbbing in her head gets worse, its almost like she can hear something. "Help us...."

"Then let's /fix/ it, Lieutenant," Tara says impatiently, dismissing the criticism. At least, overtly. Seh looks around quickly, pausing to listen to something.

. o O Valentine cringes. "What the hell was I thinking?!? ... Now I'm hearing things. I have to be. I really, really /have/ to be..."

"You're the only one allowed to adjust the power taps, sir," replies the Lieutantant, glancing to her. There are the voices again. "Help us, please. Help us...." Like the throbbing, they're growing louder and more demanding.

Valentine steps back from the console, the heels of her hands pressing against her temples. "I am, I am! Just give me a minute!" She freezes, then whirls. "With me, Lieutenant. You can still assist me."

. o O Valentine thinks, "Shut up! I can't do it when you're- " An abrupt memory of a ship frozen inside an asteroid, and deja vu strikes with a vengeance. "No! It'll work this time. I can /do/ this!""

The Leiutenant nods and fails into step behind her, looking at her oddly. "Aye, sir." The throbbing need to DO SOMETHING is almost overwhelming now, shuddering through your mind. "Help us, help us now. We need you," is repeating over and over again. On top of everything, your combadge chrips again, still louder and more intense.

Valentine heads off at a dead, unsteady run for the taps. "I know, I know, I-" Her step doesn't falter as she hits the badge again. "WHAT?!?"

. o O Valentine thinks, "Shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup!"

The voices over the combadge cycle through everyone close to her. Each of them repeats the mantra over and over again, "Help us, Tara. Please!" Finally the voice settles into that of a male voice, a new one. "Help me. Help Daren," it says in a thunderous tone.

Valentine's step falters, then she falls to her knees, her hands clapped over her ears. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Just... just..." She lets out a scream of frustration and agony...

"... I'm coming!" And Tara Valentine jerks upright on her couch, gasping for breath, wild-eyed and drenched in sweat. After a few seconds, she looks around at her familiar quarters, and closes her eyes. "Oh thank God..."

Time: Sat Jan 29 13:21:03 2005

Stardate: 54716.1

Lopez lies curled in a ball on her bed. She always sleeps this way, in a tight knot atop her covers, with a throw blanket pulled to her waist-- a fetal ball that looks more uncomfortable than it is, given her special talent. A tee shirt and boxers, wrinkled, rumpled, twisted around her torso. Her hands, bunched in her pillow twitch, twisting just barely in discomfort. Her rest is not really so very restful.

Lost in the embrace of sleep a dream starts, images being to take shape. There's a console in front of her, and out the viewport of the shuttle a planet. Tierra, whispers the cold memory. She's back at Tierra again. She can hear people behind her, moving around. Everything is calm, the calm before the storm.

In dreams there is disorientation. For a moment, her consciousness strains against having been returned to this place... but as it flexes, it accepts. She is in orbit around Tierra again, and filled with foreboding. What was she supposed to remember? Ana turns her head at the console, towards the source of the noises. Her movements feel... fuzzy and sluggish.

There in the shuttle are Takamura, Park, Albertz, Nabrun and Krylow, and that seems right, and yet not. They're getting ready to beam down and you're not. Finally Park looks up, nodding to let you know it time to send them down.

Her hands twitch over the console. Its wrong, something is wrong and she can't remember what! What hasn't she done-- they have their EVAs, they have their pattern boosters, their phasers... But its wrong! What IS it? "Sir," she begins, in uncertain agony, looking at their dear and familiar faces, "-permission to rescan the area before beamdown?"

"Negative Ensign," comes a simple and curt order. "Beam us down, we're late already." There's need in your mind. A need to do something. A need for something forgotten. You can't begin to place it, but its there in the back of your mind.

Ana Lopez of Missions reaches, reaches for the thing that she has forgotten. Her fingers begin to punch in the transporter sequences. Objective monitoring position. That is what she's supposed to be doing, isn't it? "But, Sir, the safety of the team-?"

There is no answer, as the team fades away. There are their signs on your charts, safely transported to the planet surface. Only now there's six of them and like before that seems right, yet not. The new officer's name escapes you. Enron? Eidan? Exida? Its on the tip of your tongue but you can't spit it out. No sonner is the transport done that feeling of need gets more demanding, more important.

Lopez puts her hands to the sides of her head, pressing. "C'mon, c'mon..." she says. And perhaps her physical lips move a bit, working as her dream self struggles. Her throat burns with the tangibility of something mission, something horribly off. "Mission command," she says, opening a frequency. "Mission Command what is your status, over?" All alone, on the Amazon.

There is but silence as no one responds on the other end of the channel. Silence. Deafening silence. Its only made worse by the ache of need running through her mind. The need to DO something.

Lopez repeats her query into the silence, as panic begins to well up. "Mission command, please respond? Away team?" Anybody?

The silence reigns king for several moments before there is hiss, a whisper of a reply. Its broken apart by static, crackling the voice and reply into nothing by garble.

Procedure. What is the damn procedure? "Say again, away team?" she asks, but her fingers are search out patterns on the console. To beam them back. Lives are more important than her career. Something is wrong! Something is wrong and she doesn't know what it is, and her friends are down there, and she HAS to do the right thing if she can only remember what that thing is...

"Repeat, Away team, I'm losing you! Recommend mission scrub, initiating beam up sequences, please, come back?"

"Ensign! Beam us up now! We're under attack. Krylow's dead already and Nabrun's injured! Help us!" comes rupping through the com, suddenly loud and clear. The voice is strange, someone new and differernt. That one officer, that's who it is. With the words the feeling of need comes alive, throbbing in your mind, but your fingers can't get the transporter to work. Something's stopping it.

"No! No, no, no..." cries Ana, as much from grief and frustration as from guilt. She punches again and again into the terminal, overriding, rerouting, seeking for the hole to get them up, get them out of there. Why can't she save them? Isn't that her job? On her bed, in her quarters, sweat begins to bead on her skin, and to chill.

'Help us,' whispers through her mind as time and time again the transporters refuses to respond. Negative beep after negative beep comes from it, almost taunting. Over the coms comes the sounds of projectile weapons, hauntingly famaliar. "Ensign! We're dying. Barana's going to die if you don't beam u.... Oh NO! Hamish is down. Help us!"

"!Caray! Helm, respond!" she shouts. "Going down there," she says, "Gotta be somewhere to land down there. Please, work!" she begs the Amazon with flying hands. Her eyes begin to burn.

Nothing will work. The harder she tries the less the Amazon responds. She succeeds at getting the Amazon moving away from the planet. Over the coms she can hear the battle, more shots and more screams. "They're all dying! Why won't you beam us up? We need you!" comes that strange officer's voice. In her mind she can hear them, her friends whispering, "Help us, help us Ana. We need your help." The voices are insistent, needy.

And in the midst of all the panic, and her rage at being so unable to help, she stares at the terminal, and experiences that moment wherein you realize the words on the LCARS make no sense, at all. Nothing seems familiar. "?Por qui esta sucediendo? (Why is this happening?) Please, please, hang on, I've got to, got to..."

There is no answer to her question, to her prayer, to her deperation. The only answer is the battle coming from the communications channel. "They're all dead. Why wouldn't you help us?" asks the voice, the background noise dying off and the desperation in his voice fading to a cold edge. "Why did you let us die? I needed your help." And while he speaks, in her mind she hears her friends. 'You need to help me, Ana! I need your help, Ana! Help me!' Then silence as everythinng fades. Suddenly they all return, each a distinct member of one sentence spoken together, "Help me, Ana."

Ana's green eyes spring open, filled with helpless tears that are stinging and burning their salty way across her dampened skin. She wakes up with such violence, all her limps shooting out, that she -falls off the bed- and lands with a pronounced thump in a cold but sweaty pile on the floor. "!Huy!" she exclaims, and hisses in alarm and in pain. Thats gona leave a mark. She's shaking, she realizes. Her fingers, until she balls them twitch like dead leaves in a stiff breeze. So she holds her face, and rocks back and forth on the floor.

Time: Sat Jan 29 15:28:44 2005

Stardate: 54716.4

Unlike usual, Barana's not sprawled across the bed, but curled up in a ball on one side, under the covers. It has, apparently, been a slightly rough few days. Trouble is awake, wrapped around Barana's hair, blending with it, purring like a small rusty motor. Soothing. The covers are twisted and, for the moment, draped across Barana's waist.

From the darkness of your sleep a dream begins. At first its nothing but an outline in the dark, of a young woman. The details fill in, a young woman almost 18 with wild, shoulder length curly hair. Her eye's, like her hair, are dark and almost black. Her nose and eyes match Barana's and her checks and mouth, and stance, match Alek's. In the back of your mind you head a whisper of recongition. 'Anastasia.'

A soft smile of maternal pride, though where it comes from is anyone's guess. She watches the young woman, head tilting to the side slightly. Anastasia. Daughter. Alek's daughter.

Details continue to form around them. They're in a room, and not on a starship but in a building somewhere. Sunlight filters through the window into the room. Anastasia looks happy for a moment, until the dream starts. Her face turns suddenly to worry as she looks out the window.

Nabrun starts to reach out, to comfort the girl, to speak. Concern fills her mind. "What is it, love?" she asks quietly. "What's wrong?"

Grey points out the window, where her eyes look. "They're coming, mom," she says and outside building there are indeed soldiers. You can't place them, you don't know them. The phaser battle is vicous and short lived though as they cut through militia defenders without seeming to worry about their own safety. They're coming, and in minutes they'll be to the building.

Nabrun reaches for her arm. "Downstairs," she says quietly. "We have to get to the basement. There's a way out there," she says, voice urgent. Fear rips through her, thoughts of Alek filling her mind, followed closely by Hamish and Ana. "Come on, Anastasia. We don't have time to waste."

Alek and Hamish aren't here, you know that. You can't remember why though and the memory slides away when you try and focus. Ana moves to take your hand, fear written all over her face. "Mom, don't leave me. I'm so scared," she begs, desperate.

. o O Anastasia needs Barana's support. There is nothing but terror running through her.

Nabrun offers a bit of a smile and reaches out to touch Anastasia's face. "It's alright, love. I'm not going to leave you," she says softly, voice quiet. Fingers brush across the girl's cheek, brushing a strand of hair back. "Come with me. We need to go to the basement, love. It's safe there. Please, Ana...we've got to hurry."

Anastasia nods to you, a quick and desperate nod, really to follow, but is quiet otherwise. You can hear more energy weapon fire and then banging against the door to the building.

. o O Nabrun feels worried, there's no doubt about that. The terror is tamped down as she projects love and support, tenderness.

Nabrun pulls Ana along behind her, faster now. The steps to the basement. The thick door down there with the lock. There's water in there. It's safe. Get her to safety. The flight is headlong through the building, searching.

As you flee, you can feel need creeping in. You can't place what, but you need something, need to do something. Its a pulse in the back of your mind, starting even as the door crashes open mid flight. Behind you can hear the voice saying, "There's two of them here, according to the sensors. Find them."

Nabrun finds the door to the basement and pushes Ana through it first. "Down there Ana. Go. Straight down." She starts through the door herself, trying to pull it closed behind her, to lock it.

. o O Nabrun feels slight panic, but tamps it down. Concern for Anastasia. Focus on Anastasia.

The flight wasn't fast enough, two hands grabbing the door and stopping it. Two huge hands, grey and scaled, rip the door open. There are two huge aliens, grey and scaled with head and body ridges wearing body armor. One reaches forward to grab Nabrun. In the background, Ana screams, "MOM!" The sense of need it growing, pushing now against your mind.

. o O Anastasia is terrified now, fear spilling out of her in waves.

Nabrun fights against the hands, twisting and squirming like an eel. "RUN!" she screams at the girl. "Run, Ana! GO! I'll be there soon!" She continues to squirm and fight, clearly intent on getting away.

. o O Nabrun feels panic wells and she fights against the need. There's a priority, and that is Anastasia. Her daughter. Protect her daughter.

She is nothing but dead weight to the soldier he pulls her from the doorway and pushes her to the other soldier, before the first goes down the stairs after the girl. Nabrun is grabbed easily held by the second solider, who gloats, "You humans are easy prey." Ana watches for a moment, terrified and frozen, too frozen to run when she should and a moment later she's being pulled roughly up the stairs.

. o O Anastasia thinks, "Mom! I need you! I need your help mom! Stop them from hurting me!"

Nabrun continues to fight the hands for just a moment, then goes limp. New plan. She watches Ana for a moment then closes her eyes, projecting calming and soothing into the mind of the soldier holding Ana. Peace. No threat. Not a threat. Let her go.

. o O Nabrun thinks, "Breathe, Ana. Calm down and breathe. We'll get through this."

Niether of the soldiers seem to react at all to the telepathy, and the one holding Ana shoves her to the ground. Before he can draw his phaser another person enters, a man. But his face is hidden and out of focus. The harder you look the less you see. He turns to Nabrun, and says, "You're one of the children."

. o O Anastasia is absolutely terrified. She can't focus and is desperate for help.

. o O Anastasia thinks, "Mom! Help me!"

Nabrun turns her face away, eyes on Ana. "Please don't hurt her," she says quietly. "Let her go. Take me instead. Please, take me. What do you need? What do you want?"

. o O Nabrun thinks, "ANASTASIA! Peace, child. Breathe, Ana. Listen to my voice. Breathe. I can't help you if you panic. Breathe. Calm."

"You're one of the children, and you won't help me," the man says, anger in his voice. "WHY NOT?" he snarls and before turning to the solider holding Ana. "Get ready to kill her," he says coldly. The need that was pulsing before is now racing through your mind. The need to DO something, something you can't place.

. o O Anastasia is scared to listen, to scared to focus, especially at the orders.

Nabrun starts to twist again. "What do you NEED?" she asks, voice rising to a near scream. "What do you WANT?" Her control is slipping. Ana's in danger. "TELL ME!"

. o O Nabrun feels panic. Blind panic. Ana's going to die. Rage. Frustration.

. o O Nabrun screams at the man, "What do you WANT? Tell me! WHAT?"

The man doesn't seem to hear a word she says. He snarls again, "You're one of the children. You should be helping me, but you're not. Why not?" The soldier guarding Ana drawns his phaser and lifts it.

Nabrun twists and squirms, using every bit of strength she has to try to get away. "I'm trying! Just tell me what you want! What you need! Please...please," she begs. "No! Shoot me instead! Let her go!" Tears are streaming down her face now, unheeded. "Let her go. Tell me what you need and I'll help you."

Anastasia is quaking with fear now, sobbing as the phaser rises. "Help me," snarls the man again. Ana turns her tear stained face to you and begs, "Help me!" The phaser settles, pointed at her. "Help me," she says again, though its not her voice but the man's. The soldier pulls the trigger and a blinding light flashes from it.

Nabrun sits straight up, mouth open in a silent scream, hand blindly reaching out for something. Trouble has long since fled. given the way the sheets are a tangled, twisted mess, it's easy to see why. Tears are streaming down Barana's face. "Ana," she whispers, looking heartbroken for a moment. But then, then her surroundings slowly come into focus and she looks around. "A dream," she says, voice raw. "Just...a dream."

Time: Sun Jan 30 03:50:21 2005

Stardate: 54717.6

Takamura sleeps soundly after a long hard day of work. He's curled up on his side with his arm reaching out for the non-existant Valentine. She must have had an early duty shift since her side of the bed is empty.

As dreams are wont to do, an image slowly forms. Its a hall at first, slowly forming into a hallway on the Aegis. You know it right away, its the hall from your quarters headed to the lift.

Takamura blinks his eyes, glancing around the corridor to see if there is anyone or anything else around.

The corridor is empty, even eerily so. There is no one but you there. And then you feel it, gentle yet demanding in the back of your mind. Need. The need for something. The need to do something. You can't place what, but its there."

Takamura tilts his head to the side trying to figure out what the nagging is. Walking to the turbolift, he presses the call button. Even as he does so, the Japanese man glances about suspiciously.

The only thing that attacks you is air, the standard mixture for the Aegis and erego harmless. The silence persists and the feeling of need persists. Just as the lift arrives the silence is broken, your combadge chirping loudly.

Takamura steps into the turbolift, tapping his combadge. "Lieutenant Takamura here."

"Lie...," the female vocie says in a confused tone. "Captain Takamura, you're needed on the bridge sir. We have an emergency."

Furrowing his brows, Takamura is taken by surprise by the rank the voice uses to address him. After a moment's pause, he replies. "I am already on my way. What is the nature of the emergency?"

. o O Takamura thinks, "/Captain/ Takamura? Is this the future?"

The lifts hums along and you feel the need growing more intense as you talk on your coms. "Sir, Station 419 is under attack. They're hailing for help."

Takamura's brow rises again. "Who's attacking the station? Are we still berthed with the station? What is the status of the ship?"

This time the voice is silent for a moment. "Sir, we haven't docked with the station since Timefleet split from the Federation. The Mermidams are attacking Station 419 and they're hailing for our help." The lift reaches the bridge, the doors sliding open even as you remember those still on the station. Your wife Tara and your two daughters. Craig Malloy. Caleb Foster and Lanie. So many of those you know are there.

As soon as the doors part, Takamura steps off the lift and moves to the Captain's chair. "The Mermidams?" He asks curiously. He looks at the familiar face and the not quite so familiar. "Open a channel with the Station. And bring the ship to yellow alert. Helm, lay in an intercept course with the Meridam ships. Tactical, I want an assessment of the Meridam vessels." Despite the surreal surroundings, the command officer's training takes over. He glances at the console on the arm of his chair even as his ship readies for a potential battle.

And almost every officer looks at him like someone stole their Captain and repalced him with a Gorn. Finally a woman in command red with Commander's pips speaks up. "Sir? We're allied with the Mermidams. Why would we attack them? The Federation betrayed us, we should attack the station." That feeling of need is still growing, now almost tangible.

Takamura turns to his apparent first officer, regarding her with confusion. "What? Betrayed us? Are we currently at war with the Federation?"

As you look at her a name forms, Commander Daren. She nods to you. "Aye, sir. We have been for four years now. Are you alright sir?" he says asks, glancing to another officer. "If we don't help the attack, it will fail sir. Permission to engage the station?"

Takamura glances about at his officers, obviously as confused as they are. "What happened in the Lithian Invasion?"

Daren frowns a lttile. "Sir, we don't have time for that. You need to make a decision in the next minute or the attack will likely fail." The feeling of need, the need to DO something is growing.

Takamura frowns deeply. "Open a channel with the station. Let's see if they will surrender. And let the Mermidams know I intend to ask for the surrender."

. o O Takamura thinks, "What the hell is happening? I have to stop more loss of life."

Daren frowns again at that. "Sir, you need to make a decision right now. The Mermidams don't accept surrender. If you can't act sir, I'll have to have you releived on medical grounds."

Takamura scowls at his first officer. "Tell the Meridams to stand down. If they don't we will fire upon them. Now, raise the shields, arm the weapons, and intercept the Meridams. And do it /now/, Commander."

Daren nods to Takamura and then begins to follow the orders. "Sir, they're hailing and warning we'll be breaking the Treaty of Acamon if we attack. We'll be at war with them."

Takamura sets his jaw as he stares at the viewscreen. "The choice is theirs. If they want to keep their Treaty, they will stand down. If not, at this point what's one more war?"

Daren nods to Takamura and looks to the screen as the Aegis crashes into the first wall of fighters, spitting torpedoes from her many launchers, before shuddering from an attack. "Sir?" calls out the helm officer. "There's another wave of them coming in." The need to DO SOMETHING is now throbbing in your mind.

Takamura hands clench the armrests of his chair, looking very much displeased by the decisions he is being forced to make. "Scramble our fighters with orders to disable the Mermidams. Tactical, target the main ship's weapons and engines. If they aren't going to stop shooting, we'll make them."

Daren glances up from his command console. "Sir, there are more Mermidams coming in. We're going to be outnumbered five to one." He looks to his console and then back up. "There's a hail from the station. On screen sir?"

Takamura nods his head. "Yes. On screen. Let's see what they have to say for themselves."

The viewscreen switches from the battle and in fades a woman, Tara Valentine. She's wearing command red and Commander's pips. "Hiroshi, I didn't think I'd see you again. We need your help."

Takamura blinks in surprise when Tara appears before him. "What's your situation, Tara? How can we be of assistance?"

"Hiro, the Mermidams are going to break through our shields and Structural Integrity Fields in a minute if you can't stop," says Valentine, looking desperate. "Help us! We need you!"

Takamura nods once as he listens to the sitrep. "We've already engaged the Mermidams and are doing our best to stop them. Try to hang on a little bit longer."

Daren looks up to Takamura again. "Sir, more Mermidam tactical ships are forming for an attack run on the station. They're going to destroy it." That sense of need is wrapped around your whole mind, the need TO DO SOMETHING. On the viewscreen Valentine is starting to panic. "Hiro, save our kids. Save me. We need you. I need you," she says, but the last bit isn't her voice. Its morphing into something else.

Takamura looks his XO. "Focus our attacks on those ships. Destroy the Mermidam ships before they destroy the station. This shouldn't be possible. /You/ said that their attack wouldn't succeed with out us. I think you underrated our /allies/. And use Cassandra to pull as many people off the station as possible."

Daren can't respond, he doesn't have the time as the tactical officer is calling out distances and attacks. The Mermidams, dispite the firepower from the Aegis, are closing on the station. On the screen Valentine calls out one last time, "Hiro, we need you!" Her voice morphs, slowly turning into that of your first officer's. "I need you! Help me! I need you!" And then the screen blinks out as the station explodes, the light so bright everything fades into white.

"NOOOOO!!!!" Takamura screams as he sits bolt upright in his bed. Sweat pours from him as his heart pounds, barely contained by his chest. Said chest heaves with exertion while Takamura desperately tries to catch his breath.

Time: Sun Jan 30 15:09:33 2005

Stardate: 54718.7

Having fallen asleep in uniform again, Christine rolls to her side and pulls a pillow closer to her chest. No, it's not a Bajoran, but it still seems to bring a soft, gentle smile to her lips even in sleep.

Slowly a dream forms, images froming from the darkness. The first distinct image is the red alarm kalxon, flashing in the hallway of the mall area. Slowly images form around it, people strambling in panic.

An officer of Starfleet, Christine immediately checks equipment on her person and moves in a dead sprint for the turbolift. This is how she's been trained, this has become more habit than something to think on - she's on her way to her post for orders and explanation, even if she *is* out of uniform at the moment. The corridor to the turbolift may seem undauntingly long, but such is what happens when your thoughts race faster than your body can.

No soonder does she take first step then does her combadge chirp loudly. Too loudly even, as the other sounds dim into the background, drawing focus to that chirp. And then you feel it, a need. You can't place what, but a need to do something, to have something, to get something. Need tickles at the back of your mind.

Hurley's hand moves to the combadge, tapping at it automatically to answer the hail, distracted by her sudden mysterious requirement. "This is Ensign Hurley," she speaks aloud to thin air after tapping at her device. She pauses in her sprint to look around the corridor, confusion at her intense desire. What am I forgetting? I'm forgetting something. I know I am.

"Chrissy!" comes Casya's loud and desperate call from Hurley's combadge. "Where are you? I thought you were going to protect me!"

"Casya!" Christine's eyes widen and fill with a mixture of guilt and terror. "Casya, where are you? Can you make it to the Turbolift? What's going on?" She knows she has to get to her position on the bridge, she *knows* it's her *responsibility as an officer* to immediately report for duty. But, Casya's in trouble, and an overwhelming urge to run to the Orion woman freezes Christine in her tracks.

For a long moment there is nothing but sobbing coming from the combadge, scared fearful sobbing. Finally Casya says, "Chistine, he's here. He's coming for me. Where are you? I need you!" That need for something is growing, reaching out from the back of your mind.

"Casya, he won't get you," Christine reassures and sprints for the turbolift again. "He won't hurt you. Where are you?" Eyes are widened in fear and terror and she reaches for a sidearm, which is mysteriously on her. She doesn't think anything of it, though, since the Red Alert Klaxon sounds and flashes around her.

. o O Hurley thinks, "How could I leave her? How could I leave her alone like that? Who is here?"

"I'm in the the center Chrissy!" Casya calls out tearfully. "The Intendant's here. He's on the station and he's coming for me! Help me Christine, help me!"

Hurley's eyebrows furrow. "Then Intendant?" she whispers. "Not Minos?" Now she's thoroughly confused, but she makes it to the turbolift and shouts back into her combadge, "I'm coming, Casya! Stay strong. I'll be there very very soon, I promise."

. o O Hurley thinks, "Intendant? No. Can't be."

The Lift only takes a moment to reach the level, stopping and letting the doors open to the hallway beyond. "Hurry Chrissy! I can see him. I need you!" yells Casya though the combadge. The need is growing more and more, almost trobbing through your mind. You need TO DO something.

Rushing out into the corridor, Christine draws the sidearm up. "I'm coming, Casya!" she hollars and sprints along the corridor again. "How many are with him? Who's all there?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "I broke my promise to him. He's going to take it out on Casya."

"I need you!" yells Casya again, completely scared. There's something different about her voice, something deeper and darker. The hallway stretches out longer and longer the faster you run even as the need to DO SOMETHING is throbbing in your mind.

"Ensign Hurley to Security," Christine desparately calls into her combadge. "Security!" she hollars, "Security to the Children's Center!" A brief pause, "Hurley to Operations!"

Nothing. Not a sign of a response from either, like she's alone on a station of thousands. Even the hallway is empty now, taunting her. The voice comes again, even deeper and darker. "I need you! Why won't you help me? You need to help me!" it calls out, distinctly male now.

"Edan?" Christine calls, now shaking in terror. "I'm coming. Protect Casya, please! Protect her until I get there. I'm getting help. I'll bring help." She keeps moving against the odds of the never-ending and empty corridor, tears already streaming down her cheeks. "I'm coming," she hoarsely whispers more ot herself than her combadge.

. o O Hurley thinks, "Edan. Oh god. I have to get to Edan. If he finds.."

"I'm not Edan!" yells the voice loudly, angrily. "I need you! HELP ME!" it yells, before going quiet for a moment. Then Casya yells through the combadge, screaming in pure terror. "He's here! CHRISSY! He's going to kill m...." Then the sound of a phaser beam and then silence. The hallway snaps back, and throws you into darkness.

Hurley lets out a scream as she sits up straight in her bed with beads of sweat dotting her forehead and a damp uniform clinging to her body. "No! Casya!" Tears are streaming down her cheeks, the heat of the new-formed drops warming redden cheeks against her pale complexion and her breathing remains erractic while she tries to reorient herself. Once she realizes she's in her quarters, she draws her knees to her chest and drops her head to rest against them. "It was a dream," she whispers to herself with closed eyes. "Only a dream."