She'd been here but a few days. She'd met the XO, the CO, and the CMO. She'd made a Vulcan friend of sorts and she'd already had a few sessions, one with a young Ensign that...affected her personally more then she'd let on. The young woman had many emotions turning in her and a past that had created within her an insecurity of self but unlike V'lera, the woman had turned her insecurities to objects and had attached her soul to them. It would be an interesting case to take on.

Again she'd thought of Sonak. He was Chief Science and he might be able to help with this young ensign's therapy. She'd figure it all out. She had yet to unpack her quarters and office and she'd use the next day to do it. Her morning was clear so she'd use that for the office and now, this evening, she would start on her quarters. She didn't have a lot to unpack...just a few crates.

She would, however, have a hot chocolate before she started. She walked to the replicator and placed her order. As the device hummed she closed her eyes always finding its hum soothing. She picked up her drink carefully and carried it to the sofa.

Sitting down she placed the clear mug of chocolate on the glass table with a small clink. Sitting back she picked up Surak and pet his soft fur. He was as much a service animal for her as for those she treated. The only difference was she thought of him as her friend...perhaps her only true friend. "Today was long," she began.

It was often a routine for her to sit in the evening and tell Surak of her day. "I met with a few clients this afternoon. This morning the medical was a little ... stressful. You know how I feel about those."

The little animal stayed silent as if it understood all she said. In reality it merely enjoyed spending time with its owner. A ritual that it too had learned. Surak, even though a small creature, knew that soon she would play classical music and the little raccoon could lay for hours listening to it.

V'lera continued, "Ensign...."

Before she could get anything out the chirp of her communicator interrupted. =/\=Communications to Lieutenant V'lera.=/\=

She sighed, "Go ahead."

=/\=Incoming message from Vulcan marked personal and urgent=/\=

"Please put it through to my quarters." As she spoke she rose from the sofa and set Surak down. She walked over to her small computer on the small desk and turned it on. The Starfleet insignia shimmered and then a screen flashed an angry red demanding an access code and baring a symbol of the Vulcan High Council of Elders.

She sighed. She entered the code that she'd memorized well over the last few years and she watched as the IDIC symbol shimmered from symbol to face. The familiar face of T'Mira lit the screen. The old woman's perpetually dour expression filled the screen.

"V'lera, I hope that this message finds you well."

V'lera resisted the urge to roll her eyes. For a Vulcan T'Mira had a way with small talk even in messages.

"V'lera I have two things to speak to you about. I hope that you have some time."

V'lera did sigh this time. She wanted to shake the computer to make the woman get to it. She knew at least one of the things the woman wanted to talk to her about and that was the topic she was most anxious about. Her side trip to Vulcan before coming here was short but productive. Now all that was necessary was waiting to see if T'Mira had done what she'd said.

"The patient you consulted me about. I have the results. You were right."

V'lera let out the breath that she'd been holding. Before any thought could register T'Pera went on, "The other issue has to do with Rura Penthe. They contacted the council. Prisoner seven-alpha-one has escaped."

V'lera stumbled and then pulled out her chair and sat down hard. She stared at the wall above the screen. Escaped? It was Rura Penthe...there had not been an escape since Kirk and McCoy. How would that happen?

T'Mira said some stuff that V'lera missed by the time she was able to refocus on the message.

".......and thus I believe that you have nothing to worry about on the Hera. You are safe there. The Klingons will take care of this and we have dispatched Vulcan security to assist. The council feels that the best thing you can do now is allow us to do our job. Focus on yours." The woman gave a Vulcan salute and the message ended.

V'lera sat there looking at the blank screen for a long time. She hadn't even noticed that the Starfleet insignia had returned. She looked down to see that even though blind, Surak found his way to her. He always seemed to know when she was stressed.

She picked him up and stood starting to pace. T'Pera was right. There was nothing to worry about. What she found troubling was that T'Mira seemed to think that rather then logic V'lera would turn to worry, an emotion.

"I have to think on this." She said to her pet. "I have to take charge of things. Perhaps...." She shook her head. She put Surak down on his little bed, refilled his water and food, and then headed out. She needed a walk. There was only one place where she could think clearly. As she neared the observation deck she decided to change course. She went home and changed and headed to the gym. She had some anger to work out, not that she'd admit it.

-------

T'Mira paced the small space of her office. The young communications officer had confirmed that the message was delivered and she'd left to pace. Vulcans did not do that often. With the escape of Prisoner seven-alpha-one her chance had finally come. She sat back at her desk and turned on her screen. With a few deft motions of her fingers the screen shimmered and changed into the face of a scowling Orion man. An old man with a white beard and bald head. "Hello Malachi."

A clear angry mask formed on the man's face. "What right do you have calling here T'Mira."

She sighed. "We must meet. He's escaped. I also have some information for you. Something I should have shared years ago."

"You have nothing I want to hear."

She paused. "How about a granddaughter."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Five days, meet me in five days. I will send you coordinates."

T'Mira gave a nod. "Five days." She watched the screen go dark. Standing she knew that she could not go in a Vulcan ship. Lucky for her an old friend was stationed on Vulcan and his ship had one of those travel shuttles. She headed to see Thomas now. He'd help her. She had to make sure her meeting with Malachi was hidden even from her Vulcan co-council members.

Observation Lounge Seventeen was located in the Port Pylon of the U.S.S. Hera, located one level below the connection to the warp nacelle. It was an exceedingly small chamber with a replicator, a single table with six chairs, and in place of a plastisteel window, was a retractable panel that turned out to be one of the best, unobstructed views into open space on the ship.

It was also, by and large, usually quite empty. It was one of the most empty, quiet places one could go on the starship, save one’s own quarters. However, the hum of the engines was pronounced there, being located right below a nacelle, so it was rare for anyone to be in here when the ship was at warp, as it was at the moment.

However, the hum of warp engines was, generally speaking, quite relaxing to Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox, and the Romulan flight chief favored this particular location to meditate in, more often than not. With the screen down and the force field activated, the room was filled with the purple glow of the ships warp field and the streaking stars that recced away from the ship. One of the six chairs was turned towards the window and a cup of coffee and a crimson shoulder bag rested on the table as Mnhei’sahe sat on the turned towards the window.

With eyes closed, the young red-headed officer concentrated on her breathing. She was wearing a pair of black pants and a tight, crimson-colored work-out top and a pair of black running shoes as she tried to regulate her breathing and relax. In her mind, she tried to visualize the image of Mount Selaya on Vulcan as she had been trained to by Commander Sonak, but this evening as she was just coming off of her shift with a few hours to kill before her wife was done with her own shift, concentrating and calming her mind was just not working. The emotional officer had a little too much on her mind.

--------------------

V'lera had spent a few hours studying the ship. She'd found a place that promised both stars and the vibrations and hum of the engines. After a stressful day she headed there. She was hoping to meditate away some of the stress. The call from Vulcan had affected her more then anything. It had caused her to be lost in her thoughts and in the images from her past. Her mind went back to Vulcan, to her old home.

Sighing she straightened her uniform and entered. As she neared the table she noted that she was not alone. She recognized the red hired woman right away. "Commander Dox...I apologize for disturbing you."

Turning at the sound, Mnhei'sahe was startled. It wasn't often that anyone could sneak up on her sensitive Romulan ears, but the hum of the engine combined with the distracting headspace left her a bit more vulnerable than not. "Oh, no, Not at all, Lieutenant V'lera. I was trying to meditate, emphasis on 'trying', but I wasn't exactly succeeding."

Sighing slightly, Dox stood up and adjusted her workout top as she addressed the Half-Vulcan, Half-Orion Councilor, curious as to what brought the new transfer to one of the most secluded spots on the ship. "Is there anything I can help you with? This isn't the most... popular of the break rooms."

V'lera tilted her head slightly, "I was attempting to find a quiet spot to meditate. I have always enj... I have always found the hum of the engines soothing and a great assistance to meditation." She paused. "Your comment suggests that your meditation was not successful. Why do think that is? Do you have something on your mind I can assist with?"

A curious thought was unbetrayed as Dox kept her face perfectly straight. But the counselor's sudden attempt to change the subject off of her own, clearly present emotions caught Dox's attention as curious. She logged the observation in the back of her mind as she turned towards the ship's new Counselor.  "I grew up on a freighter with an engine that was kreldanni hnaev... Uh... my apologies. I have something of a bad habit of cursing in Romulan. The engine was... well that was an expletive and the Romulan word for feces."

kjhV'lera resisted the urge to smile. She'd heard the phrase before. She had to fight, in fact, not to smile. "I see," she simply said.

Well, that answers that. She knows Romulan. Dox thought to herself as she quietly processed what she was learning. She was still upset at having missed the clues that Ensign Varnok had been a Tal'Shiar spy and was on guard with this new addition to the crew.

"Anyway... for 16 years of my life, more or less, I lived with a constant engine hum. And even though I can feel the engine on any deck, our chief keeps her so well tuned that I like to come out here and really hear that hum. It helps me relax. Well, usually." Dox said, getting a refill on her coffee from the replicator. She was observant enough to pick up on the verbal and visual cues V'lera was giving off, as well as how she was struggling to not express emotion, but the socially awkward pilot didn't want to make the new councilor any more uncomfortable by drawing attention to that observation. At least, not yet. A month in captivity with the Tal'Shiar taught the young pilot how to keep her thoughts to herself very well. "Today, it's just... work stress on my mind, I suppose. Nothing epic, but enough to distract me. I'm training two Ensigns in the Flight Department to see who will be best suited to fill the assistant chief position and it's... not going smoothly."

"That is not good." She walked in a bit deeper but did not want to sit down. If Dox wanted to be alone she'd respect that. There must be other ways to clear the mind. "My offer is still there if you wish to speak."

"Thank you, But I appreciate the offer. Sonak says I have exceptional mental defenses. Second on the ship only to his own. But unless I'm in some kind of direct threat, my general level of concentration is... all over the place." Dox chuckled lightly. "How do you clear your mind when it's a little too loud for comfort?"

She grasped the back of a chair in an uncharacteristic and un-Vulcan casual manner enjoying the feel of the faux leather-like material. It's smoothness and coolness seeming to calm her a bit. "I too am partial to the hum of the engines. There is a soothing quality. Meditation is another way or visiting a secret place on Vulcan."

Watching the half-Vulcan, half-Orion woman move, Dox found that she could help but read into her body language. The Half-Vulcan, Half-Orion woman seemed to only play at being a Logician. And it wasn't a convincing performance for someone who has spent so much time under the tutelage of a Kolinahr master. "A secret place? If you're referring to Mount Selaya, I can't seem to find it in my head today. Sometimes, when I meditate, I can feel the heat and taste the dry air like I was really there. It's all drawn from the memories Sonak gave me to work with, but it can feel even more real than the Holodeck simulation."

"When I can concentrate." Dox added with a mirthless chuckle.

"Perhaps finding it in your head is not necessary. If you will allow it," V'lera started. "I would like to show you a program I use to help me."

-----------------------------

A few minutes later, Mnhei'sahe stood in the center of Holodeck 2 with Lieutenant V'lera at her side. The room was inactive, with its black walls and gold grid lines being all that was visible in the expansive space. The red-headed Romulan ran a finger over her ear, giving it a light tug which was an old nervous affectation that still emerged from time to time. And in this moment, not quite knowing what to expect, she was a bit nervous.

Putting her trust in the ship's new counselor, Mnhei'sahe looked over and nodded. "So, is this going to be the program you have of Mount Selaya?"

She gave a nod, "In a way." She turned to the arch, "Computer have all holodeck programs for V'lera been downloaded into memory banks?"

The mechanical voice rang out, "Affirmative."

"Good. Please play program Seleya TKS."

The computer chimed back, "That program is code protected.

"Entry code V'lera Echo, Echo, Delta, Charlie five."

"Program Ready." The computer chimed.

"Begin." With the last melodic ringing of her voice the grid shifted and fizzed. They now stood in the hot sand of Vulcan. The sky was an orange and red shade that would make a painter weep. The sun hung low in the sky almost kissing the desert region. A hot wind caressed their faces as he oppressive heat settled over them. The pale orange-hued clouds floated at leisurely pace across the vast ocean of sky. Behind them, a geological wonder stretched towards the sky. Rock of varying shades of brown, tan, and black stood casting an imposing shadow over them. A small path sat before them and only then did they notice that they were not on the ground but just slightly on a sandy path.

V'lera turned to Dox. "This is a path I traveled many times. It is a secret passageway through the mountain to the other side...only known to a few. I followed a cleric as a child and found my way through it." She spoke but not in her usual voice. This voice was oddly full of emotion as if she was being pulled by a memory. "We are about fifty kilometres from the southern boundary of the Forge."

V'lera had traveled this path so many times but she wasn't here for that. She was here to help Dox. She seemed to shake away the remnants of both happiness and great sadness and loneliness that this place evoked. She really came here as a familiarity perhaps a way to remind herself that attachment to people was not a good thing because they always feigned friendship and family love and ties and then you were left alone to be shattered by their actions. It was a way she kept the Orion in her in line. Coming here allowed her to reach her inner child and say you are alone. Be logical and understand that it is the way of the Vulcan, solitary walk through life. "Mount Seleya, did the Commander tell you of its significance?"

Looking up, Dox was taken slightly aback. The hologram was just as detailed as the one Sonak had introduced her to for her meditative studies, but she had never explored the space from any other sides which made this experience quite new to the young Romulan woman. She had been momentarily concerned heading alone to the holodeck alone with the curious newcomer, but she knew the Hera too well, and with a sentient computer cat living in it that she knew kept an eye on her, she knew she was in no danger in the Holodeck so long as there were no pieces of gods in its processors. "He told me of its history and of some of his own time walking the steps. And, of course, I know that for my own people's history, this was the place where the final ties were broken. Where those who marched beneath the Raptor's wing left from. I know the role this place has in the training of young Vulcan's in the ways of Surak. But not much more."

There was a touch of sadness in her voice as she made mention of the bloody history of the Romulan's and of the now-legendary sundering of their two people millennia ago. But listening, she could hear that change in V'lera's voice as she spoke of it. The noticeable emotion was clear and Mnhei'sahe was a little concerned. "I hope you will forgive my observation... but this place seems to have quite a considerable significance to you. Are you alright... being here?"

She gave a nod. "I am fine." After all, it had been her home for a while. "You are right about the history of course. It has so much of it. The Kolinahru Monastery, the Hall of ancient thought." She pointed up the mountain. "Up there near the summit itself is Surak's Peak. It houses the T'Klass Pillar that is thought to be a weapon of the Vulcan God of Death, Shariel. Down a ways is the Plain of Blood...for a peaceful race we have many...unsettling names for monuments." Just to the northwest of Surak's Peak is the T'Karath Sanctuary... perhaps I can show you that some time. It is the home to so many artifacts and just past that there re ruins of a monastery that is so old that our people do not know of its origins. It is hidden and it has many rooms." She looked at the woman. "Would you like to see it"

"Perhaps." Mnhei'sahe said, focusing on the one word from the counselor that she didn't quite believe: fine. Nobody who had struggled with depression, anxiety, and self-harm as Mnhei'sahe had, would be convinced by the biggest red-flag word used by a troubled mind. "During our first session, you said you grew up near here?"

She gave a nod. "Yes. I grew up in a house that was at the foot of Mount Seleya. A small village of no more than a few hundred. I stayed in the Village until my Kahs-wan rite. Then I was around that area until I left for Starfleet." It was true yet it left so many gaps. So much she didn't explain, so much that was purged by the Vulcan High Command before she left for Starfleet. "Some see the region as harsh and sparse yet there is so much beauty and history there."

"What I can see here... and what I've seen through my mind-melds with Commander Sonak is and has been quite beautiful. I hope to come here for real on day when I have the opportunity." Mnhei'sahe said, looking out over the vista of stark power and beauty that surrounded her. "I've read about the Kahs-wan. It can be quite... harrowing. Even deadly in some cases."

It wasn't as much a question as it was a prompt. Mnhei'sahe heard the slightest of tones to V'lera's voice that spoke of emotion when she mentioned the traditional Vulcan rite. She didn't want to push, but she was concerned nonetheless. Another flag. Maybe not a red one, but a decidedly reddish hue.

"It can be. It is a rite that Vulcans undergo, mostly males, but females may choose to do so. You are meant to survive ten days on your own, with no food, no water, with wild Sehlats running around. Some do not make it. Others... well they survive." She paused. "I, too, survived." She'd lasted a year in the desert. Her village had given up on her listed her as dead and when she'd walked back into the village there had been shocked stares all around. The High Command had taken note too, namely an elder who'd shown...relief at her return. "It was a most interesting experience."

Listening, Mnhei'sahe nodded as she looked directly at the ship's new councilor. Then, taking a deep breath of the dry, thin air, she walked over to a clearing in the stone base they stood on and looked down for a moment. "It sounds quite... interesting. During our first session, we talked a bit about my experience in captivity on that Warbird, but we didn't talk much about my childhood."

"As you know, until I was 16, my mother and I existed as smugglers on a freighter in the Neutral zone. We dealt in any kind of illegal cargo that would continue to support our real work, which was getting reunificationists away from Romulus to freedom. But it was an extremely... difficult childhood. I wasn't raised as much as I was trained. I was piloting that ship in combat scenarios at the age of ten. I was learning how to kill people with my hands at the same time. My forge was that ship. And the airlock of that ship, where I spent many an hour resisting the urge to open it into space. It created a... desperation... in me. A desperation that expressed itself in my word choices and in my body language." Mnhei'sahe spoke frankly, tilting her head slightly. The woman she was with might not be a spy, but she was clearly concealing deep traumas that weren't mentioned in her personnel file. "And if you will forgive my observation, I'm seeing a very similar feeling of desperation in you here. This isn't a positive memorie for you, is it?"

She stared at the woman a long time and then spoke the only thing she could. The truth. "No. It was not." She motioned. "But even in the worst of times we find...a way." She began walking leaving Dox to follow. They walked in silence a while and then they stopped at what looked to be a run-down shack. V'lera motioned to the building. "This is the place I find the most peace when meditating. Would you like to see?"

"Please." Mnhei'sahe said with a simple nod, waiting for V'lera to lead the way.

V'lera stepped up to the door. It was simulated wood, heavy, loud. The creaking was enough to keep visitors out. They entered the one room shack and he door closed. It looked....less then impressive. V'lera walked over to the center. "I came across this one night. If you look out of that window you will see ruins in the distance."

Raising an eyebrow at the suggestion for a second, Mnhei'sahe complied and turned away, The counselor was leading her towards something, and the curious Romulan didn't want the press the issue.

As Dox was looking out of the window V'lera pushed a loose floorboard aside. The scraping sound was minimal, but Dox's sensitive hearing picked it up nonetheless. She waited for Dox to turn and pointed to the open hole which was in fact the starting steps on a spiral stone staircase. "Shall we?" V'lera took the lead.

Answering with a simple nod, Dox followed closely behind the curious woman, wondering where the stairs might lead.

The trip wasn't very long. When V'lera had created the program she'd shortened the trip. Within minutes they found themselves in front of another door that required a manual push to open. It parted hesitantly but the revelation was worth it. When the door was fully open and they stepped inside. A fire in a center basin lit the room casting flickering shadows on a wonder. The room was large with sand pillars at each corner. Behind the flame stood an altar of stone that looked as if it was ripped from the very side of Mount Seleya. Figures graced it, statues of the long-forgotten Gods of Vulcan covered in dust and soot yet their sparkling beauty was clear. The walls were covered with writing, prayers of a once passionate people. At closer inspections, the walls shimmered with what seemed like embedded gold flakes and in the corner a spring of water still flowed into a fountain that seemed as if it hadn't been used in ages. "This is a chamber I discovered as a child. To this day Vulcan officials do not know of its existence. Above us are ruins, but nobody explored underneath. This was before the reformation, before the Rihannsu and the Vulcans were two races. This is just one room, one chamber of many." It had been a room that had shown her much and a complex that has served as her home more than once. "I started this program when I was at the Academy and it was just completed last year."

"You found all of this through a passage hidden under your home?" Mnhei'sahe said as she gently ran a hand across one of the statues of the ancient gods of Vulcan. "I know these. My mother taught me... as much as she could about Vulcan history and culture. She's always believed in reunification... taught me the language and... these are the three prime gods of Vulcan mythology. The God of War, the God of Peace and the God of..."

"...Death."

Pausing, Mnhie'sahe pulled her hand away slightly at the realization that when she felt the need to touch one of the statues, her hand went right to Shariel... the Vulcan God of Death. A chill went down her spine as she thought of the woman known as Death herself who was sitting up in her VIP accommodations on Deck 8... probably giving one of her dry smiles at the irony. Mnhei'sahe's complicated relationship with the woman who, in life, was known as Masato Rei was not a part of her record and it was one of the few things she kept from the rest of the crew. After all, to be friends with the embodiment of Death was one thing. To know that she has earmarked you to possibly replace her in the future was another thing entirely. 

In the instant that she withdrew her hand, all of that rushed through her mind as the olive twinge drained from her face for only an instant. Turning from the statues, she continued to look around the room, composing herself. "And you've been creating the details of these chambers from memory since the Academy? It's... amazing."

She didn't correct the woman about the home. It was not the shack they came through that was her home. She'd lived here in the ruins ... a long story that she shared with nobody.

She watched Dox as she went about things and even noticed the colour drain. "These chambers, these walls...they were burned into my mind." She walked over to Dox. "Are you alright. You seemed a little ill a moment ago."

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. The level of detail... the realism is... staggering." Mnhei'sahe replied, only lying a little before thinking over the specific wording V'lera used. "Wait, 'burned' into your mind? You'll forgive my saying, but that particular verbiage is somewhat... leading."

"The ship I grew up on... The Forager. I remember every bolt and deckplate. My... quarters on my Grandmother's Warbird where I was locked for three weeks. The Brig chamber where I was schackled to that chair to watch my Father be executed. Those are places that I would describe as being burned into MY mind." Dox's tone changed slightly to a much more serious one as she spoke. "What happened here? How long were you in these caves?"

To speak plainly with this woman would be very unprofessional but the woman was giving so much in her information it would only be right to give something back. Also being here she thought about it and found that perhaps she should not have brought the woman here. Here, V'lera was vulnerable. Here she was...herself. Her thoughts took a moment. "A year. I lived here about a year. These tunnels were my home, my... sanctuary. When I was young." Here she had been healed and protected. She'd found strength and had lived a thousand life times in that year."

"I… apologize if I'm pushed to much. I don't wish to make you uncomfortable." Mnhei'sahe said, trying to soften her tone to a less professional one. "It's just… you're a part of this crew now. And while it's your job to listen to me, I would be a poor Commander and a worse person if I didn't notice when the officers around me showed signs of… distress."

"And not to be presumptuous, but I am a very distressed woman, more often than not. I've lost count of the number of councilors I've been through in the last sixteen years." Mnhei'sahe stepped closer and tilted her head slightly to make eye contact with V'lera. "When I joined this ship, I never would have been having this conversation. I'm something of an introvert. I am anxious in groups and dislike crowds unless I can hit the people in them. I'm… damaged. And to use a human turn of phrase I learned on Earth, we can smell our own."

She stayed silent a moment. "I can somewhat relate...without he hitting." She paused again. "Being a counselor has made it possible for me to avoid them. My past has not impeded my ability to do my job. I would never jeopardize your health that way. You must trust that." She was speaking genuinely. As for her own past she was still coming to terms with a lot of things.

She looked away from the eye contact. "I am not good with eye contact." She simply said. "It is...painful at times for me." Began walking towards the statues. "I apologize for that."

Tilting an eyebrow at that revelation, Dox stiffened ever so slightly. "I apologize for any pain I have caused you. Thank you for letting me know that."

"No it is alright. Over my years at the Academy I have learned to handle eye contact, physical contact. I see challenges as things to be overcome." She touched the statues lightly. "Here is where I like to meditate. If you like this place I would be happy to link your voice with the access code."

"That's a positive way to think about such things. But here I am counciling the councilor." Mnhei'sahe chuckled as she shook her head and avoided looking at the statue of the Vulcan God of Death. "And... I would appreciate that. Beyond that... no ranks... person to person. We're both off duty, so you didn't have to do any of this."

She turned to look at Dox. "I wanted to. You seemed like you could use it. I am...glad to have shared this. Nobody has seen this but me so you are the first person to be here." She turned back to the statues and touched Shariel's statue. "Do you believe that the old Gods exist?"

There was a long pause. A gap that hung in the dry air with a palpable tension that all bit filled the chamber as Mnhei'sahe considered how to answer the question. As the ship's councilor, V'lera was cleared to know what was on the young Romulan woman's tongue. And after taking a breath, she closed her eyes for a moment and answered.

"Technically, no. I don't… believe. Believe is predilected on faith in things unseen. And I have seen too much to believe. No, I know the old gods exist. I've met a few. Some live on this ship." Getting over herself, Dox stepped over to the statues and looked into the eyes of the image of Shariel. "A few have… invaded my mind. It's why I've worked so hard to develop my mental defenses. Another, I once allowed to… merge with me for a time and she left a piece of herself with me."

"The gods are real. We protect their secrets here on the Hera." Mnhei'sahe said with an earnest resolve.

"I agree," she simply said as she reached out and touched the statue of Shariel again, briefly. She turned to Dox. "This has been, thus far, a most interesting assignment."

"It only gets more so if you can handle it. Which makes this important." Mnhei'sahe said, turning to face V'Lera, but keeping her eyes down slightly to avoid eye contact. "After I graduated from the academy, I spent... over six years as a cargo pilot. I made no friends and kept to myself. It was easy to see prejudice everywhere if I was acting like somebody nobody wanted to talk to. And my career was on hold as a result. Until I decided to do something that made me stand out, and that lead me here."

"My first week on the ship, I hid in my quarters. I didn't want to put myself out there and be hurt again like I was in school on Earth or like I was in the Academy or at any of the remote starbases I was stationed at before the Hera. But here, others reached out to me and pulled me out of my comfort zone." Mnhei'sahe smiled slightly and stepped away to one of the other statues to not put too much pressure on V'lera. If the woman was as damaged as she seemed, she didn't want to make her any worse. "That... those new friendships... are what has gotten me through what our missions have put before us. I'm not trying to pressure you or put you on the spot. But I appreciate you showing me all of this. Telling me what you've told me. And I'm glad to have talked to you outside of the structure of your office as a councilor."

She inclined her head slightly. "I have never had...humanoid friends. The academy was work and then I had my postings where I kept a distance.. I do not...know how to make friends. At times I do not understand friendship on a definition scale yes but I have never truly experienced it," she said honestly.

With a light smile on her face, Mnhei'sahe shook her head slightly. "What you did for me here. This wasn't what a councilor does. You let me in and your doing so again. That's what friends do. So... you're experiencing it now. I'll do my best to be a good one if you'll allow it."

"I see. Fascinating. I shall endeavour to be ... a good one too."

V'lera had come to engineering and asked to speak to the chief. As she waited she stood off to the side close enough to feel the vibrations of the engines. On her old ship she used to have a secret spot where she could meditate. The hum always lulled her, especially if she felt close to having an anxiety attack. She allowed herself to close her eyes a moment and just enjoy the hum while she waited for the engineer.

Thex had been enjoying her time back at work. Not that she minded being with her two bundles of joy,but being back in her workplace made her happy. Dangling upside down mending a slight fault with the warp cores her blue eyes noticed the stranger arriving into engineering. Dropping down with the athletic skills she was happy her pregnancy hadn't taken away she flicked her hair back over her head before approaching the woman who she guessed was the new ship's counselor. " Hello there. You must be Lieutenant V'lera." Thex said as she approached and offered her hand.

V'lera's eyes opened. She tookthe woman's hand. "Indeed. You must be Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi." She paused, "Thank you for speaking with me."

" No problem. Shall we talk in my office? " The andorian suggested.

"Indeed." She gave a nod and allowed the woman to lead her. She hesitated but a breath before she followed. "The sound of the engines is quite impressive. The vibrations lead me to believe they were calibrated recently they seem to be in excellent working order."

" I keep my mechanical girl running at her best." Thex said as she patted one of the consols as she lead the way to her small office next to the machine shop. " So what is it you need to take to me about?" She asked the hybrid as she sat down in her desk chair.

V'lera sat down in the guest chair. "I wish to speak to you about Ensign Carrington." The young woman was new and she wondered if Engineer had met the young woman.

" Is something wrong with her? " Thex asked concernedly. She'd only spoken to the ensign a few times since she'd got back, but she'd heard she had problems keeping roommates from one of the ensigns in the fly girls.

"That is...difficult to answer as the answer can be yes and no. Normally I would not come but she has given me permission to speak with you. I require her to be off work for a week. In the next week I will be conducting intensive therapy with her and emotionally she will not be fit for duty." V'lera worried about the woman. She had no family, not many friends and at times like this a family or friend to help was needed but V'lera knew that even alone the woman would be alright.

" Okay.." Thex said nodding her head. She'd never refuse her team time off for mental or physical health. " May i ask what wrong with her? If it's affected her duty I may need to check her work hasn't been affected. "

"She has given me permission to share. No it has not affected her in the past. She has a form of OCD, it manifests as Hoarding of things. Mostly she collects historical objects of various kinds it is a way to cling to the past that she wishes to forget. The Ensigns family was killed when she was young. She was raised on Mars colony in a communal home. She has gone through several events where she's lost things or people and it has manifested in her hording items to the point where she can barely move in her quarters." She explained further, "I wish she had a family to assist at this time but she is alone so we will work on getting her quarters fixed and I will be working on getting her over those losses."

"I understand take as long as you need with her. " Thex said making a note to run a full inventory check of the engineering gear in case some part had taken the ensigns fancy. " Do you need a team of my people to help move the stuff out of her quarters?"

She thought a moment. "Not for the moment. But your encouragement of her would be much appreciated." V'lera studied the woman. "I understand that you have recently undergone some positive changes as well."

Thex nodded to herself. " More than a few. Found my mates and had two beautiful daughters, began to patch things up with my thavvan and been doing well with the fly girls."

"A lot of change. It sounds as if it is positive. How have you been settling into motherhood?" She asked.

" It's taken a lot of adjusting to, but it's worth it. Having four sets of hands does make it easier. I love those little girls even if they do keep pulling my hair." Thex replied with a loving grin on her face.

V'lera inclined her head. "Having help is important. Pulling hair, as I understand it, is just a phase. Did you take time off after their brith?" She asked as she had yet to read the file of the woman. She was slowly getting acquainted with people.

" A little, but Tathaa the zhen of our bond is getting the most at the moment." The andorian replied.

"Has it been difficult being away from work?" She knew of many an engineer that would say yes. They did take to their ships quite strongly, at least in her observance.

Thex nodded. " Being away from my other girl is always hard." She said patting the computer as if the Hera could feel it.

"How has it been getting back to work, are you finding that you are adjusting well?" She studied the woman. She never understood parenthood but she understood that it took a lot. She'd counseled, in her career, a lot of parents who'd found it hard to balance both. In a way, as a counselor, it was her job to ensure that things were going well on that end for Thex.

"It feels great to be getting back to work. I'm happy my pregnancy hasn't changed my abilities to keep the girl running." Came the andorians reply.

"I can understand. Engineers tend to very much attached to their ships. I can see you take great pride in your work." She tilted her head to the side. "Is there anything that worries you about getting back to work?"

"Other than worrying about my daughters while I'm away from them none that i can think off." The andorian responded.

"That is a normal worry for a parent. If you wish to speak about anything I am here to listen." She said. "And thank you for giving the ensign some time."

" That's fine and thanks for the offer. " the andorian replied. " If you ever need something fixed or want to join the flygirls just let me know. "

V'lera, after having a full day, decided to feed Surak and then head to the gym. She had a lot on her mind usually a nice long stationary bike ride did the trick. It took her long to find the gym. She did have a few rough turns and lost her way a couple of times but she was still learning the ship.

Once inside the gym area she dropped her bag and looked around. There were not many people there and she made a mental note that this was the sweet time slot where there were not many people.

She found a bike and began her routine. Her mind started turning things over again. Perhaps after the work out she would send a message to Sonak. She needed help and he was the most qualified person to help her....or at least give her advice.

And as if on cue, the door slid open at the far end and admitted the chief science officer of the Hera. Instead of his usual science blue and black uniform, he was dressed in a peculiarly Vulcan attire; high pointed soft boots, ample silky black knee length pants and a V cut silvery shirt that left his lean, wiry arms bare. In his hands, he carried a long lenght of double flat leathery white belts ending with small silvery metal balls.

His long stride sent him straight to a glass-walled section of the gym where an elevated circular fighting mat stood; the combat mat, where ancient disciplines like Terran forms of wrestling, from Sumo to Greco Roman, and up to modern ambojitsu were usually practiced. There was no one there at the moment, which seem to suit him just fine.

''Computer,'' he said in his deep, flat voice; '' Adjust room gravity to 2G and ambient temperature to fifty degrees Celsius. Reduce oxygen content by twenty-five percent. Return to standard parameters if anyone else enters this area.''

Environemental modifications recorded and implemented,'' answered the disembodied female voice of the ship's computer. ''Enter when ready.''

He stepped on the platform and stood in the center, still for a long moment, the strange long double belt hanging limply in his hands like a dead headless snake.

Then it came alive.

With a sudden explosion of speed and power, the length of leather became as taunt as a seel rod as it twirled around him while he gyrated in a very precise pattern accross the circular area. it was both elegant and frightening at the same time, the white wighted belt becoming a blur of motion, filling the air with an ominous whistling. between his hands, the leather stretched and contracted, one moment swinging far and wide the whole length of the mat, the next spinning so close to his body it seemed to almost pass through him. It was a dance of both grace and power that lasted several uninterrupted minutes, lightning fast one moment, deceptively slow the next.

When Sonak finally stopped, he was sitting on the floor, the leather coiled around his arms, his breathing heaving slightly, the flimsiest sheen of sweat over his green-tinted skin. Vulcans usually didn't pant or sweat, by virtue of their evolution on a harsh hot and rocky planet. To have him pant and sweat even this little meant that the energy he had expended during this exercise would have possibly sent a human into a near coma.

Now he was sitting cross-legged, eyes close, as if asleep, as much a living incarnation of stillness as he had been one of furious activity a moment before.

V'lera finished on the machines. She decided she'd go home and rest but as she passed the small area where the matts were laid out and where many seemed to come for martial arts practice she noted the very person she was thinking about. She stood at the door debating weather to disturb him. He was clearly meditating. Perhaps she could figure things out herself. She was never good at asking for help. She avoided it. She had been just about to turn and leave when she was stopped in her tracks.

''Greetings, Lieutenant. May I be of service?''

Sonak's eyes were open and looking at her, his face his unchanging mask of pale jade, as bland and expressioneless as his deep, measured voice. The faint sheen of sweat had already evaporated from his body, leaving the faintest hint of sandalwood, and his breathing was as slow and regular as if he had done no exertion at all barely a moment before. he remained seated on the floor, his long, metal weighted double strap of white leather coiled at his crossed feet.

"I do not mean to disturb you. Perhaps I can make an appointment..."

He stood up, winding the weighted strap in his hands as he spoke.

''Appointments are not the usual way for a science officer to meet requests from shipmates. Besides, I just concluded my training regimen. If this is the proper moment for you, I can oblige.''

She was going to refuse but she needed his help. "That would be much appreciated. Thank you." She stepped aside to let him finish gathering things while she pondered a way to ask what she needed.

The Vulcan acknowledged with a small nod.

''I will get back in uniform and meet you at the time and place of your convenience.''

"I will do the same. Shall we meet in one hour...as for the location I will defer to you."

''An hour then. As I am uncognizant of what you exactly ask of me, it would be more logical for you to determine the best whereabouts for this meeting.''

"Perhaps the observation lounge," she said opting for some privacy.

''The observation lounge, one hour, '' he acknowledged, nodded to her then walked out to the showering area.

V'lera went back to her quarters, showered, changed back into her uniform and was even able to get a cup of tea before heading to the observation lounge. She was the first to arrive and sat down to watch the stars. She almost smiled but held it back. Watching the stars was something that had always given her a sense of calm. It made her feel less alone.

Exactly one hour after they had set up their meeting, Sonak arrived wearing his customary uniform and came straight to her.

''I am fully available for you, Lieutenant.''

She was momentarily surprised as if she'd forgotten he was coming. She'd been lost in though. "Thank you sir." She recovered. "I have two issues I wished to speak to you about." She motioned for him to sit. "The more...urgent... of the two is professional."

He complied and sat at an angle from her, his hands joined in his lap. Although he could feel the echoes of her thoughts, he made no effort to perceive anything beyond what she would willingly convey with her words. So he remained silent and waited for her to speak her mind.

"I have recently come across a young ensign. She has had several roommates within the past few months and none lasted long. I spoke with her a few times after which she agreed to allow me to look at her quarters. Her roommates, with whom I spoke, indicated that she was somewhat messy. She is a collector of high quality historical replicas." The truth of it was that the woman was a hoarder. High quality replica's but a hoarder nonetheless. "I believe that her artifact replicas are quite...fascinating and have convinced her to allow you, if you are willing, to look at them. I was hoping that you would be open to perhaps allowing some science office space to create a display for her...perhaps allow her to see that she can part with objects."

Sonak thought for a very brief moment before answering.

''I am not an Historian so my... looking at it... might not be very useful. I would suggest having our xenohistory department make a survey and estimate would be more appropriate. But I have no qualm in agreeing to your request if you deem the effort relevant.''

he made a pause before continuing, as if again looking inward for a brief moment.

''As for allocating space for display, this is more the perview of the ship's management department. That being said, I recall that Commander Paris, she who is my wife, complained about the spartan nature of my department. The Ensign be willing, her artifacts could be displayed across the science deck, wherever appropriate. A rotation of pieces could also be scheduled so that she does not feel parted with her own belongings but instead benefiting her crewmates with her personal contribution.''

"Thank you Commander. I asked you because the young Ensign was weary of having anyone come in to look at her items....and for the fact that you are Vulcan. You would not...have an emotional response to seeing her quarters. Right now anything but detached neutrality would be harmful." She studied him. "Would you be willing to come down yourself to look at the items?"

''I am currently at your disposal,'' he prepeated his tone unchanging.

She gave a nod. "Perhaps a neutral first meeting. She is completing her shift soon. I was to meet with her for tea. Would you join us?"

''Considering the premisce you provided, it would seems to be the best course of action, '' he agreed again.

She was glad he seemed to forget that she had told him there were two things she wished to speak to him about. She was glad she had something that could fill the time. She was second guessing her personal conversation. She wished to ask him for help yet asking for help, at least for herself, was a foreign concept for her. "We should go." They had some time but the longer they stayed the more there was a chance that she'd ask him to help her.

Sonak rose and fell in step with her. He didn't need his reawakening enhanced telepathy to perceive that there was something else on her mind; it was plain in her slightly distant eyes, her rigid face, her deliberate movements, her forcibly neutered voice. Living with Humans for so long and now intimately with one of them, sharing her thoughts with his on a regular basis, his understanding of emotions was beyond most Vulcans could ever fathom.

One thing he knew was that, given time, if anything worried her and she felt he could provide any help, she would eventually tell him. There was a logic in emotions and he was learning to understand it. And that implied letting emotions follow their own course.

He walked beside her, silent, hands in back, not looking at her but visibly open to anything she would want to say; just as he followed her despite being right at her left side.

Feeling relieved that he said nothing as they walked a ways she broke the silence. "Have you been to Vulcan recently?" She mentally chided herself for asking.

If he perceived her reaction, his deep but monocord voice did not hint at it.

''My wife and I recently went to Vulcan at her request. She wanted to experience directly the distinctiveness of my homeworld. Miss Az'Prel also came with us during this shore leave, as she only knew the Vulcan of her original Mirror Universe; a quite... different Vulcan, to say the least.''

His grey eyes met hers.

''What about you, if I may inquire?''

She gave a nod. "Prior to coming here. I had a meeting with T'Mira of the high command. She requested my presence. I spent some time on Mount Seleya as well. Vulcan is...a place where I feel grounded." She had left and never looked back except on the Holodeck but she had missed the planet. "It was the first time I had returned since leaving for the Academy."

''It is a fact that life as a Starfleet officer does not always favor much leisure time close to home,'' Sonak observed. ''It is even in some cases a central reason to join Starfleet.''

She gave a nod. "Yes. I.. left for the Academy to get away from Vulcan. But only for the purposes of a fresh start. I ... did not belong there, on Vulcan. I was never considered a true Vulcan." There was some pain behind her words that she tried to hide.

Sonak's eyebrow lifted slightly.

''Long are past the days when Vulcan was under the influence of a perverted government faction. After all, Vulcan is, among the founding members of the Federation, the one member who most advocates for tolerance; more than that, full openess to all sentient beings. In this century, no sane Vulcan would ever follow what Earthers have called the ''No True Scotsman'' fallacy. Even in the last century, Humans like Amanda Grayson and Doctor Miranda Jones or half Vulcans like Spock were treated with the respect any sentient being deserve, right there on the homeworld. Because of the IDIC philosophy embraced by Vulcan, you being Vulcan or not is irrelevant for any follower of Surak's teachings... as it should be. Anything else would highly... illogical.''

Her sugestions wer making him obviously curious. It was obvious in her words that something very odd had happened to her. But it was for her to reveal it or not. Even less for him to pry. So he did not ask questions, just showed that he was ready to listen... and to help if he could, and if she wished it.

"You are taking a very...naïve view of things. Not all Vulcans are accepting. Some make it appear that they follow the IDIC principle yet to do not. But, that being said it cannot be helped. All species have their prejudice and it is another factor that unites us. You are right some do embrace it but others do not. It is not something to assign an emotions to, it is just a fact." They entered the turbolift and it hummed to life ferrying its passengers to the new level.

This time his eyebrow did rose up.

''In six point one decades of conscious life, it is the first time anyone called me... naive, in two universes,'' Sonak said, his tone as flat as before. ''Interesting...''

He let a few seconds of silence settle the air in the turbolift cabin.

''It is a fact that I am not cognizant of each and every individual in existence, past or present, '' he admitted; ''but it is also a fact that neither ignorance nor emotion color my judgment. Not because of any achievement of my part; simply because I am Vulcan.''

He paused, aware that he was talking to an emotional being that would not interpret his words with only pure logic. Decades among such beings had taught him to modulate his words accordingly.

''Logic is as integral of what it is to be Vulcan as genetics. Prejudice is by definition most illogical; thus the very antithesis of Vulcan nature. I must therefore point out the error of your assertion. Prejudice is not at all any part of what unites Vulcans to others sentient species, as you state. It is, by it's total absence in the Vulcan heart, what fundamentally distinguishes Vulcans from all the rest. As a species, it is the very distinctiveness we bring to the combinations. More that that; prejudice is detrimental to unity even among Vulcans only. It takes no counsellor to understand that a Vulcan, as illogical in thought or behavior as you propose, might do fine in Human, Andorian, Tellarite or any other emotionally driven society; but among Vulcans, such individual would be a very obvious cripple, unable to function at all in Vulcan society.''

His steely grey eyes went to hers.

''If you would be cognizant of such an individual, I hypothesize that, given your professional credentials, you would have wanted to provide help to such an individual. If it was in your power to do so of course.''

She shrugged, "As a child I was no counselor. I did however assist with lensing out one such individual. He was sent, by the Vulcan High Command, to Rura Penthe. As for Vulcans on Earth I have met some that are the poster of IDIC and others that are not. They look down on Humans feel themselves superior to any race who they feel is crippled by lack of logic." There was no emotion to her words now. She did sound Vulcan. "It could be a case of what Human's call nature versus nurture. Their exposure to the race, mixed with curiosity, calls for them to take on some of humanity's more emotional qualities. As for your statement I would provide help to those individuals unless, of course, they are an Elder within the Vulcan Elders' Council."

The door opened and they walked towards the mess hall. "I still stand by my observation. You are quite naïve and I sense you see the best in people until they prove otherwise. It is...what humans call a charming quality."

Sonak shook his head.

''There is nothing positive in making presuppositions before facts are known. I assure you, I do not. And I am sorry to say this, but everything you just said is worse than illogical; it is wrong.''

His tone did not change despite the calm force of conviction of his words.

''I would propose that your own emotions affect your judgment, possibly your memory. First, your description of Vulcan behavior; It is anecdotical of well over two centuries ago, before the katra of Surak was recovered. It is not so today. Recall that, when comes the surge of reproductive hormones, the Vulcan male can die from the inner conflict between his biology and his logic. And recall that female Vulcans never experience such distress. After a near extinction event and thousands of years, logic is now nature to Vulcans. It takes a mental disorder like Bendi Syndrome to rip a Vulcan from his innate logic.Vulcans don't follow logic; they ARE logical.''

Sonak gave her a few seconds to process the data before adding to it.

''You are a consellor. You know it is difficult for some to cope with the specific outlook of Vulcans; because it is different, or because they don't agree with it. Thus, some feel a Vulcan's attitude annoying, sometimes even threatening. They would call Vulcans ''arrogant, '' ''smug'', ''self-important,'' because they find it difficult to reconcile their feelings with the absence of those in a people THEY would, wrongly, envy for it or, even more wrongly, fear to be superior because of it. I think you would call it projection.''

He looked at her to gauge her reaction.

''A Vulcan ''feeling superior'' is not only a contradiction in terms, it would factually demonstrate that he or she is not, because such assertion is illogical; and if you think logic is the basis of that assessment, it becomes worse than illogical; it is irrational. Such irrationality would make that Vulcan an obvious mental case and removed from any responsibility to be treated.''

He paused but he was not done yet.

''Second; having a Vulcan sent to Rura Penthe, let alone by the High Command, is utter nonsense. I do not say this as an insult to you; just as a statement of fact. Whatever made you beleive this can only be due to either a mistake on your part, or a deception from the part of someone else... or both.''

Sonak felt important to take the time to explain the facts.

''Criminals in the Federation are sent to a Federation penal colony for rehabilitation, not to die in a Klingon forced labor camp, which Rura Penthe is. It is not only against Vulcan principles, it is also against Federation law. Further, there is no extradition protocol between the Federation and the Klingon Empire; and which would be only valid for a citizen of the Empire, not a Federation citizen like all Vulcans are. Moreover, aside from not having that kind of authority, the Vulcan High Command would never send any individual, especially a Vulcan, to a sentence of death by forced labor, let alone in Klingon Space. Only Klingons, and in very exceptional cases, would do so, for prisonners of war and those condemned under their laws violated within their space; something the Federation AND Vulcan High Command would both strongly protest against.''

His eyes bore into hers.

''No fact, nor logic, support your claim. Whoever told this to you was either delusional or lying, plain and simple.''

She stopped in her tracks, a new light dawning in her eyes as she stared at him. It took her a moment before she could talk again.

''Lieutenant Commander Sonak; do you see what this could mean?''

The Vulcan nodded gravely.

''It is logical to assume that you may have been unknowingly compromised, as part of a clever subversive covert plan from parties yet unknown.''

She paled visibly at the idea, working hard to keep control of her Orion half.

''That Vulcan may have been in fact... Romulan...''

''A Romulan in a Klingon death camp, although highly unlikely, is much less so than a Vulcan,'' Sonak agreed. ''And the details you were given and provided do align with a cover story based on insufficient data a spying operation may be plagued with. However, there are other possibilities; this alleged Romulan might be himself manipulated by some other belligerent force to get to us.. through you; or he might be altered to look like a Vulcan. But at this point, this is just pointless speculation.''

''I must report this to Starfleet Command!''

The Vulcan nodded again.

''Indeed; an extensive debriefing with Starfleet Intelligence seems to be in order to help ascertain the truth behind your story... and all it may imply. Lieutenant, you may very well make the difference between a successful infiltration operation and saving Starfleet, if not the Federation, from covert malign influence.''

She straightened up, calm and composure once more asserting themselves on her greenish features.

''I shall do my duty to the best of my abilities, Sir.''

''Very well, Lieutenant; please report at once to the captain and explain the situation. She will ensure you get a transfer to Starfleet Intelligence without delay.''

He looked at her a moment before continuing.

''I am confident you shall serve most adequately in this new, important duty, as you were starting to do here. In the meantime, I will look to assist your friend with her... compulsion, as per your professional counsel.''

''Thank you Sir.''

''No, Lieutenant; thank YOU for bringing this up and thus possibly avert an insidious threat to the Federation.''

She almost smiled.

''We come to serve.''

He raised his hand in the Vulcan salute, to which she responded with her own. His voice was solemn and sincere.

''Your service Honors us.''

Tovanna finished with her first shift and was ready for exploration. She went to her quarters to change from her uniform to her standard long dress with ballet flats, grabbing her PaDD on the way out to explore the ship. She was determined to find a small spot she could read and call her own, undisturbed. After sixty years of time on her parents estate she was not used to such a confined area. She knew one of the few areaas that would be occupied in a huge ship, the less used cargo bays. She checked which cargo bays were least accessed and made her way to one seemed accessed on a scheduled basis, though not often. She found a nice corner behind the cargo containers and sat down with her PaDD. It was quiet and secluded, perfect to be alone for a bit and a space wide enough to feel open. It might need a pillow or two for her next visit but it seemed Tova was now free to find herself among her books and vids. She hoped it would remain undisturbed for a while at least as she began to read.

It was unconventional for a first officer to call the captain of the vessel to her office, but Rita had chairs and room to breathe. While this was an official meeting, she also wanted to take the opportunity to mentor Dox, as this too was something she needed to learn. No better way than to give her a voice in the matter today. Stepping out from around her desk, Rita parked her butt up against the reproduction of the classic triangular conference table. Scavenging on her desk behind her, she grabbed a PaDD and waited for the others to arrive.

"Computer, dim the lights please. About thirty percent illumination, with a shaft of sunlight streaming in from starboard 105 mark 22, relative to the bowline. Thank you," Rita had already moved to a visual scan of the room as the light shifted, and she nodded with satisfaction at the results. "The future is amazing. Well done, Computer."

"You're welcome, Commander Paris," the ship's computer replied politely. Whether it was true sentience or an algorithm that responded to her own polite dialect, Rita would never know. But to her, it was the voice of the Hera, the voice of the mighty starship herself. As the most important shipmate aboard, Rita always figured the miracle-working Nebula class deserved some respect. Thus she always asked and thanked the computer for its service.

Having been curious about the call, Enalia cleared her schedule and headed out to meet her first officer immediately, arriving just in time to see the breathtaking scenery and interaction of lights. "Well... Either you have bad news and are trying to distract me with a light show or you're trying to woo me and you're about to pull out a picnic basket."

As Enalia crossed the room and elegantly sat down in one of the chairs across from Rita, she continued. "As we're both married and I've never known you to be into women... I'm going to assume you have something unpleasant on your mind."

"There was Cindy at the Academy... but I think everybody had a Cindy at some point, right?" Rita joked- well, half-joked, as she remembered Cindy, whose alternate reality doppelganger was most likely long dead by now. "Anyway, yes, I'm afraid mostly bad news, Captain. I'd have come to you with it alone, but I thought it might be time for our Miss Dox to be a party to such conversations, so I invited her as well. Which, as the time for the meeting I set was only five minutes and she was across the ship, she should be arriving right about..."

There was a pause as Paris stared at the door, disappointed in her mistimed attempt to be cool as the door slid open, admitting Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox.

Standing in the entrance at attention the young and still relatively freshly promoted Romulan woman was a little nervous as to why the Captain was also in this meeting, but her nerves had begun to evolve a bit as she began to grow into her responsibilities. Now, instead of worrying about what she might have done, she instead began to worry about what might be wrong on larger scales. "Lieutenant Commander Dox, reporting as ordered, Commander."

"At ease, Miss Dox, Come in and have a seat, if you will," Paris gestured to the chair beside the one the captain was occupying, while Rita still sat on the edge of her desk, rather than behind it. Thus the distance between them all was greatly diminished, making the gathering seem less formal. "I was just mentioning to the Captain that you need this particular command experience."

"So," the gold-clad commander tapped the edge of the desk behind her. "We've all met the new Counselor, Lieutenant Junior Grade V'lera. I thought we should come together and discuss our impressions thus far. Miss Dox, why don't you go first. Ordinarily, a meeting such as this is just the Captain and First Officer having this discussion after individual consultations with the other senior staff, but color me unconventional. Now, as a qualifier, I'm not looking for nice platitudes, here. I'm asking your professional opinion in a small command level meeting, understood?"

Folding her hands on the table, Dox took a moment to collect her thoughts rather than rush into an answer. It took a few seconds before the young officer cleared her throat slightly and spoke. " I've met with Lieutenant V'lera twice now. Once, in her official capacity as ship's counselor. And once in a more personal encounter."

"In both instances, she made multiple efforts to put me at ease and, idiosyncrasies aside, seemed professional enough." Dox paused as she thought further on the unusual half-Vulcan, half-Orion woman that was the topic of discussion. "That said, I do have… concerns. My impression in our second encounter was much more revealing. She exhibited signs of what almost appear to be PTSD and deep emotional issues that… well… were a bit too familiar to me."

"Little things that I recognized. She avoids eye contact, claiming it's painful for her. She indicated significant childhood traumas that appear to have gone untreated. She evaded some questions I had. I tried to reach out to her and see if I could help and seemed to make some progress, but it has left the dynamic a bit .. unbalanced." Dox looked at both women, pursing her lips lightly. "I found myself counseling the counselor."

"Thank you Miss Dox, well, done. I'll go next," Paris volunteered. "For someone who purported to be a student of logic, I found Az'Prel, who has had no formal training in logic, to be more logical. Given that the past few counselors have been self-absorbed, remarkably damaged, and overall poor excuses for compassionate sentient life, forget about officers on a high-stress high-demand starship like the Hera, I approached this counselor skeptically. A service animal was a surprise. When I asked her why she had sought out this assignment, she told me that her life had been a series of overcoming challenges and she found that she grew the most within those challenges. Yet she never met any challenges when I posed them. She claimed she had come to heal and to be healed."

"Perhaps most disturbing was a video review she had from another counselor who lauded her as the next coming, that honestly sounded like she'd used pheromones on them to get them to praise her so," Paris added, admitting, "Honestly it was very off-putting. No actual recognition of the issues that were pretty plain to see, just praise for her wondrous work. Given the level of conversational and people skills I saw from her, I just couldn't buy it, although Dedjoy verified the recording. The officer in question is currently on medical leave, so I couldn't confirm or refute the report. Then there are the conversations she had with Doctor Mah and Mr. Sonak. My favorite was that she's afraid of doctors and hypos, and that she and the Vulcan High Council had a Kolinahr committed to Rura Penthe, which is a statement that makes zero sense, and I couldn't find any record of, unsurprisingly."

"I suspect brainwashing, honestly," Paris admitted. "Because far too much about this woman who claims to be a counselor just doesn't add up. No one could graduate the Academy as damaged as she is, forget about getting the clearance by Starfleet Intelligence to be assigned to the Hera. I don't know if she's been damaged or if this is a bad personality overlay or what it is, but that woman is no one I want counseling anyone on this crew. Captain?"

The Trill woman nodded thoughtfully, things starting to line up. "I received a suspicious report from Doc Power earlier about her needing meds for migraines and sleep deprivation. Taken alone, that's not entirely out of the ordinary for an assignment change from a station to a ship, but then he said she started asking about meds that blocked touch telepathy and that she refused to give any specifics. He ended up giving her the same medical database that the computer would have, but decided to report it to me directly. After that, I asked Maru to start monitoring her directly."

"She hasn't acted overly suspicious, but it's clear that she's definitely not running entirely on Starfleet coils." Enalia then paused seemingly for dramatic effect. "I wouldn't be surprised if our least favorite Admiral signed her transfer orders. Anyway, get her off the ship. Quietly."

Listening, Dox was momentarily concerned about interjecting without being directly addressed but pushed that anxiety down. She had been asked to be here and asked for her thoughts. And she had thoughts, so if she was a Lieutenant Commander, she decided to at least try and act like it.  Swallowing for a moment, she looked over at her Captain and Commander and replied to Rita's previous comment. "She's definitely been damaged, Commander."

"She took me to a program of hers on the Holodeck where she goes to meditate. It was a meticulous recreation of tunnels she claims that she lived in for over a year on Vulcan that run beneath Mount Selaya and the Forge. She says she spent years programming the simulation from memory. Everything about that moment was... well, it's hard to describe. But it was an extremely traumatic experience for her. Her words and body language. I knew it well. It's the same for me when I think about the Forager... the ship I grew up on. Or... or the brig of the Warbird I was kept on. Her reactions were the same. She's got serious trauma that's gone untreated. I re-read her personnel file. There's NOTHING about spending over a year in tunnels by herself in her psych file."

“Well, to my mind that just provides more evidence of her lack of fitness for duty,” the gold-clad commander nodded thoughtfully. “I’m having her sent to Starfleet psych on Earth for a full evaluation, along with a recommendation that the counselor who sent her video recommendation be screened as well. With all of that said, I have a proposal to put forth, with your permission, Captain?”

At a nod of assent from the spotted mistress and commander of the mighty starship, the throwback officer put forth her idea. “As old and curmudgeonly as this sounds, back in my day, we didn’t have counselors on starships. We had shipmates. You had a problem, you reached out to another member of the crew. You talked to your superior or your peers, we helped one another through our problems, our crisis, and our issues.”

“In the modern-day I can see the reason for shipboard counselors. But so far every counselor from Starfleet I have met makes me look like a paragon of mental health, even with my issues,” Paris half-joked. “They seem dysfunctional to the point of being a danger to others, and frankly, I would prefer not to go through this again.”

“I would like to propose that moving forward, we eliminate the position on the USS Hera,” the blonde bombardier expressed gravely. ”We do not need a deeply damaged counselor who has no business being in Starfleet, forget about counseling others on their issues when they themselves need more help than can be provided in this environment. The crew doesn’t need to be put through this, and frankly, I have the utmost respect for Starfleet Psych- they put me back together years ago, and today I’m a reasonably functional officer. But the people they are sending us… I can’t see how any of them passed a psych screening, forget about them being qualified to counsel others. I would very strongly recommend that we eliminate the position moving forward, Captain. Miss Dox, your thoughts?”

This time, Dox chimed in a bit more comfortably, though still respectfully. "I have to agree. Ultimately, if I have to use myself as an example, that's fine. But you are both very aware of... my various issues. But you and the rest of the core crew are all aware of them because I've been able to come to you all when I've needed help and you've both confided in me as well. We lean on each other. This crew is a family, and a part of our strength lies in being the support we can all always rely on."

"And after certain missions, visits to a Starbase for evaluations is standard protocol anyway, which satisfies regulations." Dox added, adding a technical detail to offset what she realized was less a professional observation as much as a personal one.

"I concur," Enalia replied almost a bit too readily before composing herself. "We've had such a bad rash of them... Plus life aboard a vessel like this adds so much extra stress. I'll just give the Admiral a page of political BS about needing to keep our mental health professionals removed from the source and location of our trauma or some shit and she'll buy it. Are there any other issues or concerns?"

“Security will sweep all of her accesses, quarters and any crewmen she has interacted with,” Paris replied, as she already had this plan ready in anticipation. “I’m planning on having her quarters packed up after she’s already en route to Starfleet Psych under guard. As fragmented as her personality and memories are I suspect Romulan tampering, so I am approaching this as another Varnok scenario.”

“So long as there are no objections, she gets beamed onto a shuttle already in motion and her personal effects will follow once Security has had the opportunity to comb them over. If she’s just crazy, fine, she can file complaints with the fleet later. But if she is genuinely a danger to the ship and crew, I will not be informing her of her removal, then giving her time to activate and cause mayhem. Not on my watch,” Paris offered darkly. She had not been aboard when Ensign Varnok had been turned, and it was still a sore spot with her that he got past her screening process, which was even now removing another potential threat from the mighty starship.

“So that, Miss Dox, is a command-level review of a potential threat, and the decision-making process that ensues,” the ancient astronaut explained. “It’ll be you who is called upon to make these calls before you know it, so I wanted for you to be a part of the process this time and get some experience when it isn’t your name on the line for the orders. Any questions?”

The red-headed Romulan woman didn't sigh or visibly slump, but internally she felt the weight of the moment on her shoulders regardless of if her name would go on the report or not. Shaking her head lightly, she replied somewhat plainly with the slightest hint of emotion in her voice.

"No, Commander. Just regret that it had to come to this, but I understand the need and the process. In the same way that I needed to work with Intel Command and Starfleet psych on Earth to earn the right to come back on duty, there's simply no room for this many valid concerns to go unaddressed. And there are too many issues here to ignore for the good of the crew, the ship, and Starfleet."

"We can't regret the decisions we make," Enalia started, doing her best to compose her words as she went, her brows furrowing. "We can only make the best decisions we're able to with the time that's afforded us and hope that history judges us fairly for it." She then paused and turned to address Dox directly. "You and I have been in a similar position to hers... And so have others... So now that we've made the decision to remove her from the ship, it's up to Command to handle any further decisions, possible treatment, and actions. It will be a long, hard road for her, but she will not be left behind."

“Because Starfleet is a promise,” Paris quoted. “My life for yours, your life for mine, and nobody gets left behind.”

The three sat in silence at that, the weight of the decision evident upon them all.

Things had been quiet for a few days on the Hera, which was a blessing all on it's own. As Enalia filled out reports in the Captain's chair, she glanced around at the well kept Hope series Intel bridge module that the ship had been outfitted with. Pale blues, greys, and a chair at every station were some of the niceties that she had fought hard for so her command crew wouldn't have to worry about stress in emergencies.

Like right now.

Suddenly, a bright rainbow of color flooded into the bridge, leaving three figures standing in the middle of where it faded. The ship's systems automatically triggered the intruder alert at the intrusion, but Enalia was quick to silence it as a dozen well-trained security members rolled out onto the bridge, weapons drawn.

At the helm, the ship’s Chief Flight Control Officer, Mnhei’sahe Dox, immediately brought the mighty nebula class Starship to full stop, shooting a nod to her Captain, who knew to expect her officers to know what to do without being ordered as such. To the side of the Captain’s seat, Commander Rita Paris looked up at the onboarding newcomers as well, ready for whatever was to come next.

The three that had had suddenly intruded upon her bridge via the Bifrost magic were people that Enalia knew at the very least, though their attire was a bit confusing as they began singing.

"Aaaand.... weeeee..... cordially invite you to a paaaaarty~~~~... A paaaaarty~~~~ A paaaarty~~~~ for the great and poooooowerful Schwein's bachelorette-hoooooooood~~~~~" As the three in white getups and flat hats sang for several minutes this way, Enalia stood and watched with slight amusement as confused looks were exchanged among the bridge officers.

Once they finished up, the one man among them snapped his fingers and their outfits changed into standard Asgardian fare.

“Schwein, you silly piggy, is this your idea?" Enalia asked, immediately going in for a hug without hesitation.

"Nein, it was my soon to be brother-in-law's," the Baroness replied, gently returning that hug.

Enalia then moved on to Hildr, giving the strongest Valkyrie a hug as well. "Hildr! How have you been?"

The larger Asgardian, on the other hand, didn't pull her punches... or her hugs... and seemed to squeeze the life out of Enalia. "I am wonderful! I have been looking forward to drinking with the Valkyrie that Schwein tells me resides aboard your vessel!"

"I'm sure you're about to get your chance," the spotted woman replied, trying to get air back into her lungs. She then looked the third person over suspiciously. "And you, I've seen in family portraits. You'll forgive me if I'm a bit suspicious, Loki. You don't have the best reputation this side of the river." Rather than a hug, she at least offered him a handshake.

“Really, Captain Telvan? So formal a greeting for one that will practically be family.” The tall, lean figure decked in green, black and gold leaned in with a slight bow and took Enalia’s offered hand and gave it a perfunctory shake before turning it, back up, and delivering the slightest of kisses to it’s back. “My sister-to-be has spoken so highly of you and yours that I feel I know you all so very well already, though I look forward to making your acquaintances more thoroughly in the events set to unfold. And your own reputation is more than interesting enough to, I hope, allow me the slightest of leeways.”

"I'm cautious, Loki. Not inhospitable." With that, Enalia glanced around at those on the bridge and nodded to the security to stand down. "I believe the normal amount of security will suffice for now. Shall we adjourn to the conference room to discuss things?"

Taking a quick hug from the Baroness that turned into getting whirled about on the bridge, than a wary arm-clasp from Hildr, Rita's fingers barely making it halfway around the woman's forearm, Rita Paris drew up at Loki, the dropped a courtly bow.

"Lord Loki, it is my honor. While I'm certain you are already well aware, my name is Rita Paris. As I understand it, you deserve great thanks from me, which you shall have- both heartfelt and unlimited. You have done me a great service, and I am deeply grateful."

"Ah yes. The daughter of Paris... I've enjoyed myself in my visits to your namesake city. You and your exploits are known well in the fabled halls of Asgard, as is your predilection for giving the fates far more work to do." The lean figure said with a wry grin as he leaned in.

"As for your boon, for today let it be enough that I would be a poor God indeed to allow a sister of the heavens to pass from such a thing as age. The details of our... arrangement... can be discussed another time." Loki nodded towards Rita, still grinning like the cat who are the canary.

"As you say," Rita agreed easily, in fluent Francais. Gods were prone to flattery, and they appreciated good manners. The wily trickster god, she suspected, was no exception. Best to get off on the right foot, she figured. "Then let's away to the conference room, where details will be discussed. Miss Dox, you're with us." Tapping her comm badge as she picked up a PaDD off her station in passing, Paris called out the order. "Petty Officer Jablonski, report to Conference Room 1B."

"Aye." Dox said from the helm as she logged out and typed up an order to her bridge relief to take over as she followed the Golden clad Commander.

Offering a wink and gun fingers to the hulking Hildr, Paris ushered the visitors into the bridge's conference room. As it was the first time she'd been in it, Paris looked around in marvel. "Captain, if there is all this space on Deck 1, why in the name of that stars is your office so small?"

"First off, I'm not fond of staff meetings, so I tend to hold them in the deck two conference room rather than this one behind the bridge so they're easier for everyone to gather in. Second off..." Enalia shrugged as she punched up a set of mugs and a pitcher of iced tea as well as a pot of coffee, carrying everything to the conference table. "I prefer my office for smaller meetings. This..." She waved at the massive, open windows that lined one entire wall. "Just feels way too open and exposed to me, I guess."

"Wise and cautious." The trickster God said, surveying the room. "Every bit the woman of two worlds my soon-to-be Sister has spoken of with such flourish. Nobility backed by a warriors cunning." It was a wild bit of flattery that felt as sincere as Rita was flat chested.

The lack of sincerity was not lost in Enalia, but she could still take a compliment, hollow though it seemed. "Flattery will get you nowhere, my friend. However, I do appreciate the compliment. I do the best I can for a Pirate Queen and a Starfleet Captain."

"Ja, und she is quite the trickster as well at times, though no match for my soon-to-be brother when he sets his mind to it as I have heard." Schwein was grinning from ear to ear, though it was unclear whether from nerves or from excitement.

"My reputation, I will say, is both well earned and also a series of very... one-sided accounts," Loki said with a wry grin. "Hopefully, the... festivities to come will give me the opportunity to dispel some of your preconceptions. But perhaps the verbal foreplay should make way for the meat of why we are here among you and yours Captain and Commander."

"Well, I know Asgardian parties are legendary," replied Enalia, motioning for their guests to be seated. "So whatever you have in store for us is sure to be epic... Though I also expect it to be filled with tricks and mayhem, as your reputation demands."

Internally, Rita had been operating under the assumption that she was planning the bachelorette party, and she had made reservations and plans in advance for the occasion, assuming it would fall to her to do so. But now it seemed the brother-in-law was making the bachelorette party arrangements, so she changed course to adjust to the circumstances.

“So what’s the plan, then, as I am gathering that you’re the host for this girl’s night out?” Paris asked the god of mischief. “Do we need to dress a certain way, have any preparations?” Mentally she started backtracking her own plans, noting what she would have to cancel and reorganize.

“Not a host, Commander. Nor have I any plans of my own. Simply a desire to join in with whatever festivities you might have planned..." Loki said with a grin as with the tilt of their head, they shimmered slightly and their features shifted. Where moments ago sat a figure that presented itself as male, now sat quite the reverse. "...as this rather fluid aspect of my nature is as well-known as my reputation as a trickster."

Shaking out their hair, longer, black waves of hair draped down Loki's svelte shoulders as the now Goddess waggled their eyebrows. "As for your plans themselves, I would greatly hope that fabulous attire meant to stop the hearts of the Gods should be a requirement."

At that, Dox blushed a mild shade of green, feeling very much like a short, chubby troll among the statuesque women in the room.

"Of the shieldmaidens chosen by the Lady Schwein, not a one of you has been untouched by the divine. Thus, as my sister-to-be considers you all family, I would know my future family better." Loki added with the slightest hint of seriousness in their voice.

“Fair enough. As for your gender fluidity,” Paris observed, not missing a beat, “that’s literally legendary, so no surprises there, Lady Loki. Although that does make you coming along on the Bachelorette party make a bit more sense,” Paris chuckled. “Well, if we’re getting started now, I suppose we should convene down on Deck 10 at the Goddess Salon, so we can start the mani/pedis and the hair styling and the pampering package that I signed us up for to get us ready to go out. Now, while I have the reservations covered, this is a bit of a distance to travel, so am I safe in assuming that the Bifrost will be transporting us to our destination?”

"Lord Heimdall will, indeed, cast his gaze upon us to facilitate our travel arrangements. Goddesses are rarely accustomed to traveling as leisurely as even this mightily vessel does. Particularly when frivolity, wine, and a healthy dose of debauchery are the prizes." Loki said with a smirk, clearly enjoying themselves. "With the Captain's permission, of course."

At a nod from Enalia, Rita tapped away at the PaDD in her hand, dimming the lights and bringing up a holographic display in the center of the conference table, twinkling with fuzzy outlines and soft glows.

"I considered doing a sort of feasthall norseman sort of thing, but I figured it would be culturally insulting to the Asgardians, and just touristy for the rest of us. Plus, not a real girl's night out party sort of destination. Buuuut, then I got to looking, and it turns out there's a Risan arcology for just about any sort of debauchery from Earth's history you want to visit as a touristy knockoff 88 light years from the original. Come in and take a seat, Big Ethel. You officially went off duty when you walked in that door, the Security logs will note," Paris casually threw out the order as she was winding up for her big pitch.

As Rita started her pitch, Hildr stood and pulled out a seat for Ethel, offering her a hand as she was seated and making slight mooney eyes as she did so, whispering, "I have heard tales of you."

"I wanted somewhere you could get wild, steal a car, wreck a joint, make and lose a fortune all in one night, live to tell about it and make it actually entertaining, where we can drink and snort and cavort, and be ourselves for a night. Ladies, I give you 1976 Las Vegas!" The hazy, indistinct hologram came into sharp view as the shimmering oasis of neon lights, a veritable paean to American greed and excess. Skyscraper towers thrust into the air alongside an Eiffel Tower, a great pyramid, a Statue of Liberty straddling the entrance like the Colossus of Rhodes, and a great number of Earth historical monuments and wonders were jammed into the resort."

"It's... not accurate, historically speaking," Rita admitted. "But they play disco, and there will be dancing, and we can dress up as trashy space pirates and we'll fit right in. And as part of the charge, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. At least that's what their advertising claims, so we'll put this to the test. All right..." Paris paused to take a headcount. "Baroness, Loki, Hildr, Jablonski, Dox, Captain, myself. Is there anyone on the guest list that we're lacking?"

Leaning back in their seat, the Trickster Goddess ran a finger across the surface of the table and let out a light chuckle. "Oh, I forgot many an evening in the original Las Vegas in its heyday. You have my respect, Commander. You have provided quite the canvas for memories to be left unspoken of."

"Now, correct me if I am wrong, but does not the master of Olympus have a child aboard this lovely vessel? One who has fallen under the care to two of your crew?" Loki met Rita's eyes with a sly grin. "As a child of the gods, she has been kept under a mild watch and I find her new parents quite amusing. They are not shieldmaidens, but I would drink and make merry with them in our company if you would allow it."

The child of Zeus was, of course, the baby minotaur that was now being raised by the two ne'er do wells of the R&D department, Gavarus and O'Dell. Who were notorious for their 10-Forward antics, heavy drinking and trouble. In short, chaos on four legs, just add alcohol. Smiling sweetly at Loki, Paris began tapping away at the PaDD, setting it on her lap to type faster, with both hands. "Absolutely. May as well bring along the professional drunks, if we're going to do it right."



The message came across Briaar Gavarus' workscreen in R&D, as well as across O'Dell's visor of her flight suit.

/// You are hereby ordered to accompany the bridal shower of Baroness Schwein von Alcott *see attached file* Dress for a night of barhopping, heavy drinking and regrettable behavior. Ranks are checked at the door. Meet in the Goddess Salon, Deck 10 within the half hour. CDR PARIS \\\

"The bloody fook?!?" Asked O'Dell.

"I have no frickin' Idea, Fee. I... Wait... 'Schwein'? Isn't that German for frickin' 'Pig'? Seriously? Is Commander ThunderRack F***ing with me, here? That's not a real person's name, right?" Gavarus asked on the private comm frequency from her control console. 

Naturally, Mona was also on that channel, also monitoring the tests from her office. "Baroness Schwein von Alcott is one of the captain's oldest friends. I heard that she's supposed to be marrying Thor, the Asgard of Thunder, soon so..."

"So... t...this is f... for real? We're being ordered along on a bachelorette party?" Gavarus griped, all the while turning as beat red as her pint-sized partner's hair as she realized that their chief had obviously heard the less-than-flattering nickname they used for Commander Paris.

Looking at Fiona in her flight suit, the panicking porcine silently mouthed, "Shiiiiiiit."

"Oi, this is another chance fuir us ta do our MIB! Fook alla that ladylike shite. Let's wear shoes wi' soles, pants, have pockets and still look sharp as the devil in a tailored suit, aye? And we should pack phasers since we're both crap in a fight. C'mon, we got to get changed!" With that, the bundle of unlikely chaos and her partner the brains of the outfit shut down the current simulation, logging all of the data and setting the presets to pick up where they left off.

"Ah... yeah, and that means you likely don't have time to properly prepare... Meet me at our secure storage locker and I'll get you a little backup." The brightly plumed avian had felt a hint of what was going on through her bond-mate, but no specifics. Still, she knew something that the R&D department had would be needed that night.

Without wasting any time, Mona hefted her bulk out of her office to a small locker of confiscated equipment that she had yet to scan or experiment on. Punching in the security codes, the cryo-locks unsealed and the drawer she wanted slid open revealing not one, but four Olympian bracers.

One with Meroset Valkyrie designs... One with Danu's designs... One with Hermes' designs... And one with Hera's designs...




Back in the conference room, Enalia was counting off who all was going. "So that's a dozen people so far. We could almost take over a small planet with that many. In fact, didn't we do that one time?"

Smiling lightly at the Captain's comment, Dox was blushing slightly still as she pondered the evening's plans. Her own 'Bachelorette Party' was a series of increasingly violent bar fights that she went on with the ship's Klingon security sisters, Baroness Sarika, and Captain Magnus of the Artan family, of whom she was also a baroness. For that, she was dressed casually in her favorite green denim jacket, some comfortable clothes, and some boots. For this, she would have to step far outside of her comfort zone and hoped that Mona would have some ideas of what she could wear. Not that anything she could put on her thick, stocky, short body would matter next to Enalia, Rita, Loki or Ethel.

"Okay, I think we forgot Thex in all of this. If anyone needs to cut loose for a night away from the family, it's the mother of twins. Any argument?" Paris scanned the room visually, saw no dissent and started tapping out the message.

/// GIRLS NIGHT OUT! Baroness bachelorette tonight. Commander's orders, you are compelled to drop your responsibilities, put on a fabulous dress and join us for a legendary night in Viva Las Vegas! That's the name of the Risan themed arcology we're going to. Here's a link. Anyway, meet us down on 10, on the civilian promenade. The Goddess salon, five starboard of 10-Forward. Time to get your nails done. Rapidemente, mon amie! \\\

Down in her family quarters, the Hera's blue engineer smiled as she looked at the message she gotten on her computer. Carefully putting the small andorian in her incubator next to her twin she placed a kiss on the small girls head before leaving their room. She explained to her family that she'd be away before heading to her room to change. As she was she paused as she found something in her pockets. The bracelets of her armour. A clear sign tonight was going to be one to remember.



"La blue girl is in... ah, alright, I'll broach it." Rita said, receiving Thex's confirmation. "The Captain has a point- there is a considerable confluence of power coming together for this lark of a little night out. The universe often tends to react to such things as this many individuals of such caliber coming together. So with that in mind... since we're already stacking the deck with a goddess, a demigoddess, the pride of the Vakyrykor of Odin in the 25th century..." Rita pointed out, just illustrating the supernature already present. Looking out a bit humbly, Rita spoke up for the goddess of the starship that bore her name.

"Does anyone mind if we invite Hera? I mean, she saved my life and held off Death long enough for the Baroness to regain control of herself and..." Realizing that not everyone present was privy to the story and realizing some tales are best told by those who lived them, Rita realized that brevity was the key here. "Yeah, long story. Point being... are there any objections to Hera attending? I'm sure she'll be on her best behavior, and she did give her bless... also long story."

The wide grin growing on Enalia's face should have been all the confirmation needed, but she waggled a finger in the air to punctuate the point she was about to make. "I wouldn't dream of going out like this without her. Besides, I think she's earned a night out and if anything happens, her number one Amazon will be with us, won't she?" With that last reference, she nodded towards Big Ethel, whom now didn't look quite as big next to Hildr, mightiest of the Valkyries. Both were standing together in the corner, giggling girlishly over something they were keeping to themselves. It seemed as though the two were already hitting it off.

"Ladies? I need everybody head down to Deck 10, now," Paris raised her voice to be heard, then lowered it once she had the crowd's attention. "I will go fetch our resident goddess of the starship Hera, and meet you all there. Miss Washington should be ready and waiting- she's got hairdos, nail colors and a virtual holographic closet of clothes to choose from in every size, replicatable on demand. So make your way down, get your first mimosa of the evening, and let's get an early start on the festivities. I'll be right there to keep things rolling, all right?"

"Also," Paris hastened to add. "This is the Baroness' night. That means we're overlooking rank and military decorum tonight, both Artan and Starfleet. So for tonight we're all peers, regardless- just a very large pack of very dangerous women out for a night on the town as friends to celebrate that one of them is preparing to marry... well, maybe not THE perfect man, but the right one for her, that's for sure. I've told the junior officers, and now I'm emphasizing it to all of you. Silly names and in-jokes and heavy drinking are on the docket, but no titles. Tonight we come together as all subordinate to the Baroness' good time, ja?""

Feeling her wrist, Mnhei'sahe fingered her ceremonial wedding bracelet and something occurred to her. "I'll have to meet you there, Commander. If we are to be wearing the Asgardian bracers, mine are in my quarters, but it shouldn't take more than a moment to catch up."

Turning to the Romulan officer, Paris sighed, shoulders sagging a bit. "What did I JUST say, Dox?"

Knitting her eyebrows and blushing a bit greener still, Mnhei'sahe pursed her lips slightly and replied with a half smile and an awkward chuckle she hoped would crack her own nerves. "Right. I'll be right behind you, Rita. This will be easier when we're not still in the conference room."

"And out of uniform, and off the ship. Alright, let's move with a purpose, ladies. We've got places to be!" As Paris moved to usher the assemblage out of the conference room, a large hand settled on her shoulder, that was, in fact, the size of the ancient astronaut's shoulder. Turning to follow the hand up the arm, the Starfleet siren took in the casually-dress Valyrie, Hildr.

"Me and lil' Ethel, we wish to go have some 'us' time. Would you mind if we catch up later?" Looking between the somewhat bashful appearing Jablonski, for whom this was definitely the first time she'd been called little in a very long time, and the mighty Valkyrie, Paris smiled benignly.

"By all means. Everyone is off duty, Miss Jablonski knows the rules of the ship, and we shall see you when you arrive. Just be sure to get there in time for Sharonne and her assistants to do your hair and makeup, and get you into a flattering dress if you don't already have one. Footwear is up to you, and because it's all of us? Be prepared, ladies." Clinking her own bronze bracers together at the wrist, Rita realized this was likely to be the field test of the Asgardian armour they had crafted for her as a bridesmaid's honor guard.

"Yes, whatever, go, all of you, out! Deck 10, Goddess salon, do what you need to do with your lives and we'll all reconvene there! L' accélération!"

Departing the conference room, scanning it over before sealing the doors, Rita Paris stepped out onto the bridge, and there he was.

Time slowed down in her perception, as it sometimes did with literary license and TV special effects, and she drank him in visually. The erect and balanced posture. The confidence in his movements, as he was so hyper-aware of all parts of his body at all times. The way the crisp blue tunic set off those steel grey eyes with that precise dark hair. Those sharply expressive brows that perched, moving and changing his expression from thought to thought as he communicated with an enlisted technician... about a scan, the reasoning behind it, and why it was significant that it be performed in sequence. All of this she realized just from walking this close to him, as his telepathy anchored them in the bond of t'hy'la. She was mildly curious, thus his mind obliged her to provide the answer.

I am preparing for a girl's night out of legend. Baroness' bachelorette party. Come with me to quarters for 5 minutes?" All of this she expressed as a feeling, a need for him, without having to mentally articulate her desire for his presence in their privacy. In point of fact, she never stopped walking.

He finished his recommendation to the crewman and within seconds was turning his expressionless face towards hers, standing beside her at the turbnolift entrance.

''I am all yours, Commander. ''

...as you know, now and forever his mind added for her alone.

You are far and away the most romantic Vulcan I've ever met, Mr. Sonak, she thought to him as they stepped into the turbolift. Even after all this time, Rita still spoke to the ship's computer as she would any member of the crew."Deck 8, officer country please."

"This is going to be an exhausting affair.... so many individuals of disproportionate power concentrated in one spot is just begging the universe for mischief before you add me and my talent for trouble to the mix," she managed as the turbolift took them to their destination. As the doors slid open, and Rita strode out onto Deck 8 with Sonak in step beside her, she continued speaking. "So today I need to manage the juxtaposition of being ready for anything the cosmos might throw at us, while remaining open to having a good time and insuring everyone enjoys themselves."

''A definite challenge to be certain, '' the Vulcan stated in typical Vulcan knack for stating the obvious.

"So, I'm supposed to bring along this Asgardian armor, which I've experimented with a bit, but am overall unfamiliar. Because that's what was requested, and these are powerful diplomatic allies," Rita continued as they strode into their quarters. Pivoting as the door close behind them, she faced him. "So... some centering and focus would be ideal. Besides, I'm going out for a night of drinking and adventure. While it may be the single ladies mourning the loss of 'bachelorettehood', I'm a very happily married gal."

Stepping into his personal space, her bright blue eyes sought out his steel-grey gaze, a hopeful smile in place.

He let her come close, appreciating the vivaciousness of his wife as the fascinating experience that it always was. But his mind stayed focused.

''How may I be of service?''

"Help me center, so in this storm of chaos I know I am walking into, I can be the calm eye of the storm. Usually that's you, but I can't bring you along on a bachelorette party, because... tradition, I guess? Somehow bringing my husband along on a girl's night out seems to be the ultimate in having lost touch. Anyway... center. Help me, please?" With that she came in, and gently pressed herself to him, her hands rising, tracing his flat and smooth uniformed chest to snake her fingers about his neck, seeking the base of his skull with her fingertips. Closing her eyes, she gently urged his head forward, so that their foreheads could touch.

As always, there was the deepening of sensation. When he was near now, as it had once been, she was aware of him, always. In recent memory she had not experimented thoroughly, but she felt as though she could feel him throughout most of the ship. Which was impressive given the Hera's size. When she came closer she became that much more aware, sensing the vastness of his mind as if it had its own gravity. When they touched, they were one- she knew the clear and precise workings of his structured and organized mind, and he knew her compassion, her excitement, her zest for life and exploring the unknown. Bringing his forehead to hers was not necessary for them to know one another's minds, but it was as physically close as their minds could manage.

Prepared. For literally anything with two gods and a demigod, along with the crew. And that enormous valkyrie. Going to have a fun night out. While this was her stated goal, anxieties burbled about her mind as she couldn't help but concoct scenarios of what could go wrong, which was in addition to her background anxiety at being transported by Bifrost, which in her mind invented a hundred new weird things that could go wrong with her and a transport system. Taking a shuddering intake of breath, she drew strength from his presence.

Calm. I need to be calm and I'm very much NOT calm. If I am off it'll make all of them uneasy and aside from ruining the party it will undermine them. I must be calm, and... I am SO not calm, she stated simply, organizing her thoughts to use her words and communicate logically with the Kolinahr.

You are Human. Your greatest asset is your compassion. Do not fight your nature, your emotions; channel them. Consider your problem and assign it to someone else; to me if you wish to. Now, if I was the one with the problem, how would you go about to help me?

Uuuuugh… I would tell you… the frustrated and anxious woman searched her mind for the answer. I would tell you that you cannot prepare for every eventuality. I’d tell you that improvisation is your strong suit. I’d tell you that anxiety serves no purpose and that you need to let it go. I would tell you to just be aware and that’s all you can do to be prepared for such a bizarre outing. All of which I understand intellectually, but isn’t helping me find my center.

And if you had to, and assuming that I would have emotions myself, how would you help me find my center, emotionally he insisted.

Growing more frustrated, she opened her eyes, pulled back and looked at him. "If I had that answer, why would I be asking for you for help? Am I irritating you? Am I wasting your time?" Anger was rising in her, as she found herself resentful over the seemingly pointless exercise. "If your answer is 'get pissed off and walk out and let that carry you through', then congratulations, you've accomplished it."


At that he just stared at her, in silence.


Searching his eyes, tears welled up in her own as she turned and walked away.

While the duties of a First Officer were myriad, one of the most important was supporting the officers beneath her, in whatever capacity that was required. Sometimes it was guidance, sometimes it was emotional support, sometimes it was just a shoulder to cry on. Long ago having accepted these duties, Commander Rita Paris shouldered those responsibilities without complaint.

In truth, she enjoyed keeping the starship running efficiently, and she cared a great deal about those whom she was mentoring as officers beneath her. The future of Starfleet were the junior officers of today, after all. To her there was no greater duty than to being a good role model, and insuring that the next generation would be confident, competent, responsible officers.

However, when it came to her own needs, she tended not to share them down the chain of command. Her own neurosis, insecurities, doubts and fears were not something the junior officers needed to know about. Those were to be shared and addressed privately, so as not to undermine morale. While she could approach Enalia about such things, the pirate queen turned starship captain was often at a loss as to how to address Rita’s emotional stability. Her own coping mechanisms left her ill-equipped to help Rita with such issues; thus Rita tended not to bring such issues to her commanding officer. Enalia always felt badly when she could not help, as she had the desire, just not the skills.

In her own quarters, there was Sonak, of course. The rock of stability upon whom she depended, who gave her the strength and confidence to do what she did and face what she faced. But of late he had been growing more and more distant, to the point where she was becoming concerned. Claiming that a Vulcan was emotionally distant seemed like a moronic statement, yet that was exactly how she felt. Once upon a time, he had seen her as an amazing and unique individual whom he would cross time and space to be beside. Yet more and more, when she came to him for emotional succor, he simply tried to direct her to solve her own problems, seemingly uninterested in her well-being.

While she had tried to adapt to it, more and more she was feeling lonely, cut off from the man with whom she shared minds. Hers was easy for him to read, after all, and she held no secrets from him. But his own mind was vast, beyond her ability to fully comprehend, forget about explore. So whatever he was feeling and thinking were something she was not able to ascertain if he did not willingly share it… which he seemed, of late, less and less willing.

Preparing to undertake an expedition that she anticipated would be fraught with danger and would stretch her ability to protect the crew quite thin, she had sought him out for some reassurance, some centering calm, possibly even a quickie. But he had been coldly aloof once more, asking her how she would advise another with her problem, turning her needs back upon themselves once more, and when she became angry about it, he simply shut her out.

Leaving their quarters, she had grabbed what she needed for the evening’s adventure, and departed without a word. Hurt, angry, even more anxious than when she started, she felt alone and rejected. She didn’t know what had changed, but it was clear that change had occurred. He no longer saw her as special nor unique; he no longer found her fascinating. When she came to him for succor and support, he was unwilling to offer it. Instead he pushed her to be self-sufficient, which was far from what she sought from him. In their marriage, she was beginning to feel as though they were drifting apart, and it broke her heart. Was she no longer interesting to him? Had logic won out and overcome his love for her? Was she too needy? Was she no longer attractive to him?

All of this swirled in her mind as she approached the VIP quarters of the Hera, on Deck 8, down the corridor from the senior staff. Despite her internal turmoil, she did not let it show on her face- or at least she tried. Professional detachment was a skill she’d learned very early in life, to give no hint of when she was hurt or upset. It had been cultivated as a defense against her abusive father and brother, that had served her well in command roles since. Now, as the honor guard on Hera’s quarters snapped to attention, she nodded and offered a casual “At ease” before entering the quarters.

There was work to be done, there were details to be tended, and dangers to be prepared for in the here and now. Thus she could not afford the luxury of her heartbreak. She was needed, she had a duty and an obligation, and she could not afford to be dwelling upon her own needs and problems. Others needed her more, so she would work to focus on that, instead of herself. One of whom was in the here and now.

“Hera? It’s Rita,” she called from the foyer, where she always paused to alert the goddess of women, family and motherhood who traveled on the starship that bore her name of her presence. Although she needn’t have bothered- the goddess, who had been transformed by Rita’s belief in her, was almost always aware of the time-tossed tempest, particularly when she came to visit. “The Baroness’ bachelorette party is tonight, and the Asgardians are here. They want you to come along, so do you have something to wear for a girl’s night out on Risa?”

Some interesting things had been streaming across the bond that Hera shared with Rita. First there was happiness for a friend with a touch of confusion, rushed planning and thoughtfulness towards her while an Asgardian presence was nearby. Then after a while, as she was getting ready for something she could only guess at but knew she needed to dress well for, she felt that her friend had become upset and needed her evermore.

Thus Hera paused in her preparations for merrymaking and went straight off to the kitchens for proper mothering. There she poured a glass of milk, and set a couple of the triple fudge brownies she had prepared earlier that day on a plate, bringing both to the small table she entertained guests at just in time for her door to open and Rita to declare herself.

"I'm in here, sweetie! Come here and let me give you a big hug, okay?" The matronly goddess ignored the invitation for now, as well as the fact that she was only mostly wearing a pale blue Greek dress as she went to pull Rita into a loving and motherly embrace.

“Uh, hi… hello,” Rita was taken aback a bit by the action, but of course still leaned into the hug. At which point tears pushed to the surface, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop them. Her breath hitching in her throat, she tried to compose herself, and failed.

Clinging to the maternal goddess, the misgivings of months found their way to the surface, and Rita Paris sobbed. The anxiety of what the evening held was a driving force, but her growing alienation from her husband was something for which she could never be prepared. Now, here in the moment, in the arms of the closest thing she had to a maternal figure, all of her fears and worries and hurt and sadness all gave way at once, and she clung to the goddess of woman as she wept.

The elderly goddess just made soft cooing sounds and held Rita tighter, softly stroking the back of her head. "There, there, dear. Let it all out. Let those tears out and don't bottle them up. I'm here for you. Mama Hera's got you now and there's not a thing in this universe gonna hurt my baby right now. I promise you that."

"That is weird and comforting in equal degrees," Rita sobbed out as she started mopping at her face, pulling back to snort back a considerable load of snot. She got it down to the occasional sob, then took a deep breath, straightening her posture to come to attention, then relaxed her stance to open her eyes once more. Smiling at the reformed tyrant of Meroset 347, Rita finished wiping her face. "Thank you... I needed that. It's not something I do a lot, but... thanks, Hera."

"After everything you've done for me? I will always be here for you. Now come here, sit down, have a brownie, and tell me what's got you so upset. I don't think anyone will mind if we're a few minutes late to the party." Quite insistently, Hera motioned Rita towards the small table, waiting for her to sit first before she'd sit as well.

"I, ah, need to change, too," Rita tossed the black leather jacket and minidress she'd brought on the table, and sat down. Picking up the brownie, she contemplated it. "Sometimes... sometimes the emotionless thing isn't a boon. Sometimes it means he fails to see any logic in the situation, so he devalues it. The significance to me is irrelevant, as it doesn't factor into the logic of the situation."

"Like when he beams me. It's like he's irritated with me for being averse to being beamed places, and he just forces it on me because it's the logical choice. My feelings are irrelevant to the equation for him. Then he gets even more irritated when once again, against all logic, something goes wrong with Rita and a transporter. Which isn't my fault, yet it frustrates him." Eyeing the brownie, Rita let it roll out.

"He was an endangered species when I met him, did you know that? His planet was gone, and his people were scattered and few. He asked me for my help, because he needed to learn to understand humans if he was to live amongst them. He was fascinating, he was alone, and he needed me." Looking up to meet Hera's eyes, Rita smiled, a sad, wan little smile. "He's not alone anymore. He doesn't have to live amongst the humans. His home is still there, right where it belongs. So he doesn't... need me... quite like he used to, I think."

"When he came for me," Rita leaned in, the torrent of words burbling out as she got in touch with how she was feeling. "When he came for me, he was... so much in love with me. We could only feel each other when we touched, but his love it was... huge and pure and amazing. He still thought I was the most amazing woman in whatever universe we happened to be in, and he honored, admired and respected me." Looking down, Rita shook her head a bit. "He used to make me feel so special, you know?"

"He still..." the emotional executive paced, her chin dimpling and her eyes filling up as she continued the confessional of her feelings. "I still think he's special... I mean, I don't ask much, I try not to, anyway. Just... just help put me back together, give me someplace safe to be vulnerable."

Looking up, the career Starfleet officer defended herself, although no one was impugning her. "I mean, this is a hard job, what I do. I don't complain, I shoulder my burden and I do my duty, and I keep the crew going. I just... I just need to be able to be just plain Rita, sometimes. Not the Commander, not saving the day or coming up with a plan or doing something insane. Sometimes I just need to be... well, human, and let it out, or just maybe hump. It's... I mean, he's my husband, that's all implied, right?"

Bringing the brownie to her lips, Rita took a small bite and chewed as she sniffled a bit, now feeling guilty for her pity party.

"Oh sweetie, I am so very sorry you have to go through this." While Rita had been baring her soul, Hera had reached over and taken her free hand in her own and held on, squeezing tenderly. "Men can be so vexing at times with their... Ugh... I wish I could wave my hand and make everything better. I really do."

"Unfortunately, all I can really do for you is offer you an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, fresh baked goods..." With a wink, Hera raised one fist before her and shook it in the air. "And tell you how women through the ages have vented this particular frustration."

"You raise your fist to the sky and shout curses at the moon." Hera had a wide grin on her face while she said it.

Squeezing Hera’s hand, Rita smiled back, a sad little smile. “That’s all I need, Hera. Not some magical solution, just… someone to listen, who cares, who gets it and can tell me I’m not crazy for wanting what I had once and don’t understand why I no longer have that.” Sighing, which turned into a chuckle, Rita’s expression changed to one of wry amusement. “Although I might try shaking my fist at the next moon we encounter and list my grievances.”

“In the meanwhile, I need to get dressed so that I can go herd a rather large and powerful clowder of cats on an evening with the God of Mischief onboard to insure that if it was going to be uneventful, it won’t be. Go be the life of the party, keep everyone moving, keep everyone safe, be prepared for literally anything. Plus they insisted I wear these,” Rita pulled back her sleeve to reveal the bracers of the bridesmaid’s armor with which she had been gifted for the wedding. “So as not to offend the Asgardians, all of which is another altogether unknown commodity.”

While she listed it off casually, it was clear that the stress of the evening yet to come had already worn on her, and the Starfleet siren was trying to brighten her mood artificially, which seldom worked for anyone for long. But as she had a duty and a responsibility to a dear friend, and she couldn’t let the Baroness down just because her personal life was in disarray.

Hera's eyes widened as she took in the detailing on the bracers on Rita's wrists. Reaching out, she traced a few of the detail lines on them. "Well, I'll be... I haven't seen these patterns since I was... Well, a lot closer to your age."

With a wide grin, the matronly goddess looked back up to her favorite daughter. "One piece of advice regarding tonight, if I may? As I sense Loki nearby and suspect they have some trickery afoot... I recommend you not worry about things for tonight. It's supposed to be a night of merrymaking and festivities, so it would be in poor taste to not join in the frivolities as well."

"And having feasted with Odin before, not enjoying the festivities... That is a grave offense to any Asgardian," With that, Hera stood and pulled the buxom bombshell to her feet with her. "So let us prepare for a night of frivolity and enjoyment with our closest of friends and allies and leave our worries in the streets, yes?"

“Yes… you’re right, of course,” Rita acquiesced, trying to shove aside her concerns, worries and heartache so that she could do what was needed of her, as she always did. Just put on a happy face, and smile, Rita, or you’ll get wrinkles, then no one will want you, she heard the voice of her father echo in her memory,. “May I use your bathroom to change? I need to do something with my hair, and the uniform doesn’t exactly say ‘I came to party’. So time for something a little different…”

"Not quite yet, young lady. You haven't finished your brownie. Relaxation is an important part of preparation, you know." Hera reached out and booped Rita's nose softly with a warm, motherly smile that said that no matter what happened, she'd be there for her. "You finish it, get rid of that 'I've got to be strong for others' look, properly relax, let me worry over my daughter tonight, and let someone else save the galaxy, okay? There's plenty of time for changing clothing."

“Um, you do realize the galaxy saving bit is pretty much my job, right?” Rita smiled, despite herself. While she had witnessed such phenomenon with friends who had close relationships with their mothers, she herself was unaccustomed to such treatment. Which did not make it unwelcome- in truth, she was grateful for the space to vent and give voice to her feelings, and get it off her chest. She was still in turmoil, but having someone ‘mother’ her, for lack of a better word, was actually oddly soothing in her moment of crisis. Taking a bite of the brownie immediately put her stomach in rebellion. When she was upset, her stomach tended to burble up with acid reflux, but she’d give it her best. Besides, drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t going to help her in the least.

“If you don’t mind playing confessional…” Rita said between bites, her voice low and quiet, “just between you and me… it was my idea to request transport via Bifrost to and from the party. Which doesn’t change the fact that I’m trying very hard not to be completely terrified of transporting that way. I mean, I get lost on REGULAR transporters, and they don’t cover that sort of range, and aren’t powered by magic. I don’t even want to imagine what this might do if something goes wrong, and on top of everything else, TRYING not to think about it is stressing me out. Y’know, because the universe really, REALLY enjoys me getting lost, it seems.”

"Don't you worry about the Bifrost. It uses the same technology as Yggdrasil, so I can tell you a few things about it." Now Hera was more in her element. She was quite familiar with the transport tech that the old races used, and could describe in detail how they worked. "In fact, I believe Starfleet is familiar with a similar technology. It creates a quantum tunnel that connects both points together in a sort of slipstream effect, pulling the people whole from one location to the other rather than breaking them down into particles, energy, and data."

With a soft smile, the matronly goddess continued, pulling the notepad and pen she had handy over to draw a brief diagram of literally a quantum slipstream filament. "By crossing the quantum barrier directly with direct oversight by a seer, and in this case the best seer ever born, we'll be able to literally fly there across the realms in seconds via a quantum filament. As for Heimdal himself, I've seen him pull people from other times, dimensions... even Death herself. So while I admit it may be scary, it's as safe as traveling via the grand vessel in which we reside in now. Plus, I will be with you. I won't let anything happen to you."

The explanation helped- while Rita was no scientist, and in truth most of the science that she came across tended to be over her head and education level, knowing that she wasn’t going to be disassembled into energy then reconstructed at her destination did reassure her somewhat. But what she found more reassuring, on a number of levels, were those simple words- ‘I won’t let anything happen to you’.

When she’d met Hera, she had been an angry bitter, snarling menace who was trying to commit suicide by Starfleet. She had raised an army and transformed a planet, manipulated the local births and by the time Rita had destroyed her psionic beacons and fought her way to Hera’s temple, the goddess had dismissed all but her generals, the archetypes of her children- a great minotaur, a living statue, an Amazon guard and a harpy. Having fought her way through the city, Rita had tried to reason with the Minotaur general, only to be forced to execute him. She had expected the troops to pour in then, but they had not. Hera had chosen to face her end surrounded only by her generals, the ‘children’ she prized above all others.

That plan had not worked, as Rita managed to outmaneuver the remaining generals, and Asa Dael had destroyed the psychic channeling device that was Hera’s throne, stunning her and rendering her powers almost void.

When Rita had taken Hera captive, the Goddess had tried to bait her with barbs, still trying to get someone to kill her so she could return once more to the afterlife from which she had been summoned, into a universe that seemingly no longer needed her. But she showed compassion for the young immortal Asa Dael, and saved their life. In doing so, she nearly destroyed herself, but Rita saved her life- twice. When in the tradition of her people Hera had offered the nubile navigator a boon, she had replied quite simply.

“Be better, Hera. Be a goddess that I can tell my kids about someday- a noble spacefarer who was not some snarling tyrant, but an immortal being who helped, who healed, who cared. Just be better, Hera,” was the time-tossed temptress’ request, and from that moment on, Hera had done just that.

When she had been turned over to the Asgardians for imprisonment awaiting trial, she had gone without complaint, as Rita had written to her to keep her spirits up, and tried to send her books and videos. When on the planet New Texas, in proximity to Log’yerm’s reality altering powers, Rita had accidentally summoned the maternal goddess, whom she then petitioned the Asgardians to let her remain on the starship that bore her name, in the hopes that being needed and in proximity to Rita herself might help the matron goddess reform.

Reform she did, becoming a valued passenger on the Starfleet vessel, and a confidante to Paris herself. As she had lost her own mother at an early age, the goddess of women and motherhood had filled a void in Rita’s life she had spent most of it ignoring, and in return, Rita supported the goddess’ efforts to reform, to help and heal, and both had benefited from the relationship. Time and again Hera had stepped between the starship and calamity, on occasion even saving Rita’s life.

Now, as they stood here, with the maternal figure reassuring her that she would not let anything happen to her, Rita Paris was filled with a sensation she had not known since she was a child- that feeling of having a mother watch over you and reassure you that she would not let anything happen to you. It was not a claim that could be justified per se, as no one could guarantee another’s safety. But just that simple extension of care was enormous to the emotional executive who was not on solid emotional ground at the moment.

While most of the hard science was over her head, the concepts were simple enough to grasp. In truth, a stargate did worry her less, somehow. But beyond that, just hearing a reassurance that was and yet was not a realistic one to make that was offered out of love was still touching to the heart. Smiling benignly, Rita patted Hera's hand. "Thanks. I mean... it's nice to hear that sometimes, I guess? I mean, I know this crew is good about not leaving behind any of their own, but... it's nice to be reassured, I think. I don't... get a lot of that. Huh."

Which was when the old fashioned officer sat upright and cocked her head at an angle.

"I forgot one invitation. Be right back," Rita jammed the rest of the brownie into her mouth, and ducked into the reclamator. There was the sound of running water, and 30 seconds later she emerged, clad in a black minidress which was actually a bit longer that her usual uniform, her explorer boots cuffed over to make high ankle boots, and a leather jacket studded with pins and buttons. The short blonde hair of the lost navigator was pulled up and back into a pompadour with a bit of conditioner from Hera's bath. A smudge of eyeliner above and below made her eyes pop, and she grinned mischievously.

"It's probably pretty rude not to invite Death. Are you ready to travel?"

While Rita was getting ready, Hera had finished as well, using a glamour for the few bits she needed and just going with the simple Olympian toga style clothing she had already started putting on. "I am, my daughter. Let us go personally invite one more and show everyone what a good time looks like."

Considering the moment, Rita paused, frowned, then turned back to Hera. "I appreciate that as the goddess OF women, that you've chosen me as one of your daughters. Although in a cosmic sense, I suppose we are your daughters, aren't we? It's very sweet of you, and... I'll admit, it's nice to have someone to talk to who I can't damage, and won't judge me… who gets it."

"But... you are a goddess, Hera. One of these greater beings of the universe, like the Asgardians, who can manipulate energy on a scale we mere mortals still don't comprehend. If you take to calling me your daughter, people are going to expect me to be a goddess... and we both know I am all too mortal." Taking Hera's hand, Rita's blue eyes sought out those of the matron goddess.

"It's probably not a good idea to call me that in public, I'm thinking. Especially around the Asgardians. Just plain old human Rita does not need any godling hazing. I love you for saying it, I do, but... maybe just in private?" Rita had tried her best to phrase it not to hurt, but that was beyond her control once the words were out. But they needed to be said. The Baroness might have ascended and Jablonski looked like she needed a PSI warning label, but Rita was determined to be just plain Rita. The Earthling girl who literally happened to have a few tricks up her sleeve, not one touched by the divine who was more than mortal. Searching the honey brown eyes of the Olympian, Rita waited to see how it would be received.

In those eyes was nothing but concern and love for the one that had saved the very soul behind them. After a moment, Hera nodded with that motherly smile of hers, acquiescing to Rita's request. "Yes, that seems wise... you are likely right, especially with Loki around. You have enough troubles as it is, without that piled on top as well."

The elderly woman leaned in conspiratorially and lowered her voice. "But between you and me... you're the best daughter in the polyverse. Especially saving an old fool of a woman like me more than once, and that means you'll get all the mothering I'm able to give you."

Wrapping the ancient who had seen centuries of life into her arms, Rita whispered back, "You saved yourself, Hera."

Wrestling out of the flight suit, which was lighter and less heavily reinforced, yet allowed the diminutive daredevil considerably greater mobility, complete with reinforced lightweight gloves that let the dextrous digited dame do much of what she did. That and her reflexes, which were surprisingly high, as was her hand-eye coordination all added up with a healthy lack of fear in the cockpit to the makings of a good test pilot.

As she popped her helmet off and shook out the mop of curls that dominated her head, O'Dell backed up to the docking port on the wall where the dorsal of her flight suit connected, unclasping itself at the waist and the ventral plate rising up on the shoulder hinges to allow the nimble lass to escape from the primaryhard point of the armor. Now came the process of shucking off the bodysuit, which was something she'd had plenty of practice with. Unlocking and shucking the gloves, Fiona tossed them over to land in her helmet on the deck.

Across from her, the two-meter Tellarite was still struggling- not with the armor, which she could get in and out of fine. It was the wrestling match with the reinforced bodysuit that tended to be her nemesis. Watching her struggle and pull at the thing as if it were a symbiote attempting to resist separation, seeing her frizzy blonde ponytail bobbing and twitching as she thrashed about, the little leprechaun smiled. Strong, yet gentle, a little comically clumsy, but always protective of her. The one person in the entire cosmos who not only got her, but appreciated her. As she snorted, the space swine pinched something and squealed slightly, and Fiona snickered a bit. So ye run off from the life of learnin the old ways of the farmers of old, to go to space, to settle down with the biggest pig ye've ivvir seen to raise a cow together. Now yuir off to a bridal shower fuir a Baroness. Yuir life's fookin weird, y'daffy girl.

Looking at the message that they had both received again on her PaDD while O’Dell was changing out of her EVA suit in the R&D Department locker room, Ensign Briaar Gavarus read it aloud. “You are hereby ordered to accompany the bridal shower of Baroness Schwein von Alcott… see attached file... Dress for a night of barhopping, heavy drinking and regrettable behavior. Ranks are checked at the door. Meet in the Goddess Salon, Deck 10 within the half hour. Cudder… oh, duh, Commander PARIS.”

“I don’t get it, Fee. I mean, this Baroness chick don’t know us. Why the hell would we get invited for this? And why do we have to wear these weird-ass Wonder Woman bracelets that the Chief told us to wear?” The portly porcine said while she switched out of her uniform to change for the party. “I’m kinda freaking out.”

On the narrow bench was two sets of metal bracers with reliefs of Olympian figures on them that the Tellarite Engineer had no idea about.

"Alreet, let's think aboot this. S'a bridal shower. Noow, back home, that was an excuse fuir the bride ta git sloshed wi' a bunch of their frinds and go pubhoppin. PARTICULARLY in another town, so's as not to ruin yuir reputation in one of your own pubs, a'course. Noow, assumin' that's still the case, the woman's bloody royalty. So she's probably got a stick up her arse and shies away at the sight of dirt and is as excitin' as a slow boiled haggis. Noow, if ye had a dignitary like that, which I assume that's what she is, aye? If ye need to show sooch a personage a good time, who do ye call? Commander Lookitmearse or Cap'n Broody? Because ye joost KNOW those girls, woo, aye, ye know they joost bring the party. Whoop, holler." By the time she had the diatribe delivered, Fiona had it down to a monotone to illustrate the lack of excitement.

"Sooo, ye want some fun at the bacherlorette, ye call the professional drunks! The pub crawlers who know their way from one pub to the next by instinct. The ones who dinna mind playin the fool, and dinna mind sayin what comes ta mind when they've had a pint or two. See? Tis all there in the orders- 'rank checked at the door', S'what she's sayin, we're free to be proper obnoxious!" As she explained it to Gavarus, O'Dell was actually getting excited to be ordered to go for a night in the pub.

"I dunno, Fee." Briaar said as she almost fell over trying to pull her disproportionately small hooves out of the pantlegs of her bodysuit. "Gyaa! Shit! Shit! I got it. I'm good."

Righting herself on the wall of lockers, the two-meter tall Tellarite woman knitted her eyebrows as she tossed the suit in the reclimator, standing there in her hearts and flowers matching underwear. "Part of me just thinks some of those command officers just want to bring the sideshow so they have something to point and laugh at. But... but you're probably rig... you're usually right. And Granny MurderPunch said she'd watch Minnie tonight. So... I guess?"

"Tis our duty, Gavarus me old chum!" Fiona grinned as she made the request from the replicator, then produced a neat pile of clothes with black shoes parked atop them. "T'was orders, doncha know. Besides, we'll be the only ones there wearin comfortable shoes, I'll wager..."

"Ooh, sweet. Our weird, fake holusuite Risa outfits. If we're being ordered to party, at least we'll look frickin' badass." Briaar said with an awkward side grin as she tried to work up her courage, which immediately made her think of her favorite form of courage. "So, you think this salon'll have some frickin' drinks? 'Cuz I need a frickin' liquid appetizer to do this."

"Tis a girly thing. Aye, they'll drink shite wi' too much sugar early on so's they get their energy oop, then be all manic by the time they git where they're goin and star slidin' facefirst into 'I'll hold yuir hair fuir ye' wi'in the first hour anna half o'gettin to the first pub. Stick wi' what works fuir us- whativver this spot they've got, it has a replicator. We're on orders and off duty, so aye, I plan to get legendarily drunk," Fiona explained as she slipped into then belted her black slacks.

"So what, like a quarter of a Guinness?" Briaar asked as she pulled on the 'wifebeater' undershirt.

"Shoot the moon, Ah might joost down a half!" O'Dell chirped. Pulling on the crisp white cotton shirt, she realized she'd made tuxedo cuffs for their shirts, and shrugged. Stepping back to the replicator, she typed in the request, reviewed the options and replicated two pairs of cufflinks. Working one pair into her own sleeves, she stepped over to Gavarus.

"Here, I made the cuffs for cufflinks, so... joost hand me your sleeve, aye, I'll get 'em in fuir ye." As she worked at getting the cufflinks in, Briaar could see the ones Fiona was wearing. On one cuff she had a cartoon of a muppet pig, while in the other was a four leaf clover. The matching set, she was finishing installing in the cuffs of the suited swine.

"Okay, those are frickin' cute." Briaar said, starting to lock in to Fiona's positive energy and display a little of it herself. "So, we get there. Get started and we show these lightweight bitches how it's frickin' done. AND we try to not actually call them 'lightweight bitches' at least until they're lit up too. Cuz, seriously, I trust that 'no ranks' shit as much as I could fit into one of Lady Juggsalots miniskirt uniforms."

"Well, ye'd fit in one, it'd joost be showin a lot more skin than she does in it," O'Dell muttered as she affixed the cufflink for her porky partner. "So we've got that order in writing, Gavarus. So they try any shite with us after the fact to say we were malingerin' or insubordinate or mean, we've got an excuse at our court-martial, and I'd carry that one all the way to Starfleet Command. So dinna ye worry none- we get to be us, do as we like, liven up the party and be the professionals among the crew of tightasses who are pickin up our bar tab!" Hopping up to stand on the bench, Fiona produced the tie for the outfit, whipped it about the thick neck of the tall Tellarite, and began to expertly tie it for Gavarus, who had no idea how such a fashion accessory worked.

"Well, yeah. But I meant literally one of her uniforms. Heh. That would be a picture and a half." Making a light horking sound as Fiona tightened the tie, then loosened it ever so slightly for comfort, Briaar smiled down at her pint-sized partner who looked positively perfect to her in her smart, black suit. "Thanks. I can't tie that noose to save my life. Which, ya' know, engineer. I should be a bit better at following the directions, but frickin' whatever."

Then, pulling on the jet-black jacket, the portly porcine smirked as she struck a dramatic pose, hands on her hip, her doughy chin stuck out in an exaggerated, hyper-serious pout. "What'cha think? Are we gonna be stylin' and profilin' wherever this shindig is gonna go down, or what?"

Grabbing her own jacket to slide it on, Fiona slipped on her black sunglasses and leaned against her best buddy. "Aye. We'll be stylin and profilin, and the envy of every gal in the joint. Besides, who else has a whole lotta lovin like this, aye?" Patting the round tummy of her portly partner, O'Dell smiled fondly.

Smirking down at Fiona, Briaar slipped on her own sunglasses and grabbed her miniature mate by the shoulder and tugged her in a little tighter. "You know that's right. Let's DO this shit!"

"Ya' know..." the still anxious engineer tilted her head and chuckled, "Before I come to my frickin' senses and hurl all over myself. heh."

The cosmic cosmetologist's spacegoing salon was not to be seen today. Instead, it had been transformed to resemble one of the great halls of the Artan fortress... with the addition of some modern beautician tools of the trade, and a number of very comfortable recliners with heat and massage stimulation. Looking around, shaking her head and checking the time again, the bisected beautician was nervous. This was a big gig- a LOT of ladies, all at once. And she had to go full service. Maica had offered to pitch in, but beyond that, she was kind of on her own. Plus the bridal party was supposed to be like eight women, which was going to be tough, but they'd make it work. Because the bridal party consisted of the Captain AND the Commander.

Twice the pressure, twice the stress.

"You can do this. Totally! You're going to knock 'em dead. This'll be easy. Maica's got your back. Piece of cake, right?"

"I was told there would be mimosas, but I wouldn't object to a bite or two of cake..." drawled the slow languorous voice as the black and white babe turned to see a stunning vision of a woman dressed in shining and elegant emerald scale mail, with a gracefully horned helmet.

"Abuh..." Sharonne Washington managed to express, genuinely awestruck by the vision of godly beauty before her as she felt her Kinsey scale swing a bit more bisexual. "Hi... I mean, hi, hello! Yes! You're, uh, you're with the um, the um, the..." snapping her fingers, the Charon-appearing human scrambled to recall the important thing she was doing.

"Bachelorette party?" Loki asked breathily.

"THAT! Yes! Bachelorette, you're.. wow, you're... ah, you're the, ah, the bride, the Baroness?" Holding up her hands, one black, one white, the Hera's hairdresser waved off the thought. "No no, she has silver hair, I got the memo. But you're... you're... just incredible..."

"I really am," Loki admitted. A mimosa appeared in her outstretched hand as she strolled into the salon. "Well, what's first?"

Snapping out of her reverie of watching Loki walk away, Sharonne Washington called out. "Mani/pedi first, then dresses then hair!"

The door slid open again as the ship's engineer stepped through the doors. She was wearing her favorite purple dress that never seemed to fail to turn heads. The violet and lilac colors still accented her cerulean skin tone wonderfully, being daring while still presented with some modicum of modesty. Looking around the room the sapphire was impressed on what had been done to the place. "Hello, where do you want me?"

"Hi! Thex, right. Just go have a seat over there where, uh, whoever that is mounting that chair like a throne is sitting down, and Maica will be right with you, okay?" Sharonne waved down the row of pedicure recliners, directing Thex to go get to know Lady Loki.

Meanwhile, Dr. Mah was off duty after her first week on the Hera. She was ready to find 10 Forward as she was walking along reading her PaDD. She was looking forward to a meal with her new crew, while of course exploring for spots to read on her journey, then returning to her quarters for a night of reading. She couldn't help but hear a great deal of conversation as she approached what she assumed was the lounge, and figured it must be an active time for the crew to be there.

Without really looking, she walked into the door of what she thought was her destination, only to look up seeing the halls of an Artan fortress with beautician tools. She cocked her head to the side confused, took two steps back, looking at the entrance for the 10 Forward sign, as she tried to understand what the hell she just walked into.

"Hi!" Exclaimed a young woman with ash blonde hair, and skin that was chalk white of the left side of her body, perfectly and evenly divided into ebon black on the right side of her body. Turning from the replicator, she had a tray of mimosas and handed one to the new ship's surgeon. "Just go one down the line there, pick a chair, and Maica will be right with you, okay? Welcome to the party!"

Dr. Mah took the drink and looked confused for a moment, "Umm, is this 10 Forward? I think I may have stumbled into a private party." She tried to follow the server through the crowd. "Excuse me?"

"Oh!" the hostess turned back to face the physician apologetically. "Uh, this is the bachelorette party? Commander Paris told me to take care of anyone who showed up, because she didn't have an exact headcount. If you wanted 10-Forward it's about five doors down. But you're welcome to stay- she said anyone."

"Yes, take a seat. Relax." Said the long-legged bombshell of a Goddess sitting in the furthest seat, as she took a sip of her mimosa. "The night is young and the frivolity just beginning."

Then, the Goddess leaned over slightly towards the seat Thex had just sat down in. "Forgive my assertion, but would I be correct in assuming that you are this mighty vessel's engineer? Thex... sh'Zoarhi? My soon-to-be Sister, Schwein, has spoken of your... skill with dance."

"Yes, that's me." Thex said trying to place the goddess in front of her. "Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Ahh yes, how remiss of me. I am the Lady Loki, scion of both Asgard and Jotunheim. Here today to meet the kith and kin of she who is betrothed to my brother, Thor Odinson." Loki said in a regal and exaggeratedly haughty manner. "And though I am a goddess, this evening we are here to serve Schwein as compatriots and equals. As your Rita Paris has decreed, tonight there are no ranks or titles, so 'Loki' will do."

"Do I see the air of divinity attached to your essence? Elysian energies surround you like a second skin." Loki commented, taking another sip of her Mimosa.

"I've been repairing Elysian artifacts. The armor of Achilles has bonded to me," Thex responded, smiling slightly at the thought that the armour had saved her from the one that Loki had swapped.

"Then you should consider yourself quite fortunate. For a mortal to be chosen by so mighty a force is a great honor and a powerful responsibility." Loki said, with just a hint of seriousness to her voice, just as Mnhei'sahe Dox stepped into the salon's doors nervously. 

The young Romulan woman was fidgeting with the shiny black Asgardian bracers with the sculpted reliefs of the great firebird, Al'thindor on them that she had been gifted that fit perfectly and yet felt uncomfortable on her as she looked around. In spite of needing to go to her quarters to get them, she still arrived earlier than she expected, with most of the seats still empty. Instead of her uniform top, she had changed into a more relaxed, civilian black exercise top to help her relax slightly, though her Starfleet badge was still emblazoned upon her chest. 

With Dox standing awkwardly in the entrance, the mercurial goddess glanced over past Thex and grinned knowingly. "And it appears our retinue expands further. A friend of yours, Miss. sh'Zoarhi?"

"Indeed she is. This is Mnhei'sahe Dox, our chief flight control officer," Thex said to the goddess.

"My thanks." Loki nodded to Thex as she gestured to the open seat between the Hera's Chief Engineer and Chief Medical Officer. Looking over Dox gave a nod and walked over. As she did, the Asgardian trickster smiled a seemingly knowing grin, which was an unsettling affair every time. "I saw you in the briefing, but had not the opportunity for a proper introduction, Miss Dox. I am Loki of Asgard, and it is a pleasure. A pleasure to meet you all, in point of fact."

The goddess lifted her glass in a somewhat forced toast as Dox nodded and replied, taking her seat. "Indeed and thank you. You honor me." Mnhei'sahe replied politely as she sat, fidgeting slightly in place like a child that didn't feel comfortable at the big table. Turning towards the Hera's chief engineer, the nervous Romulan smirked lightly and chuckled as Loki looked on, "I had all this done for my wedding Thex, but still don't think I quite know how to be... pampered."

"Just take a seat and let Sharonne work her magic. She'll take care of you Dox." Thex said as she leaned back in the chair. "Loki, may I ask what Schwein has said about my dancing?" The Andorian inquired.

"Naught but the highest of praise for your skills. Apparently your warrior's training informs your dancing, making it quite a sight to see. Acrobatic and... lithe... I believe were descriptors used." Loki replied rather directly and positively. "As such, I would be lying if I said that I was not hoping that our evening's plans didn't lead us to scenarios that will allow you to display your abilities. I am quite curious to see for myself."

The Andorian didn't exactly know how to feel at that reply. Being told that her dancing abilities were known about by the Norse pantheon, one of whom who had just mentioned that they'd like to see her dance was a strange mixture of pride, accomplishment, confusion, and fear. Still, it's not like she would mind doing some dancing.

"Well, we'll see where the winds of fate take us. It is Schwein's night after all," the Andorian replied.

On the other side of the Engineer, Mnhei'sahe turned slightly to the woman in teal to her other side, immediately realizing that it was the ship's new Chief Medical Officer, Tovanna Mah. In truth, the red-headed Romulan woman had been avoiding going to sickbay in spite of being overdue for a check-up since the new doctor signed on. The ship's previous CMO, Asa Dael, was also an El-Aurian and Mnhei'sahe's best friend and the Romulan officer was feeling more than a little territorial. However, the black-clad Lieutenant Commander realized she was being both rude and immature and so smiled towards the new surgeon. 

"Good evening. I haven't yet... had the chance to stop by sickbay. I'm Dox. Mnhei'sahe Dox." She said, pushing past any stiffness and hoping Sharonne would come over with the Mimosa's before too long.

Tovanna's eyes darted back to Dox as she was downing her mimosa while taking in the scene before her and smiled, "A pleasure Lt. Commander Dox, my apologies for my manners. I was expecting to find myself on 10 Forward and have stumbled into a party it seems. I was given a mimosa; however, it seems I finished it without noticing in all the commotion."

Smiling slightly, it appeared that the new doctor might have been feeling more out of place than Mnhei'sahe herself, which made the young Romulan feel a bit more embarrassed about her behavior in avoiding the new Chief Surgeon. So as Sharrone passed by with a fresh tray of drinks, the anxious young pilot grabbed two mimosas and handed one to Tovanna. "Well, no pressure. And no apologies needed. Enjoy."

As they spoke, a couple of copies of the Captain's wife, Maica went down the line with fresh mimosas for everyone as well as a couple more starting on the manicure jobs. It was obvious she was splitting her attention at her limit because the small talk was very basic and her focus was on the work, but she was doing her very best.

As for Enalia, she finally got there, entering in her own red and white gown that looked like it had been taken from a fashion catalog for the rich and famous. The white was pure Tholian silk and the red was ruby fibers interwoven into the silk. On her left wrist was a platinum bracer designed in the Asgardian style with the Artan crest emblazoned on it - rubies had been inlaid into it for the rose. On her right wrist was a clone of it, but in place of the Artan crest, it had the UFP crest with a field of shimmering blue and diamonds for each of the founding worlds' stars. Her hair had been let down so that Sharone could work her magic on it. As for her feet... For some reason, she was completely barefoot.

As Enalia sat down, she did so regally, choosing to sit at one end of the row of chairs, accepting a mimosa as it was offered with a polite smile.

The Baroness and Asgardian infused Schwein von Alcott entered with Enalia, rocking something that could only be described as 'elegantly piratical'. She was in a blue woven sapphire thread dress with mock golden pauldrons cascading down her shoulders that were slightly reminiscent of her old baroness jacket. She had a gold leather belt jauntily slung across her hips with what appeared to be a large gold spider skull for a purse slung low on one side. As for her bracers, they were bright gold and detailed in the theme of Huginn and Muninn. Her eyepatch had been swapped out for one which she had gotten as a gift from Odin himself. Her footwear was a bit more practical - she wore open-toed sandals similar to those that Hildr had worn earlier, but in a gold, pleated leather.

Grinning brightly, she sat down next to Enalia before accepting a mimosa for herself.

"Okay ladies, Maica is working the mani/pedis for me, and thanks again so much, Maica," the binary beautician beamed. "So I'm gonna get started on your hair. So, who wants what? You want some updos, you want some big curls, you want Cardassian hair, you want a sixties 'do from Earth history? Any ideas?"

Squinching her brow slightly, Dox was at a complete loss and now on her second Mimosa. She had visited Sharrone a few times since joining the ship, most recently for her wedding. But for that, Mona had picked out her hairstyle and the young Romulan wished her wife had been there the help again. "Uh... My hair's... Uh ... a bit short. I don't really know what might look... uh ... good."

"If you don't mind me saying," Tovanna leaned over to Dox, "you would look amazing in vintage glamour pincurls with your hair. It's a classic look that would complement your face shape and the length of your hair, just a thought," she shrugged. "I should let you all get back to your party, I am woefully underdressed for this affair." She looked around at all the beautifully dressed women and her simple uniform feeling quite out of place. She stood and curtsied deeply to the obvious royalty despite having no real clue who they were and then less deeply to the others showing her understanding of the ancient royal decorum.

"Uh... Thank... You?" Dox replied, somewhat confused and embarrassed at the positivity and friendliness of the woman she was thoroughly prepared to dislike for the sin of not being Asa Dael. But thanks to the Mimosas being just strong enough to take a bit of the edge off, the red-headed Romulan simply smiled at her departing Doctor and then turned to Sharrone with slightly wide eyes and a warming smile. "Do you think that would look good? I may have to just defer to expertise here."

Thex was wondering about what she should do her hair up as. " I'm not sure, any ideas Sharrone? Any that won't hurt too bad if pulled by small blue fingers?"

As the bisected beautician began winding up for her 'I know you have no idea what to do with your hair, so I'll just make it look amazing' speech that she had to give all too often at these sort of affairs, Commander Paris strode in, wearing a tight black stretchy minidress, her usual uniform Explorer boots with the thick gripping soles, a leather jacket that mostly hid the Asgardian bracers on her wrists, with her hair teased and combed in a rather aggressive pompadour. Beside her was Hera, who had opted for a blue A-line dress that was attractive yet conservative, while her hair was up in ringlets, crowned by a small tiara. Smiling at the physician, the first officer caught her attention. "Doctor Mah! Will you be joining us for this particular landing party? We'd love to have you along."

"Yup, I will be right back, just going to get changed so I can join in properly. I shouldn't be very long at all." Tovanna went zipping out of the door with a twinkle in her eye.

"Wonderful. Where's a cocktail? I need to start pre-gaming..." Rita asked as Sharonne handed her and Hera both mimosas. "Ah, thank you, perfect. All right ladies, how go the preparations? Everyone getting excited?"

From a couple of seats down, Dox was laying back as Sharonne was preparing to start on her hair and Maica was working on her manicure. As the Captain's holographic wife worked on the redheaded Romulan's left hand, Dox was scrolling through at projection of the ship's fashion catalog for possible outfits for the night ahead. As she did, she stopped on a dark green wraparound dress that was paired with a long sleeve black jacket with green trim, short buckled boots, and black leggings.

"I'm... actually getting there for a change. I mean, I'm still me, so I'm busy working to smother the part of me that's unduly nervous over having to try and be social and not shut down." Dox said, grinning lightly at her Commander and friend, "Mimosa's help."

Internally, Dox noticed that Rita, who rarely ever drank, was starting the night off with a drink which seemed unusual. It was out of the ordinary for her and she put it in the back of her head, not wanting to disrupt the otherwise positive mood by saying anything about it. Instead, looking down, Dox cricked an eyebrow at the color Maica was currently painting her nails for the evening. "Pardon me, Maica. What do you think of this dress with what you're doing? Will they go together?"

The Maica clones were stretched a bit thin as they tried to chat casually while working. One of them started out with "No, no..." while finishing up a pedicure and looking through colors for a pedicure. The one with Mnhei'sahe nodded reassuringly and chimed in with a smile. "It'll come out the right color with your complexion."

Hera finished off her mimosa and set aside her glass with a flourish. "My darling... Sharonne, was it? If you'd like to save time, my hair and nails are fine as they are. Though I haven't had a proper pedicure in... Well, almost a millennia... So instead, please focus the efforts you'd have placed on me on my dearest Rita?" With a warm smile and a pat on the buxom bombshell's hand, she gave a bit of a conspiratorial wink.

“Go, go, get a pedicure, Hera, we’ve got time. I’m already ready to go, hair and nails are done, and all I have to do is keep the party on track. So take a minute for yourself, hm?” Rita tossed back the remaining contents of the champagne flute and grabbed another, moving to mingle amongst the assembled ladies preparing for their night out on the town. Sharonne was working with gel and her fingers, expertly crafting pin curls in Dox’s hair that would leave her with a classic updo that would be stylish and functional for the curly-haired Romulan. Meanwhile, the legion of Maicas were busily pampering the rest of the ladies. While she was nowhere near as chatty as usual, Rita for one marveled at the fact that Maica could split her attention so efficiently.

“Anyone seen the rest of the girls? I know we’re missing a few other than just Hildr and Ethel?" Paris observed as she took a headcount, which was precisely when Gavarus and O’Dell strolled in, wearing black men’s suits with skinny ties and dark sunglasses. O’Dell’s hair was down and free, as she preferred to wear it, while Gavarus’ usual frizzy bun had been woven into an elegant series of interlocking braids that lent the titanic Tellarite a distinguished air.

“Ah, Ensign? Did you not get the memo that it’s a girl’s night out…?” Paris asked, at which point O’Dell adjusted her cuffs, straightening her Miss Piggy cufflink even as Gavarus looked suddenly anxious and uncomfortable.

“Aye, that ye did. We’re ladies and this is how we like to dress when we take a night oot. I’ll not have ye gender-shamin us over our fashion choices mum. Particularly since ye said ranks were checked at the door, and the door,” the midget Mariposian pointed over her shoulder, “Was back there. Or was that more of a suggestion than an order, Commander?”

Stopping short, the time-tossed temptress considered that for a few seconds, then downed half of her drink in a gulp. “So I did, Miss O’Dell, so I did. My apologies- you are quite correct. Dress as you like and please enjoy yourselves, and I’ll try to forget I’m your commander for a night.”

"Oh, shit! Hey Fee, you were right. Sugary, fizzy drinks. Where's the replicator?" Gavarus said looking first at the Mimosa's then around at the room until she spotted a replicator against the far wall. "There we go! Time to get this shit started right. Be right back."

Watching as the portly porcine hoofed over to the replicator to order up two beers, Loki's grin widened as she took a sip of her mimosa and chuckled audibly enough to be heard, "Ah, I am so looking forward to this evening. Truly, we shall have a night that the gods will sing of."

"Ja, and sing they will," Schwein declared as she pulled a flask out of her purse and spiked her own mimosa with some sort of clear booze before downing the entire thing and taking a swig from the flask itself. "You are the parents of the minotaur babe, ja? It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Schwein von Alcott. Enalia has spoken highly of you and your daughter."

Looking around for a second while she swigged her beer, Gavarus looked down at O'Dell for a second as she processed that they were being talked too. "Uh... yeah. I'm Briaar. Briaar Gavarus. This here's Fiona O'Dell. And yeah, we're Minnie's folks. Wait, who's talkin' about us?"

"I mentioned you a few times," replied the spotted woman with the piratical grin plastered across her face. "You know... Enalia... Telvan? Apparently you two have become minor celebrities in Asgard for taking in a daughter of Zeus."

Spitting up slightly as she choked back into her beer bottle, Gavarus' eyes went wide as she realized that the Captain, whom she had hardly ever even seen in her time on the Hera and never out of uniform, had been sitting right there and was the one that had been talking about her and O'Dell. Glancing down as she tried to contain the beer dripping out of the foamy bottle, the twitchy Tellarite looked at O'Dell, trying not to freak out.

"Fook did I joost remind Thunderjugs over there? Rank's checked at the door. Aye, tis the captain, and she's gettin' some pamperin afore we go oot ta party. Scary as fook, aye? So relax, drink yuir beer and dinna piss yuirself, those slacks are dry clean only." Stepping over to the one-eyed cyber pirate, the little lass tilted her head quizzically as she stuck out her small pale hand in greeting. "I'm Fiona O'Dell. M'a test pilot, they call me Leprechaun. So yuir what, some sorta space pirate then, Schwein?"

"Ja, a Baroness of space pira... Ahem..." With a bit of a look from Enalia that even the one eyed cyber pirate couldn't miss, Schwein reworded what she was saying. "Privateers. I am also one of Enalia's first crew when she was a young dame making her name."

"Ohhhh, I bet ye got some stories ta tell, girlie! We're g'win ta gossip, ye and me..." O'Dell grinned mischievously at the cosmic corsair turned demigoddess through marriage.

Wearing a blush pink, long, modest dress with her hair up in classic victory curls, Tovanna returned. In her hands she held a huge bundle of exotic paper flowers with a bright beaming smile on her face. She happily stepped up to Dox and presented her with the bouquet, "I understand you are the beautiful bride to be. Please accept these as a gift for you and everyone you choose to share them with them to enjoy." When she turned around her dress was completely backless revealing a beautiful tattoo covering her back from tailbone to her neck as she gathered another mimosa.

Looking awkwardly at the paper flowers, Dox blushed a light shade of green as she nervously tugged at the top of an ear. "Uh... Actually... I'm... Uh... I'm already... uh... I'm A Baroness, but THE Baroness getting married is Schwein. Uh... thank you, though."

Sticking the flowers out to the side towards the silver-haired pirate, Dox took a rather large swig of her latest Mimosa, killing it off quickly. "Uh... Schwein Von Alcott, this is our new Doctor, Tovanna Mah."

"It is a pleasure and an honor. I thank you," Schwein said with a flourish and a curtsy, accepting the flowers with a grace that belied her enhanced strength. Her germanic accent had faded a bit from her time with the Asgardians, but now it was in full bloom as she was speaking formally. "From Enalia's first doctor to her newest, welcome aboard- and do not let her get away with anything, ja? She tends to avoid even me when she needs treatment since the incident on..."

"No, that's not fair..." Enalia protested, one finger wagging in the air. "That's private medical information."

"That you got so drunk that you challenged a bar full of Nausicaans to a fight?" Her grin widening, the one-eyed pirate couldn't help but spoil the story. "We almost won."

"Almost tends to be bad with Nausicaans, as I understand it," Rita Paris watched her reflection as she sprayed a light cloud of hairspray on her pompadour to give it extra hold. "So what happened?"

Schwein's grin grew ever wider as she pantomimed Enalia's sword style. "She took down the first dozen herself, ja? The three of us with her were holding our own against the rest of the bar, when the boss comes out. Mountain of a Naussican named something that translates into 'rips people in half for fun'. He walks up to Enalia, easily twice the height of her fifteen-year-old ass, and they stare at each other."

As the story went on, you could hear Enalia groaning, but Schwein kept at it. "So the princess... She grabs a beer, tosses it at him, and flips him off. Next thing I'm doing is removing the bar door from her backside from when he kicked her through it while Sarika is hijacking a taxi."

"So yuir sayin' she was doin' great in the fight, but then she got the boot? She got it in the end? Her plan splintered? Ach, I'm too sober to be funny yet," O'Dell grumbled, then headed for the replicator with Gavarus following behind her grinning aggressively so as to cover up her momentary embarrassment at not recognizing the ship's Captain.

Meanwhile, Dox set her empty glass down and stepped into the dressing room in the rear to try on the outfit she had picked out and had ordered to be replicated on the holographic catalog. "Be right back."

Blushing at her error, Tovanna took a seat. She smiled at the bride to be once she was done with her story, "My apologies for the error. Baroness Von Alcott, I hope you enjoy the lollipops. They are in a variety of flavors, and not half as deadly as ripping people in half. I will also try to keep everyone in one piece while under my care, though dissection was one of the more enjoyable parts of my medical education." She held her glass up in a kind salute watching and learning about the new dynamic she found herself among as she sipped her drink.

"Well that's bloody awkward," O'Dell chimed in, the wee gal stepping over to hand the doctor a beer. "Think I'll pass on the dissection order, if tis all the same to ye. So ye'd be the new ship's doctor then?" All of four foot nine, the curly-maned Irish stereotype eyed the physician as she took a small sip of her beer.

Tovanna giggled, "My apologies for the gallows humor. Anatomy and physiology is actually a useful knowledge if you like to cook or fight. If you understand how something is put together, you also understand how to take it apart. To put it politely. And yes, I am the new doctor." She kept sipping her drink with her typical gentle smile.

"Yay. Someone new to tell me to lose weight." Gavarus muttered under her breath, covering her wide and toothy mouth with her beer.

"See, nae reassurin a'tall. Alreet, spooky new doctor, I'm Fiona O'Dell, that's me partner Briaar Gavarus- yon great space swine two-fistin beers over there. Long as ye kin hold yuir liquor and ye've a hypo in that clutch a'yers we'll do joost fine. How long does the prettyfyin' part of the evenin take, innyways? How long til the groomin's done and the drinkin's begun?" O'Dell took another sip of her beer, nursing it while still getting drunk.

"About half an hour, pipsqueak, so calm down and pace yourself. Maybe get some food in yourselves before we get out there... some finger sandwiches ought to do it," Paris muttered as she headed for the replicator, staying one step ahead of the bridal party, as was her duty for this night out.

"OOH! Sammies! Frickin' sweet! Good thinkin', Commm... uh... YOU." Gavarus said, clicking her tongue while pointing at Rita and wagging her thick finger towards the leather-clad commander. "Oooh, that's what you look like. What'sherface from the end of that holovid. With all the singing where it was a bunch of thirtysomethings playing teenagers and she was all prissy and shit until the end where she shows up all in leather and then their car starts flyin'! Shit!"

"C'Mon! Someone help me out here." The portly porcine said as Dox came back into the main salon from the back room, tugging on the sleeves of the matte black bolero jacket she had on over the dark green wrap dress she had picked out. 

"NO Idea, Gavarus. My knowledge of Earth culture begins and ends with heavy metal music." The red-headed Romulan said as she stood awkwardly showing off her outfit with an awkward gin. The black jacket had thin green stitching along the edges that covered the green dress. The dress wrapped completely around her as the material tapered to a belt that fixed over her hip with a small gold buckle that fastened the dress around her cinched middle in the shape of a bird. Black leggings lead down to short, black boots with folded-over flaps and side-buckles that matched the belt. "Does this look okay?"

From her seat, Loki looked Dox up and down and tilted her head with that same unnerving grin, "Oh, those are absolutely your colors, Miss Dox. Black is undoubtedly a perfect fit for you."

"Har har," Rita japed at Loki, calling her out on it. The Asgardian god eyed her, and Rita Paris eyed her right back. Both played a silent game of 'I know what you know' for five seconds, then Rita broke it off, re-engaging the party. But in the staring contest, she'd blinked. "You look great, Dox- perfect choice."

Tovanna giggled at Gavarus trying to run old holovids through her head matching the one described, but pulling a blank. She gave up and instead focused on Dox, "You look lovely."

Blushing slightly at the compliments, Dox replied with an awkward grin, "Thank you."

Double-checking her onhand medical supplies as suggested by Fiona, seeing the consumption rate of alcohol by some of the guests Tovanna looked for a replicator to switch to something without any added boost so she could be alert in case her professional services were needed. Though her pragmatic way of looking at life could throw people in the way of humor she was after all... pragmatic. There would be no rush to the sickbay to take away from someone's special event if she had any say in the matter. She gathered a sparkling orange juice, rejoined the group and took a seat to do what all El-Aurians do best...listen.

The Artan pirates looked at one another, shrugged and waited for this particular answer to be provided. Which, in short order, it was.

“Sandra Dee, played by Olivia Newton John in the Earth classic musical ‘Grease’, and not that far off, Gavarus,” Paris offered as she returned to hand out sandwiches from a platter she’d replicated. “Stay to the right for vegetarian, the left is for the carnivores. But I think you’ll enjoy the pimento sandwiches- take a few, they're small and you drink a lot. And for the record,” Paris paused in front of Gavarus, with an easygoing smirk on her face that might look at home on the Captain’s face. “Tonight, it’s Rita, or Paris if you're uncomfortable with that level of familiarity. I might answer to 'Thunderjugs' or 'Lookitmearse', but if you want my attention, Paris will do, hm?”

Watching the paunchy porcine paralyze, eyes widening, Paris rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Relax. Night out on the town, and a GOD requested your attendance. The trickster god of mischief, no less, so take that for what it's worth. Be yourself, enjoy yourself and don't worry. On my word as an officer, unless you break some very important laws tonight, nothing you say or do will be held against you professionally afterward." Drawing herself erect, the Commander was still a good six inches shorter than the troubled Tellarite. But the old school old fashioned officer looked up and fixed the space pig with an earnest expression, and when she spoke, it was with the conviction that made it clear her believable. "I swear on my honor as an officer."

"Uh... r... r... right. P... Paris it is. Gotcha." Gavarus stammered as she rather quickly went back to the replicator for a fresh drink of something harder than mimosas. Coming from someone else it might have been corny, but as Paris had made the unnerved engineer that much less at ease by pointing out that she was quite aware of some of the nicknames by which she was known, particularly by the misfits of R&D, it just came off as vaguely sinister. While Paris shrugged, and continued moving amongst the assembled women with a smile to work them up for the evening ahead.

"D'ye believe she means it aboot whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?" O'Dell muttered to Gavarus, sidling up next to her partner with the surprisingly sensitive folded-over pig ears. "Or d'ye reckon tis a trap?"

Leaning down to whisper back, Gavarus fidgeted with the necktie slightly, starting to feel more than a little confined in the moment. "Uh... I dunno. I mea, you already called her 'Thunderjugs' once and we ain't in the brig yet. Maybe she's serious?"

"Referred to, to be technical, nae that it matters," the daredevil muttered. "Boot ah did, aye, and here we stand, so calm your teats, me old chum," O'Dell offered up her beer and the two clinked them together and drank. "We're the entertainment- they brought along professional drunks to show 'em how it's done. Underneath alla them legs and height and tanned smooth skin and curves an' perfect teeth and alla... that... she's joost 'one a' the girls', aye?"

Both took a silent drink after that.

When Jablonski and Hildr showed up, both were looking somewhat gawkily awkward in a pair of bright floral sundresses. On Big Ethel's wrists were her Hera bracers, and spotting the goddess getting a pedicure, she became a bit more alert and almost visibly swelled. On the wrists of the pride of the Valkyrie corp were elaborate bracers bearing carvings so intricate they could not be seen clearly from a distance, yet were adorned with gemstones and gold- gifts from the All-Father to his faithful. The two large women's hands strayed close to one another's often, and blushing glances between the two behemoths abounded. Big Ethel opted to get her hair done, choosing a 60's big bump Jackie O style, while Hildr wove her own hair into an elaborate series of braids by practice that put O'Dell's braidwork to shame.

"Crissakes, lookit that, Briaar! She's doin' a wheat sheaf braid as part of a crown braid that's floomfin oot into a loose french braid that she's joost usin to give it an offset accent volume every other row... the woman's a bloody genius wi' her hands, and wi'oot a mirror no less!" Considerably less impressed, Gavarus grunted, shook her head and downed another beer.

In short order, utilizing half skill and half technological miracles, Sharonne Washington had whipped up exciting hairdos for all of the woman involved who didn't do it themselves. She had even changed the Commander's pompadour into a sideswept affair that, combined with the jacket, gave her quite the tomboyish appearance, that still did nothing to hide her pulchritudinous femininity. The bisected beautician also convinced the curvaceous commander to keep her black explorer boots turned down by half. This had the effect of making them rather large cuffed ankle boots, the cuffs of which hid the military nature of their design.

Maica had perfected their manicures and pedicures, using the latest technologies which made them reasonably effortless, and all of the assembled party were dressed, dolled up and ready for an evening out on the town. Gathering them all together, Rita Paris tapped the side of her glass for attention, in a traditional style. The older than she looked officer then offered a speech, as she was wont to do.

“Ladies, girls, pirates, those undeclared or fluid…” she offered the joke to a polite murmur before continuing. “We are gathered tonight to celebrate the happiness of the Baroness Schwein von Alcott, in her betrothal to the legendary god of thunder, The Mighty Thor. We do not mourn the loss of her single life, nor do we shed a tear for her spinsterhood,” Paris paused as the Baroness herself barked a laugh at that one. “Instead, we come together to celebrate her happiness, and to take one last girl’s night out without her having to concern herself with position or relations or what her husband might think. Tonight, we are all here to help her celebrate, to raise a glass and make memories that will last a lifetime… which is a pretty long time, for some of you.”

“So I invite you to raise a toast- to the Baroness, our lady of the hour! Tonight is her night- let us drink and make merry and swash and buckle to give her the sendoff she’s come to expect from her friends and family, old and new. To Schwein!” Raising her glass, Rita offered a wink to the pretty pirate, as she’d made it quite clear that she hated calling the Baroness by her given name. Yet, it WAS her name, and on her night, Rita respected it, and spoke the name without hesitation or rancor as she raised her glass.

Joining in, Dox picked her glass back up and smiled happily, "To Schwein."

Taking the hint, as Enalia literally pushed the guest of honor into the center of the room to make a small toast of her own. "Ja, I have to make my own toast as well, I see?"

"You've always made amazing ones before, so why stop now?" prodded the Trill woman.

Nodding jovially, Schwein acquiesced. "Very well. Then here is to old friends, new friends, friends we've fought with, and against..." As she listed off each one, she made eye contact with each woman there, her smile wide as it could be. "And here's to getting blitzed and painting the town red!" Here, she raised her glass in general, lifting it high and almost spilling it on herself.

"May tonight's adventures compete with the greatest stories we tell in the halls of pirates, gods, and Starfleet legends!"

Joining in, raising her glass with the others to the bride-to-be, Tovanna was wondering what in the world she had stumbled into. Thor? Loki? Pirates?!? Commander Paris was right, be prepared for ANYTHING. Tova was going to keep to virgin drinks and learning more about her crew, lest she become loose-lipped and end up saying something to infuriate someone who could erase one more of her already dying race from the universe. Her gallows humor was known far and wide among her old friends when it came to things medical and scientific. This, however, contrasted with her naiveté when it came to the more bawdy turns conversations could take in situations like this.

In terms of her people she was basically a twenty-something. A very sheltered one, at that, due to the protective nature of her parents, and the devastating situation in which the El-Aurian race found themselves. They had dreams of Tovanna finding a suitable husband of her own race, so had kept her at arm's length from others, as a dutiful daughter. Now she was out on her own for more than just a conference, and would not be returning anytime soon.

For the first time ever, Tovanna Mah found herself ready to scurry back to her room with a good story, feeling quite in over her head.

“Minerva? Minerva, where have you toddled off to?” Jaeih Dox said with the hint of concern in her voice as she looked around the baby’s mid-sized bedroom in Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell’s shared family quarters on deck 14 of the U.S.S. Hera. The reinforced crib that the child had been sleeping in was getting a bit small for the rapidly growing child. The elder Romulan babysitter knew that she had just put the child down to rest after a light dinner, but now she was gone.

Looking around the sparsely decorated room, which wasn’t too surprising as they were still unpacking from the move, Jaeih moved out into the corridor to the main living chambers. There were still boxes and assorted crates strewn about and far too many things for a baby that could waddle at just under seven months to get into. “By Al’thindor, your mothers don’t need a nanny, they need a housemaid. Minerva, you are beginning to make me nervous, I…”

Then, the elder Romulan in the blue R&D tunic’s sensitive ears picked up the slightest of giggles from behind a stack of crates marked ’engine shit’ just past the door to the baby’s bedroom and she realized that playtime was evidently not over. “Hmmm… now where would I go if I were looking for a little baby named Minerva? Perhaps… she is hiding… here!?”

The giggles continued before Jaeih could hear the sound of the tiny tot covering up her mouth as the canny former intel master spy purposely looked behind the wrong crate. “GASP! I have been evaded! How clever my quarry must…”

Then, as Jaeih was speaking, the chime at the main entrance to the family quarters chimed. “Well… that’s poor timing.” Turning around to peer behind the crates where Minnie was crouched, Jaeih rolled her eyes comically and held out her hands. “I’m afraid we must go see who that is interrupting our fun, my dear. Come here.”

Flumping down with a pout onto her bediapered rump, Minnie shot a raspberry at her caregiver and crossed her fuzzy arms to sulk as she muttered out a string of incoherent gibberish, “Mppphhrrgle BaFppppbtt Figgleefrffer.”

“Be that as it may, your mothers seem to have a visitor, so we must inform them that they have been whisked away for an evening of frivolity.” Pretending to answer the rambling, Jaeih picked Minnie up, who was a bit fussier tonight than normal and made her way to the main chamber, navigating around the boxes to press the pad at the side of the door. “Perhaps you will be staying in my quarters this evening, my dear. This is quite the labyrinth, and Minotaur or not, it is a mess.”

The door opened to reveal the Captain’s wife, Maica, as she held their daughter and Jaeih’s own Goddaughter, Moira. The holographic mother looked a bit more frazzled than usual as Jaeih spoke, “Maica? Is everything alright?”

"I... Yeah... "If you don't mind... Could you look after little Moira for a while?" Maica's attention was obviously not there as her eyes were distant and unfocused. Instead, she looked like she was expending a great amount of thought elsewhere. "I've got ten copies running around the salon helping out Sharonne right now so..."

"Of course, of course. Come in and set her down in the crib. This one is far too fussy to be put down as of yet, anyway." Jaeih said, stepping aside to let the overworked holographic lifeform in with little Moira. "Ten copies? My dear, that sounds.. extreme to say the least. Allow me to remove at least one of those tasks for a bit."

"Thank you," replied Maica, stepping inside and glancing around before being able to identify the crib and heading towards it to set Moira down inside of it. As soon as she saw that her baby girl was safely in bed, she sighed and went to sit down herself. "She'll need a bottle soon. It's almost feeding time."

"Of course, my dear. And if you forgive my saying so, you look as though you might need more than rest." Jaeih asked as she stepped over to the replicator, setting Minnie down, who simply clung to her nannies hip like an adorable barnacle as the elder Romulan ordered up a bottle of formula for Moira. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

The jade woman nodded slowly. "Could you shut off the micro-tractor emitters in this room? This is my main body and I can still feel last night's... Ahem... I don't want to feel right now. Not with my attention split like it is."

With a nod, Jaeih stepped over to the computer interface panel and began punching in commands quickly. After a few short moments, there was a chirp and she looked over to Maica. "I promise I won't even pry as to what happened last night. Is that better, my dear?" As she spoke, Jaeih stepped over and picked little Moira up and began feeding her as Minnie remained glued to her pant leg, looking up at the much smaller, green and spotted baby with wide eyes and a cooing smile.

As Maica shimmered slightly, she slumped in relief just the slightest. "Thank you. That... Sigh... That's at least one distraction I don't have to worry about anymore. I swear, if there were any other way to turn off my pain receptors... And if I could do it myself..."

Rocking the baby in her arms, Jaeih raised and eyebrow and tilted her head slightly with a slightly irritated expression, adding in a minor Romulan curse. "And why in Areinnye can you not? If I'm in pain, I can order up basic medications to assist in that regard. How would that be any different for you?"

"A weird agreement that Enalia and I have," Maica started to explain as she leaned back on the couch she'd plopped onto, waving one hand absently. If she hadn't been so focussed on things in the salon she'd have never even spoken of the topic, but distracted as she was, her tongue had been loosed. "It's part of this whole BDSM thing. She doesn't heal her bruises further than cosmetically and I do the same. We let them heal naturally so we can enjoy the pain of our pleasure longer. She's had a lot of hardship in her life and I've faced very little so... No, no... It'll come out the right color with your complexion..."

"Ahem..." Maica paused a moment, trying to organize her thoughts on this end. "We enjoy it. She enjoys the thrill and I enjoy experiencing life to the fullest."

"BDSM?" The knowledgeable former intel operative knitted her eyebrows as she searched her memory for that particular initialism before the information finally came to her. As it did, she shrugged lightly, rocking little Moira to sleep. "Ah, yes. That took me a moment to recall, but some of my more interesting customers in my smuggling days found that predilection to their liking. I, for one, suppose I come from the Tal'Shiar school of torture: If the recipient is enjoying it, you're doing it wrong."

"Still, I place no judgment, my dear. Simply concern. This particular pain has nothing to do with your pleasures and you should be able to control it without permission. Especially if it impedes your ability to function to your needs. I may need to have a little talk with Enalia when..." Then, Jaeih looked down at her leg, noticing that Minnie was no longer tugging at it. "Minerva? Where did you get to, now?"

"There's not much point to the whole thing if..." Then Jaeih's last statement hit the emerald beauty and her eyes snapped open wide as she realized that she too had lost track of the baby minotaur. "She's not in these quarters."

"Imirrhlhhse." Jaeih cursed under her breath as her head snapped around, looking for the miniature Minotaur. She couldn't hear her anywhere in the chamber this time and when she stepped out of the baby's bedroom into the main chamber, she saw that the door to the corridor was, inexplicable, still open. "Kreldanni HNAEV!"

It was clear where Jaeih's daughter picked up her predilection for cursing as she rushed into the corridor with Moira in her arms. "Oh, you great feanna. A little over a week as her nanny and you've lost the kreldanni baby. This is simply lovely. Computer!"

Listening for the telltale chirp, Jaeih stepped back into O'Dell and Gavarus' quarters as she continued. "Locate Minerva Carrot."

After a moment, the computer chirped a reply, =^=Cannot locate Minerva Carrott.=^=

"I could look for her... But I'm already stretched enough." Maica furrowed her brows in thought. "You could ask for Maru's help. They'll likely be able to find her easily enough."

"My dear, you look as if you can barely walk. I can track down criminals and Syndicate gangsters as an Intel agent, I shall find Minera easily enough. She's likely just gone toddling down the corridor and is just out of sight, no doubt. You rest and I'll be right back, and I shall check with this... Maru. Thank you." Jaeih said, doing a professional-level job of covering up her mounting anxiety at losing the baby.

Rather than replying, Maica just nodded and closed her eyes, tuning out everything around her to focus completely on everything in the salon and trusting Jaeih completely with the safety and well being of the children. After all, she knew what she was doing and Maica trusted her completely, as did Enalia.

Leaving the beleaguered holographic mother to do what appeared to be resting, Jaeih narrowed her eyes and stepped into the main chamber and O'Dell and Gavarus' replicator. Punching in some instructions, a small Tricorder and a bundle of straps and a canvas appeared.

Pulling the straps around her torso and tucking Moira safely in the front, she tucked the tiny tot to her chest in an overwhelmingly tactical looking Baby Bjorn and made off into the corridor with the Tricorder active and scanning. After a few seconds, she muttered to herself, "Ahhh. There's your heat signature, little Minerva. You toddled off this way."

Then, tapping her comm badge as she power-walked down the corridor, following the heat trail, Jaeih called out. "Jaeih Dox to Az'Prel. Are you inordinately busy, by any chance?"

There was a brief pause before the freedom fighter from another universe responded. "I was meditating. However, if you require my assistance, it is yours." There was the barest of emotion in the last part of her statement which implied that it would always be hers, but few would even be able to pick it up, let alone know to look for it.

"Yes, well... I could, indeed, use some... discrete assistance. I am currently on Deck 14 and... one moment." Jaeih stopped before the nearest Turbolift, where the heat signature stopped. After a second, the doors opened and a lift appeared, but a lift lacking Minnie's heat signature, meaning the miniature Minotaur got on a different lift and could be anywhere on the ship, in theory.

Pulling the panel off of the control PaDD outside of the lift, Jaeih used the TriCorder to access the transport records of the last ten lifts that had serviced this location before speaking again. "Pardon me. I am... looking for something that has escaped my current attention and require the application of your skills. I am on my way to Deck 4 now. Please meet me in the corridor near the Flight Deck and I shall explain in greater detail momentarily. Thank you."

"On my way," was the simple reply from Az'Prel as she hastily and efficiently gathered a few supplies and headed out.

Meanwhile, on deck 4, Mona was looking over some of the recent testing logs in the R&D offices when she could have sworn she heard the scurrying of tiny hooves run past her. Glancing up, she tapped her comm badge. "Mona to Jaeih. Are you..." But that was all she got out as the room went dark and her badge went silent.

Exiting the turbolift on Deck four, Jaeih began scanning again and, while it was faint and almost completely faded, she was able to pick up a scant few readings that indicated that Minnie was, as Jaeih suspected, heading towards the R&D lab. Folding up the tricorder and slipping it to her back pocket, the seasoned intel operative walked calmly to the door as she looked down to little Moira who was dangling from the harness on her chest, looking up at her guardian with a smile, brushing the elder woman's chin. 

As Jaeih stepped up to the doors to the deck, however, they failed to open. Looking them up and down, Jaeih tapped the entry panel, then noticed that the panel itself was inactive. Pondering the situation, she turned as she heard the only footfalls on the Hera as delicate and stealthy as her own. "Ah, thank you for coming so quickly, Az'Prel."

"I arrived as quickly as I was able. What trouble are we facing?" The Vulcan woman took everything with the same level of seriousness, no matter what it was, so she considered the call for help to be of critical importance. Plus, she was able to spend time with her sister in arms.

"I... lost a baby." Jaeih said, blushing a light shade of green as she turned to face Az'Prel, showing off the carrier with Moira strapped to her chest. "Obviously, not this one. The young Minotaur child, Minerva. She has never run off like this before, but with my new duties to safeguard these children, I am understandably concerned. And to make matters worse, the ship's computer cannot seem to actually locate her."

"I tracked her heat signature to this flight deck where the R&D department is located. Her parents work here and as such, as do I usually, so I suspect she's looking for them. However, the room seems sealed and the mechanism is unpowered." Jaeih said, looking at the door. "Annnddd, if my Daughter-in-Law asks me what's wrong and I have to tell her, she will automatically know I'm lying. She is literally a living lie detector. I need to get in that room and find that baby, Az'Prel."

"Yes, the abilities of the race as a whole are indeed fascinating," Az'Prel replied thoughtfully. "Perhaps it may be best if I enter the labs from this point and you enter from another point. If Lieutenant Gonadie questions me, I am confident I will be able to evade any direct queries without lying."

"If anyone could, It would be you." Jaeih said, looking around at the corridor thinking through her options. "Yes... yes, that could work. There's a Jefferies Tube access port behind this panel here that leads up and above the lab into the ductwork."

"This is fundamentally insane. I know it is, but..." Jaeih looked over at Az'Prel and her face relaxed ever so slightly. "I need to do this. I need to find that child and make sure she's safe. They trusted me with her and they never will again if they know I lost her."

"Understood. I am here to assist in any way possible," Az'Prel replied, her voice a bit softer than usual as she turned to the door controls. She removed the lower panel and yanked on the emergency release handle so the doors would slide freely. She then wedged her fingertips between the larger double doors and easily pried them apart before slipping inside.

Inside the offices, the door behind her slid shut slowly from the light spring action still in place, leaving Az'Prel now in complete darkness. The only sounds to be heard the cycling of the deck plating, a few random electronic storage containers, the breathing of an avian in distress, and what sounded like a child giggling.

Fortunately, Az'Prel could see well enough in complete darkness - she just had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust.

Meanwhile, Jaeih found herself scooching up the ladder of the Jefferies tube that lead into the overhead working space above the R&D department. With Moira still strep to her chest, the elder Romulan couldn't believe what she was doing, but she had committed to the ludicrous action and would see it through. 

As quietly as possible, she found herself in a crawlspace that ran adjacent to the power couplings in the ceiling of the landing bay. Inching along, there was no light to speak of coming up from the air vents every few meters, but like Az'Prel, she could hear what was happening below. In her office, Mona seemed to be reaching around for a tricorder in the dark. But at least it sounded like she had not tried getting up and was doing so from the safety of her seat. And across the bay, near the break room, Jaeih could hear the sound of scampering hooves and a somewhat energetic giggle. The same kind of giggle Minnie made when they were playing earlier. 

Scoffing lightly in the duct, Jaeih shook her head and looked down at Moira who was reaching out towards the vent. Whispering, the Romulan nanny almost chuckled herself. "Your little playmate is playing a game herself, it seems. 'Find the Minotaur in the Labyrinth.' Interesting."

Pulling out her tricorder, Jaeih deactivated the sound circuit so it would run silent and tucked it in close so it's light wouldn't shine out of the vents. There was Minnie's heat signature. She was waddling away from the control console where Briaar Gavarus worked. Az'Prel was down there as well, inching through the space towards Mona's office. Recalling the layout, Jaeih quietly opened the vent cover and crawled out to a ladder that lead back to the main deck. But as she put her foot on the first rung to head down to the control panel Minnie had just been at, little Moira let out a tiny giggle that echoed eerily through the darkness.

"Hnaev..." Jaeih whispered as she froze on the ladder for a moment. 

"Ok! This is starting to get more than a little creepy!" called out the Miradonian woman in the dark, still fumbling around on her desk for a tricorder. She could see quite a bit given the barest amount of light, but in complete darkness she was lost.

By this time, Az'Prel had gained her night sight and was able to walk normally to Mona's office door. "My apologies Lieutenant. Mrs Dox informed me that there was a possible emergency in your offices so I am here to investigate. Please stand by patiently while I do so."

"Ah... So at least a bit of my call did make it out. I guess... Just... Please be quick?" The quiver in Mona's voice and the rustling of feathers as she scrunched up to hold herself tighter belied her inner fears of being in the dark like she was.

"I will endeavor to be as efficient as possible," replied the Vulcan woman as she headed towards the last place she had heard Minnie's hooves.

Hearing the exchange from the ladder on the wall with her exceptionally keen, Romulan ears, Jaeih whispered down to Moira in the carrier on her chest. "You're going to get us caught, little one. Shush." Then, taking advantage of the brief conversation happening in the distance, she made her way down the ladder quickly, hoping the sound would be covered well enough.

At the bottom, she felt around with her feet and immediately knew what had happened. Flipping open the tricorder, she scanned the console and it appeared that Minnie had removed about half of the isolinear chips from the wall panel and had been firmly but consistently chewing on them. "Well, that will disrupt power to be sure." She whispered to herself as she began to re-insert the chips that were still intact.

In the distance, she could hear Az'Prel following Minnie, but she couldn't see a thing as she kept looking at the backlit Tri-Corder display and ruining the work her eyes did adjusting to the darkness. Then, after a minute, she realized an additional problem: one of the chips was gnawed on beyond being useable. "Of, for Al'thindor's sake, this is intolerable." She whispered as Moira giggled slightly, grasping for the colorful lights of the Tricorder.

"Ah, excellent suggestion, little warrior." Jaeih whispered with a smirk as she deactivated the device and, in total darkness, popped open the back and felt for the device's own circuitry, and the single chip inside that would solve, at least, temporarily, the problem.

As the lights came back on, Az'Prel was right behind them with a very mischievous looking Minnie in her grasp. Handing the child off to Jaeih, she headed over to Mona's office door. "I believe I have discovered the issue. There seems to be a problem in your office isolinear circuitry. It has been temporarily repaired. I recommend an engineering team go over it for full repairs."

Her brows furrowed, Mona stared at the Vulcan woman for several moments before replying. Nothing she said was untrue, but she couldn't help but feel like there was more to it than that. "Yes... Thank you... Since Gavarus is out for the day and I'm in no shape for it, I'll put in a request."

From behind Az'Prel, there was the slightest sound of metal clanging on metal. Faint and distant, but still enough to attract the curious R&D Chief's attention, but when she glanced over there was nothing to see. But above both women, in the darkness of the ducts that ran over the department, Jaeih slowly crawled on her hands and knees. Strapped to her chest, Moira was reaching around as, clinging to Jaeih's back and enjoying every second of the minor adventure, little Minnie leaned over and nuzzled her flustered Nanny's cheek with her own.

Whispering faintly, Jaeih shook her head lightly and smiled in spite of herself. "Well, my dears, let it never be said that I will not go to great lengths OR heights to protect you two."

-------------------------

On the couch in Ensign's O'Dell and Gavarus' quarters, Maica was finally simply resting as it appeared that her processing was no longer being stretched thin among several copies in the ship's salon. Slowly, she opened her eyes to the sound of giggling children as Moira and Minerva were sitting in the center of the floor in front of her playing their favorite game as the little green-skinned baby swung her toy sword at the fuzzy Minotaur who parried the attacks with her own horns.

Sitting at the table opposite, each sipping a beverage, was Jaeih and Az'Prel, overseeing the children and reading the large tome that Hera had bestowed upon the Minotaur babe's parent to instruct them on the ins and outs of raising such a child. With a raised eyebrow, Jaeih tilted her head and spoke softly. "How was your rest, my dear. According to the security reports, the party has officially moved off-ship so I am assuming the preparations went well?

"Yeah... Yeah, everything is ok. I think I finally know what exhaustion really is." Maica smiled weakly as she looked around the room. "My core unit got up around two hundred celsius. I'll have to run some diagnostics while dreaming tonight."

"A wise precaution, to be sure," Jaeih said, sipping her coffee as she betrayed on her face nothing of what had occured. "Might I suggest getting some rest. Enalia is off having a no doubt fine evening. And I'm sure that if Az'Prel wouldn't mind assisting me, that we can watch two children tonight as well as one."

"I think I may take you up on that offer,. Thank you," the jade woman replied. Without even getting up, she waved one hand in the air as if accessing a menu only she could see and tapped at the air a couple times. With a tired grin at the two other women, she dissolved into the air, leaving nothing behind for now.

Az'Prel pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I truly hope that she finds the rest that she seeks. I have never before seen an artificial life form look... Weary."

"NOr I. But I'm sure she will get her rest. And if not, I shall speak with both Enalia about how much she tasks her wife and to Mona about possibly upgrading her power systems." Jaeih said taking another sip of her coffee before putting it down to look at the book, opened to a page on some of the unique abilities of Minotaurs. Smiling slightly, she shook her head and chuckled. "Well, now we know that if you wish to play hide and seek in a labyrinth of any kind... like the corridors of this vessel... you become invisible to sensor detection. It's a good thing your little hooves still left heat behind you."

Pausing to glance up while playing, Minnie giggled almost as if she understood and was proud as she bounced up and down on her rump. While doing so, Moira took advantage of the distraction to bop her opponent on the top of the head as her toy sword gave out a squeaky honk. 

As the kids went back into their playtime with renewed gusto, Jaeih turned to her Vulcan companion and nodded slightly. "But again, I must give you my thanks. You did not have to put yourself or your reputation aboard this ship in danger to help me protect my... reputation. I am, as always, in your debt."

The Vulcan woman merely bowed her head humbly. "As I consider you a sister it was only logical. I am at your service, should you ever have need of me."

Raising her eyebrow, Jaeih shook her head. "Logic? You helped me deceive an officer for no reason other than to help me protect my... wounded pride. That was more than logic, my Rinam."

Using the Romulan word for "sister", Jaeih put her hand on Az'Prel's and smiled warmly. "Since our first mission, you have had my trust, Rinam. Since then, you have had far more. I would... have you know this, though I admit... I do not know what it means."

The interdimensional Vulcan woman nodded, taking the Romulan woman's hand in her own. "I admit that I have a similar feeling and that I have meditated on it for many days. I believe it is a bonding of the heart. Perhaps as kindred spirits as we have faced similar hardships in our lives and understand each other better for it."

Az'Prel paused a moment, obviously wanting to say more, even to one unskilled in reading Vulcans. After a moment she finally gave in. "It is illogical... but when you were kidnapped... it took all of my control not to go after you alone and to suppress the rage in my heart that I had for these Tal'Shiar."

"But you acted logically. I know that Commander Paris would have had to lock me up again to have kept me away, as well." Jaeih said, blushing slightly. "I cannot pretend to understand what it is to be Vulcan. Too many generations separate our people, but I long ago accepted that our people needed each other again to be complete. As I find I need you. Perhaps... a bonding of the heart is the best way to describe it."

"This is... different... from what I felt with Dra'lath... with Mnhei'sahe's father. But I could not ignore its strength. And... thank you again for your help this evening. Knowing I can count on you means... much."

"I believe you would have done no less for me," replied Az'Prel simply before another thought came to her - a bit of a comparison that had arisen in her meditation. She had previously dismissed it as illogical, but after having seen the people of the Mol Krunchi colony, the thought had arisen again and she was curious as to what Jaeih thought of it.

"Perhaps..." The Vulcan woman looked deep into Jaeih's eyes for a moment before continuing, her voice softer than usual. "Perhaps being a logician from a universe where Vulcans did not embrace logic, but instead embraced their fiery passions, I am in a way... Not unlike the embodiment of the reunification that you seek for your own people. And perhaps you are not unlike the passionate people that I have lost."

"And as such... we fulfill yet another need we each share. ANd in that, there is... completion." Jaeih said as, in the center of the room Moira and Minnie were still playing but both looked like they were keeping going in spite of their mounting fatigue. "That is... logical to me. Now, let me attend to my duties and put these two little gekha to bed"

Referring to the dueling children with the Romulan word for 'warriors', Jaeih stood up and adjusted her blue uniform tunic that she was learning to take considerable pride in, emblazoned no longer with the Romulan sigil but with the Starfleet Delta, and stepped over. Kneeling down, she gently picked up the fuzzy bovine babe who fussed in vain in her arms. As she did, Moira continued to swing her tiny, toy sword about while yawning.

Hoisting the tiny tot on her hip, Minnie quickly shifted from fussing to tucking up against Jaeih's chest and starting to drift. Adjusting her slightly to account for the weight, Jaeih smiled lightly and turned back to Az'Prel. "If you would, can you bring the little one with me. There's more than enough room in Minerva's crib for them both, but this one is quite heavy on her own. Thank you."

The Vulcan woman simply nodded and stood, straightening her own rust red and grey padded Vulcan-esque casual attire. From there, she moved over to stand almost ominously over the Captain's daughter for a moment before picking her up and tucking her into her own prodigious bosom. Ominous, but only to those that missed the momentary haunted look in the lost Vulcan's eyes wondering what Starfleet Intel was doing with her own daughter.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Moira snuggled in tighter and her toy sword let out a long, slow 'squeeeeee......' as the babe clung to her. Clearly she had chosen her place to nap, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Az'Prel.

"Ahh, you have something in common with her mothers that she seems to have taken to." Jaeih said with a light smirk. As she did, she set Minnie down gently into the crib eliciting a slight bit of fussiness from the dozing Minotaur babe before she settled back down, curling up into a ball and making a positively adorable sound, not unlike the mix of a cat's purr with a cow's moo.

Then, the former Intel agent turned towards her bond-sister with the spotter green babe nuzzled to her breast and held out her hands to take the sleeping Moira.

"A logical assumption," Az'Prel whispered, doing her best to disentangle herself from Moira's grasp and hand her off to Jaeih. "If you require the use of my assets for this purpose in the future... I am not opposed."

"I may just do so, shall I need your... skills... again." Jaeih replied, quelching a light chuckle at the double entendre of the use of the word 'assets' in the current scenario. "Although... I believe I am... what is the human expression... getting the 'hang' of this somewhat awkward new position."

"Two intelligence agents trusted with the children of the future." Jaeih said, setting Moira down on her back next to Minnie, who immediately reached over and hugged up against her little green friend, cooing as the slept. "Welcome to the future, little ones. Hope we all survive the experience."

Twenty-two solar cycles ago, Lar Beltu had been contracted by Space Las Vegas: the Attraction as the program director for it’s Bellagio Casino water show. Thousands of fountains that were capable of a great variety of geyser, sprays, and patterns, working in harmony with projected laser lights, holograms, and music to produce dazzling effects that held vacationers to the Risa arcology spellbound. He had studied what existed of the original earth attraction and modified, improved upon, and created bigger and better shows from those humble beginnings. After twenty-two years in Space Las Vegas, he genuinely felt he had seen it all by this point. After all, if it happened in Space Las Vegas, it tended to stay there, as they advertised in a ploy to encourage visitors to cut loose and be wild and adventurous.

Tonight was no different, as the 9 PM show was winding to a close. This show was an homage to the Bajoran composer Tliev Drunand as the fountains sprayed and the music built, Lar watched with pride as the precision timing of the fountains corresponded to the beats of the music, and the fireworks projected through them were dazzling the crowd. Even as he considered just what he was going to change all of this out for next week, something unexpected occurred. Which never happened, since climate control was a given and the airspace above Risa was strictly routed to not interfere with such spectacles.

Of course, no one told that to the rainbow which suddenly poured out of the night sky like a holographic Pride parade, to end in his fountain lake. Which would have been remarkable in and of itself, until the rainbow then bent near the water’s surface, extending itself by an additional twenty meters to the viewing deck.

All of this would be enough to fray the show designer’s nerves, as being something of a control freak, he immediately hated anything that disrupted his show. But then figures suddenly appeared on the lake, striding across the rainbow to the viewing deck. Humanoid women, to be precise- 12 of them. Some appeared normal, some looked like visiting dignitaries, and a few looked like enormous hypermuscled parodies of women.

As they strode across the water on their rainbow bridge, he fumed and fussed. Who were these people? Why were they here? What were they doing, wrecking his finale? All of these questions flashed through his mind, even as the crowd roared their approval with applause and cheers.

Now Lar had a new problem for next week’s show- how to make a rainbow appear and have dancers appear on it to step into the crowd. Already his mind was working on it, and he was working out the logistics so he could sell this to the casino owners as a preview of the upcoming show…

Stepping across the literal rainbow bridge known as the legendary Bifrost, the women were suddenly the target of a multitude of holocams and recorders filming away. Though as the crowd filmed, one of their number made the slightest of gestures with her hand, and smirked. The woman in question was statuesque, standing tall with a horned gold helm, decked out in gold, green and black with flowing raven hair over pale skin and emerald eyes.

"Ahh, the paparazzi. Fear not, their recordings will show either blurs without detail or faces not quite our own. No reason to allow outsiders or so-called authorities to muddy our fabulous entrance." Loki, the Goddess of Mischief said with a grin as she positioned herself at the center of the grouping.

As they walked, the red-headed Romulan pilot in the green dress with the black bolero jacked unlinked her arm from the arm of the blond bombshell in the black leather jacket that walked beside her. Mnhei'sahe Dox knew that the Bifrost wasn't exactly a transporter, but with Rita Paris' issues... and fears... regarding such technology, she wanted to assure her commander and friend that if she got sucked away to another dimension by chance during the trip, Dox was holding on for the ride. "That felt... different. Almost like... really flying."

“Yeah… yeah, it was different, all right,” Rita Paris replied, patting the arm that had gripped her when the Bifrost had taken hold. Offering a grateful smile to her shipmate, Rita composed herself as she walked. Intellectually, she knew that the rainbow bridge was a wormhole of sorts, a stargate connection between two locales guided by a conscious sentience. Hera, who had gripped her left hand during transit, had explained it all to her in advance. But Rita distrusted all such technology given her life experiences, and was inordinately relieved when her feet touched solid planet beneath them.

As they walked away from the Bifrost site, Hera squeezed Rita's hand tenderly, a motherly grin on her face. "See? Nothing like your transporters. Plus I would never let anything happen to you if I'm able to prevent it. I do miss Yggdrasil though. It was much more... Discreet."

Thex being a species that used their antenna to help balance themselves had taken the Asgardian transport system a little harder than others and was having to take a moment to steady herself. Fighting back the urge to lose her lunch she breathed in a few times to steady herself. " That was certainly something." She said weakly as she regained herself, Rita lending a hand to steady the slender Andorian. Once she was reasonably stable, the fabulous first officer took a few quick steps to get out in front of the group, turning to face them.

“All right ladies, this is the Bellagio Hotel Casino,” Paris addressed the group, acting as den mother and tour guide, which was the role she naturally assumed in such moments. “Fine dining, nightclubs- this place has it all. So while we are more than welcome to range wherever we wish, we have a penthouse suite reserved, considerable credit at the casinos and a basically blank bar tab, thanks to the Artan family privateers. So…. Given that we’re here, we’re dressed and we are all a bit pregamed, what do you say we hit the club and start with some dancing?”

Thex was now recovered and a smile spread over her face. "Sounds great!"

Tovanna's eyes looked about with barely contained emotion as she muttered under her breath, "Be prepared for anything." She closed her eyes for a moment as she refocused herself, "Might I inquire where we are?"

"Fair question, Ms, Mah... Tovanna?" Paris tried it out, internally settling instead on her own choice. "This is planet Risa, the northern hemisphere, continent Espargus, in the Space Las Vegas: the Attraction arcology. The effort of the Risans in this particular theme park is to reproduce a golden age of a city on Earth which was legendary as a tourist destination for drinking, gambling showcases, and debauchery. It seemed to suit the spirit of the evening, so I booked us reservations and... well, here we are. About 42 light-years from the Hera's current position, Doc."

Tovanna smiled, "Tova, my friends call me Tova."

"Now, I know we're all here to have the best night of our lives..." Enalia started off, responsibility in her voice. "But keep in mind that though the Artans have considerable sway here, if you're arrested, I can't just wave some latinum and get you out like normal. That being said, I believe the Earth phrase 'what goes in Vegas stays in Vegas' applies tonight, so let's burn this place to the ground."

With a holler, the one-eyed pirate tossed Fiona over her shoulder, wrapped one arm around Briaar, and led the charge to the nightclub dance floor. The startled swine squealed as the leprechaun cheered while the space privateer dragged them off with the intent of cutting a rug. To get to the club you had to pass through the casino first, of course, as it was the common area between all of the resort's amenities. But large neon signs and high ceilings made locating the nightclub a simple task.

As they entered the club, O'Dell managed to get the marauding maiden of mayhem to at least stop by the bar for drinks, which instead turned into three stolen bottles of beer from a server's platter as Schwein found the laser-lit dancefloor she'd been looking for, with a thumping bass beat and a hook to get her groove on.

As if stepping out from nowhere, the palest Japanese woman you'd ever seen, dressed head to toe all in black silk joined the group as the rest of the party caught up stepped out of the shadows and into the nightclub. Though she wore a black silk dress with a capelet and long gloves with high heeled boots and covered her head with a hood, she still looked like she was there to party with the rest of them. It just also looked like she was there for a funeral. Thankfully, it seemed that as she could be perceived for a change, most people gave her a wide berth.

But Mnhei'sahe Dox wasn't most people where the dark woman was concerned. Turning just a moment before the Red-headed Romulan's unusual friend appeared, Mnhei'sahe smiled warmly for her arrival. "Rei. I'm so glad you could make it! That dress is amazing!"

"Thank you," replied the pale woman, modeling the dress a bit. "It took a while to make it, but it seems I was just in time. This makes twice now that your ship and crew have caused me to have need of this trick so I'm hoping it doesn't become a habit. These dresses aren't easy to make."

"You made this? It's lovely, Rei. You look fantastic." Mnhei'sahe said with a broad smile, looking Rei up and down to take in the handiwork of the black, silk dress. As she did, the tall goddess in green, gold and black approached and bowed lightly.

"Greetings, Mistress of the veil. You honor us with your presence this evening. It has been some time since I've seen you engage in festivities." Loki smiled at the dark woman.

"Oh yes, it was at the feast where Baldur was murdered, wasn't it?" Rei offered one hand to Loki daintily, a rather sinister grin on her face. "That was quite the amusing time, wasn't it?"

Taking the gloved hand somewhat stiffly, the Goddess of Mischief gave it a light peck before standing back up and nodding, her smile only slightly dimmed. "Yes, amusing indeed. Well, on to our festivities."

At the bar, Rita was ordering rounds of shots, making specific requests, some of which she had to explain to the bartender complete with recipes. Fortunately, there were enough original ingredients and substitutions that she had her tray full of shots. As she turned to leave the bar she literally ran into Big Ethel, narrowly avoiding a collision with the walking mass of muscle.

"Uh, Commander?" she began before Rita cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"Not Commander. Not tonight." Handing Ethel a shot, she watched as the shotglass disappeared like a thimble in the big woman's grasp. Turning back to the bar, she ordered a dozen more shots in one tumbler. Setting the tray on the bar, Paris chose a shot for herself and toasted the mighty muscled maiden. Tossing the shot down, Paris smiled and smacked her lips in satisfaction. "What's on your mind, Ethel?"

"Uhm, me and Hildr, we wanna go hump. But, yannow, Hera's abroad, in a very potentially dangerous environment. So as her honor guard-" the titanic farmgirl began, her hands together as she tapped her thick index fingers together before Paris cut her off.

"Miss Jablonski, you are officially relieved of duty until you return. I shall stand this watch of the honor guard and keep an eye on the goddess. You go have some fun together. You're a hardworking sailor, and..." It was at this point that Rita Paris realized that Jablonski was already hustling toward the exit, Hildr moving on an intercept course.

"Well... allll righty then," Paris mused as she gathered up the shots, took the shaker and headed for the dance floor to lower inhibitions and raise spirits, with spirits.

Tovanna looked at the tray as Paris approached, "Ummm, anything without alcohol? I figured I would stay clear-headed in case my services were needed."

"Don't tell the girls," Paris whispered conspiratorially out of the side of her mouth, "but the shots are all synthehol. They can order their own drinks and get as hammered as they like, but shots will be the death of you, too much, too fast. Thus these are all synthehol- so live it up, Doc."

Tova looked nervous, "Umm, okay. I could use a little bit of liquid courage. Thank you." With that she took just one shot and sipped at it not downing like many others, rather nursing it with a great deal of hesitation at the situation. She watched the rest of the ladies and put on a brave smile, trying to hide her nerves as she stood on the edge of the group quietly.

Or at least tried to.

"C'mon, Tova. This is way too big a place to be a stranger, to stick with the herd tonight, okay?" Paris admonished the shy immortal. As an eyebrow quirked, Paris pivoted, then handed the tray to the bashful beauty. "Here. Dispense liquid courage without violating your code to do no harm. You have an icebreaker, and you know how to dispense medicinals I suspect. Howbout it, Doc? Come join the party?"

"I wouldn't want to wander off without the herd tonight as rambunctious as the herd may be," she took a drink to work on. "Is this the 'unexpected' you warned I should be prepared for?"

Looking around, Paris nodded her head thoughtfully. "Yes, Ms. Mah. This is very much what I meant, and more." Internally, Rita debated explaining the 'and there's often much worse parts, this is just a fun night out', but decided against it. An Alice through the looking glass analogy occurred, and she debated it strongly. Instead, she chose honesty, as she tended to do more often than not. Leaning in close to the shorter woman, Rita Paris wrapped her arm around the shoulder of the El-Aurian and cupped her hand to the immortal's ear.

"It has been my experience that the universe will defy its own laws, the impossible is merely improbable, and generally speaking, what you think you know is vastly dwarfed by what you do not yet comprehend. But with each such encounter, our knowledge of those phenomenon, events and beings increases; thus, they become less mysterious." Pulling back, Paris sought eye contact with the deep green eyes of the women who'd lived on Earth for the past hundred years.

"It's a flaw of Earthlings... we tend to fear what we do not understand. Overcoming that as a species has been our greatest triumph. It enabled us to reach for the stars, to explore the galaxy of which we are citizens. So keep your eyes open, and yes, watch out for trouble. But take in the wonders of the universe as they present themselves to you, and you can learn to live in harmony with... a lot of them. Some not so much, but... that's my philosophy, at least."

"That's 'be ready for anything', Tovanna Mah." Pulling back, Rita Paris sought eye contact once more, holding the surgeon by the shoulders and giving her an encouraging smile. "Think you can do that?"

"You realize the last time my people had serious run-ins with a hostile force we were basically exterminated right? They tell us boogie man stories about the dangers of space exploration beyond the base requirements. It's why the youngest of my people stick planetside waiting to be married off. I am one of the brave few, the ones who have no marriage prospects or refuse to wait for one that is ill-fitting just to please her family. Doesn't mean I'm going to go jumping into the fire though. I know what I know and then I know there is a great deal that falls into the 'I know I don't know or I don't even know I don't know'. I think this might even bypass the latter category," Tova downed some more liquid courage.

"At this point I feel like half my crew could crack me between their thighs or might use me for a virgin sacrifice and that's just the ladies! All I have for defense is knowledge of how to sedate you all in no time flat and flipping lollipops," she looked down at yet another empty shot glass. "How many of these have I had?" She asked Paris blinking quickly as her brain tried to keep up with what her mouth just said.

There was consideration to ask why she felt threatened by her own shipmates. There was disappointment that her attempt to inspire and encourage had failed. There was a growing unease that if this threw the good doctor's merry-go-round off the tracks, how poorly would she react then, in a genuine crisis? All of this was considered in the moment, but the answer was the simplest one for Paris to offer.

"Not enough, it seems..." Taking the tray back from the anxious physician, Paris moved out amongst the dancers to find the rest of the landing party, easily spotting the lithe blue-skinned dancing machine. Stepping up, she offered the engineer a shot.

Thex gulped the shot down in one gulp before indicating she wanted another. It had been a long time since she'd been on Risa, and back then she'd been on the southern islands enjoying the vast beaches and coral reefs. She paused as she took another shot. She had a feeling someone was watching her. Without moving her head she pretended to take another shot using the reflection in the glass to scan the room. Despite the massive crowd in the club, she couldn't see anyone giving the group a passing glance. The feeling had gone away as the blue girl downed the drink.

Stepping over from where she had been talking with Masato Rei, Dox smiled with her usual mix of nervous energy as she eyed the drinks on the tray Rita was carrying. Next to her, the Captain was also taking in the options. "Ahh, there we go. Annnnd... I think Rei will like that. Thank you." 

Taking two of the small shot glasses, she gave the light blue one a light sniff and raised an eyebrow and smirked lightly at Rita tellingly. Having grown up smuggling the real thing, she could spot synthaholic Romulan Ale a parsec away, but agreed with the rationale that she hadn't overheard but understood implicitly regardless. As she was about to step back over to where Rei was waiting, however, she froze in place at the sight of a burly, gray, wild furred, old Caitian man with an artificial eye and an artificial leg who was clomping from the nearby bar over to where they were standing.

The color blanched out of Dox's face as she tried to slightly stand between the approaching Caitian and the taller Rita Paris. As he stepped up, the strange feline paused not in front of her but a couple of feet in front of Captain Telvan. As he did, he offered her a deep and respectful bow. Smiling, his voice was a gravely, deep tenor with an accent that seemed like a sing-song mash of half a dozen different planets. "By the stars that guide us all, as I live n' breathe. Forgive my impertinence, your highness, but I could not resist the opportunity to introduce myself to the Queen of the Artan Privateers. You and yours keep the spaceways safe for honest men such as myself to earn a livin'. Captain Rankin Frees of the freighter 'Rocking Chair' at yer service and in yer debt."

The Trill woman was in full Queen mode at the moment, her spine stiff, her bearing regal and the air about her almost completely still. Even the music seemed to have quieted out of respect. "Captain Rankin Frees, was it? Of the 'Rocking Chair'? I believe I've seen your name come across my reports before." Then she did something unexpected. She reached out and rested a hand on the old cat's shoulder, smiling brightly. "It's because of people like you that we're doing what we are. So that we can build an Empire in the lawless parts of space that the Federation has abandoned since the war, and protect people like you, and all the worlds you run between. Because everyone deserves freedom."

"You do me a most kind service, yer majesty. And I stand at yer service to th' cause." The gray-furred Caitin man replied before his nose... twitched ever so slightly. The twitch turned into an active moment of sniffing the air as he tilted his wildly bushy brow and leaned ever so slightly between Enalia and where Rita was standing. Just enough to see the bit of red hair peeking out behind the buxom blonde.

"Beggin' yer pardon, yer highness... but... I swear I know that scent." The Caitian Captain commented as his eyes went wide. "Wait... Doxxie!? DOXXIE!! I can't believe it! Yer runnin' with th' QUEEN a' th' Artans!?"

Shrinking slightly and blushing perhaps the deepest shade of green that wither Enalia or Rita had ever seen the anxious pilot turn, Dox smiled awkwardly and muttered a string of curses in Romulan behind Rita's back that all in earshot knew very well, "Ri’anov kreldanni hnaev. Nouhha'fvadt staere."

Of course Enalia knew the invectives that she had said all too well and grinned even wider as she decided to make things even worse. "Ah, so you know Baroness Mnhei'sahe Dox already?"

As Dox tossed back both shots in quick order, the rotund Caitian stepped back slightly and had a look of beaming pride on his face as he looked from Enalia to Dox. "Baroness? by the stars, I can't believe it, girl! Look at you, c'mere and give ol' Frees a hug!"

Shrinking slightly, Dox stepped around Rita and over to him. "Ie... Jolan'Tru, Rankin. It's been a long time." she said stiffly as he wrapped her up in the biggest bear-hug he could manage. Squinting, Dox gasped for air for a moment before he finally let up, putting his paws on her arms and holding her at arm's length to look her up and down.

Addressing Enalia again, the old Caitian nodded with a massive smile in place. "Why yes, yer majesty. I've known her since she was... what was it, twelve? I ran quite a few jobs with her and her mother back in the day. And when Doxxie... when the Baroness was shipped off to Earth, ol' Jaeih all but threatened to cut off my tail and feed it to me if I didn't keep an eye on her. But the last I heard, she had joined Starfleet academy?"

"Oh yes, she's also a Lieutenant Commander. And Chief Helm Officer aboard the Nebula class USS Hera, flagship of Starfleet Intel Command," Enalia added, the mischievousness in her grin deepening even as Rita made a 'Aren't we supposed to not exist why are you saying that in a bar' face at her. which turned to a fakes smile when the Caitan captain turned back her way again.

Pursing her lips slightly as she shot Enalia the faintest of glares, Dox was realizing that her Captain was enjoying embarrassing her at least a little in the moment and she sighed. As she did, the wild-furred Caitian reached up and cupped her face with his paws, slightly squishing her chubby cheeks as he did. "Lieutenant Commander Baroness Doxxie!? I knew you could go far, kiddo! I knew it, I did! Told EVERYONE, I did!"

Once the hands came up, the tray of shots was slid off onto a tabletop, and Rita Paris rather improbably ducked beneath the furry arms, interposing herself quite physically between the old smuggler and the mortified Romulan. As her shoulders came up, they broke the hold the Caitian had on the face of the officer in question, as Rita smiled benignly at the old acquaintance. “And look, you were right! Now you can brag to everyone. As for the lady in question, I’m afraid she has a date on the dance floor.”

Smiling a winning smile, Rita pivoted in place, took Dox by the shoulders to spin her about, and began marching her out to the dance floor in a practiced maneuver that indicated this was not the first time Rita Paris had interrupted such an encounter, nor would it be the last.

“Admirals and captains used to do pretty much the same thing at The Commander’s parties, and I learned early on how to break them up effectively. It’s easier when you’re taller, though, I have to say,” Rita muttered as she steered Dox by the shoulders through the crowd, confident that the sensitive pointed ears would pick up on her voice, even through the din of the nightclub and the music. The tri-level club, built around the rather sprawling dance floor, was illuminated primarily in red lights, with other colors strobing in as laser lights raked the floor and walls in patterns in time with the beat of the music.

Having finished her shots and seeing her best friends heading for the dance floor the Andorian did so as well. Merging with the crowd of dancers the sapphire engineer began to let herself go as her body began to move to the music. As her limbs began to move like water in her own chimera dancing style she could feel herself relaxing as she felt all her stress fading away.

In spite of the roar of the dance floor, Dox heard every sweet word from her golden rescuer. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that the old Caitian, Rankin, had not missed a beat and was likely talking Enalia's ear off with horribly embarrassing old stories that the Captain would now have in her quiver. But at that moment, all she cared about was that she wasn't in the middle of that anymore. 

Looking up at Rita, Dox smiled with a look of relief almost as deep as during her rescue from the Tal'Shiar as she mouthed back broadly, "THANK YOU."

However, Paris seemed fixed on a sight ahead of them, mouth slightly agape.

Turning to see what had the leggy blonde so distracted, Dox took in a rather unique sight. Apparently, O’Dell had taken it upon herself to teach Gavarus how to dance a jig. However, with the bride-to-be joining in as well as Loki, there were now a crowd of easily a dozen dancers, all following the midget Mariposian’s lead as she called the moves of the dance, and more interested onlookers seemed to be joining in. While a jig would not seem to be adaptable to the modern synthesized music with the driving dance beat, the small stereotype was quite clearly demonstrating that it was not only possible, but that it could become rather contagious.

After all, people who were poorly skilled dancers could still dance a jig if properly led, and the sight of the archaic energetic dance on a very futuristic dance floor was rather entertaining.

The two-meter tall, 187 kilogram Tellarite was doing her level best to keep up, though the act of dancing was clearly straining the portly Porcine as her disproportionately small hooves clicked on the dance floor. "You... Think... *Huff*... this is... *Huff*... awesome, you should see... see Fee do this shit... *Huff*... In a big ass mech! It's... Frickin' EPIC!"

Tova didn't know where to rest her eyes or ears, the pirate talking about Dox, the wee redhead dancing a jig with gods of legend, Dox herself dancing in the most entrancing way? She downed her remaining shot, reached over to the abandoned tray of remaining drinks and downed two more. This was a night she was going to need more than liquid courage and an open mind to be prepared for anything, this was a night she might need a serious session with the ship's Counselor with afterwards. No amount of training prepared someone for a second week of duty like this.

Ironically, a thought shared by every chief medical officer of the Hera that had come before her.

Grabbing her partner's three-fingered hands, O'Dell was leading the hooved hamhock through some spins and twirls. Though they couldn't interlock arms because of the size difference between them, they could still hold hands. So with the girl from the planet which was an odd mixture of high tech and 18th century Ireland taking lead on the dance floor, Gavarus was discovering that hooves were kind of made for the action of a homespun improvised jig. As Loki had taken over calling the jig reel, now just dancing with her partner dancing she could improvise for an eight count.

"Lookit ye, yuiur a dancin machine, ye are! Right light on yuir feet ye are tonight, me bucko!" O'Dell called out encouragingly, as she could see the swine was starting to sweat.

"If by... machine... you mean... an overloaded freighter... with a...*Huff*... with an overheating nacelle... *Huff*... that sounds 'bout right!" Gavarus griped, as she generally did, but with that specific smile that told Fiona not to take it seriously. It was just the way they talked to each other and she wouldn't be who she was if the portly Porcine wasn't complaining about something. 

Smiling and genuinely seeming to enjoy herself in the moment, the Goddess of Mischief let out a laugh while dancing herself. "LIBATIONS! We need more LIBATIONS! I shall secure some from the barkeep and return anon! Have you all any requests?"

“Irish whiskey shot if ye please, and a pair of beers fuir me winded dance partner here!” O’Dell called out as she danced the surprisingly light on her feet space swine around the trickster god.

"HA! Indeed!" Loki exclaimed as she stepped away, seeming to be completely caught up in the moment and simply enjoying herself. 

" I'll have an Orion starburst." Thex added as the Asgardian passed her.

Just then, as Enalia and Schwein were both getting to the bar for fresh drinks, the lighting and music changed to Klingon death metal and their eyes met, huge grins spreading across their faces. Without hesitation, they both downed their drinks as fast as they could and raced out to the dance floor to join an already forming mosh pit as the band 'Fires of Gre'thor' crescendoed throughout the dance hall.

In the center of the chaos, banging her head hard and throwing herself into the music with wild abandon, was Dox. The red-headed Romulan was screaming along with the music, singing in Klingon at the top of her lungs as her gravely voice carried. It was clearly a song the Metal-Loving young pilot knew and knew well as she slammed into the fray of bodies in the mosh pit.

On the outskirts, Gavarus looked over at the massive calamity of the pit and then down at O'Dell as she stepped back slightly holding the diminutive test pilot by the hand. "Holy effin' shit, Fee! Uh... Bar?"

"FOOK THAT, I dinna want ta be at the bar when that lot gets OFF the dance floor. Lobby... gigantic bloody palace of a casino's probably got a dozen restaurants and damn near as many bars. Let's go find another fuir a while." Seeeing the worried expression on her porcine partner's jowls, the Bringloidian barfly rolled her eyes and began making her way through the crowd, swimming against the stream of folks headed for the dance floor, insistently tugging the three-fingered calloused mitt of her partner in crime. "Whaaaat, dinna lookit me like that! Look at 'em. Ye think they'll be hard to find in a crowd? Besides, these are amateurs. They'll spend the rest of the night in this one bloody pub... well, niteclub, whativvir. Ye and me'll find somethin' a wee tad more low key, eh mate??"

At that, on the edges of the mosh pit, Loki grinned, a Cheshire cat's grin that bespoke of mischief. With a literal gleam in her eye she leapt into the pit, horns at the ready. The god of mischief prowled through the pit in sinuous motion as a sexy wench, writhing, slithering and worming her way through the melee, practicing avoiding being hit, while bringing others into contact with one another, causing more than one injury.

When the music had changed, Rita Paris hadn't noticed. At the moment she was watching Thex, who just picked up the pace and started dancing more energetically. But Dr. Mah was the first to realize the situation was turning violent, eyes growing wide as she sensed, rather than identified the danger. By the time Enalia and Schwein raced by, the old-fashioned officer began to realize what was happening. Turning to see the violent activity at the center of the dance floor and the ring forming around it, Paris hadn't spent enough time in clubs to recognize a mosh pit. However, she was familiar enough with tribal behavioral patterns to figure out what was happening, and realized the crowd was pressing forward, carrying everyone with it. Had she been alone, she might have taken the ride to see where it was going. But her sapphire-skinned engineer and mother of two was lost in the music, feeling the dance... all meter and two thirds and 60 kilos of her. The El-Aurian physician looked like a rabbit backed into a corner, unsure of exactly which way to go to avoid danger.

A walking mass of Tellarite muscle started stomping his way out onto the dance floor, on a collision course for Hera when a butch bulldyke sideswiped him, knocking him to the side, while shouting something in the din of this particular journey to Gre'thor in the innards of a targ. But it gave Hera ample opportunity to begin gracefully making her way to the bar.

Grabbing the hands of Dr, Mah, and Thex, Paris lowered her head and charged upstream, trying to get out of the building storm, dragging her two friends in her wake. "Time to go, ladies- this isn't our song!"

Thex was so into the music that Rita grabbing her hand slightly startled her. She nodded though as she followed her friend back to the bar. As they emerged from the crowd the feeling of being watched hit the Andorian again. Something was definitely watching her. "Hey, girls just need to visit the faculties, I'll be back in a minute. " She said wanting to get to the bottom of this, but not wanting to worry her friends.

It was about that time that Schwein and Enalia, still stuck in the middle of the mosh pit, noticed that it was a bit more dangerous than it should have been. Instantly, the one-eyed pirate took up a guard stance to protect the Trill woman while Enalia fended off several of the more aggressive types from the rear.

With a nod from Enalia, Schwein grinned wide, and with her bare hands, started yeeting their attackers straight into the inertial dampening safety nets for the very upper balconies around the dance hall, most of them getting stuck in mid-air. As they worked their way out of the crowd, more and more people got smart and parted ways for them.

The matronly goddess Hera, right by Rita's side, couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the flying people. "By my husband's beard. I haven't seen anything that ridiculous in at least an age."

"Travel with the Baroness, it's always a party. I really am going to miss that sassy swashbuckler," Rita replied, calling for a few flagons of ale from the bartender. After all, with replication, there was no such thing as a poorly stocked bar. As the conquering heroines of the dance floor returned, Paris hefted the foaming tankards their way.

Tova was torn between staying at the bar, following Thex since she already knew her face, or handy option number three...pull out the hypo to sober herself up. In her intoxication, she figured at some point Thor himself might come flying on in so she went for a lollipop instead with yet another shot while leaning against the bar. Like all good El-Aurians she knew when to listen and stay put. Drinks we're easily at hand, she was out of the danger zone, and she had a damn lollipop.

In the center of the Mosh pit, with a wild, manic smile on her face, Dox looked up when the snog ended and seamlessly blended into the next. As the screaming wails of Klingon Death Metal transitioned into the thumping bass of slightly more sedate techno house music, the red-headed Romulan pilot looked around. Her hair was a bit more messed up from the chaos of the pit, but she was otherwise, none the worse for wear. She was something of an old pro in such circumstances, having snuck out from her adopted, human Grandparent's farmhouse in rural Ohio to run off to the nearest clubs in Cleveland or Columbus and would work out her restless teenage anger in many a similar pit and Dox found herself lost in that memory, and in the moment, there on Risa for a few minutes. It had felt good.

That feeling faded as she did a very quick status glance of the crowd and rapidly realized that while the dance floor was still packed, her friends and crewmates had all worked their way away from the center of the pit leaving her alone in the chaos. In the din of the club, she muttered an inaudible curse in Romulan, chastising herself before making her way to the bar, "Imirrhlhhse. That's what you get for letting your guard down, Mnhei'sahe."

With a bit of effort, Dox made her way through the crowd towards the bar, hoping that she would find the others there. And as she broke through the shoulder to shoulder dancing, she caught sight of most of the others. Gavarus, O'Dell and Thex weren't there, but she spotted Rita, Hera, Loki, Dr. Mah and Schwein easily enough. And standing near the bar closest to where she had emerged, was Masato Rei.

Looking towards exactly where Dox emerged, the dark woman flashed a warm smile towards her mortal friend, which Dox returned as they walked back over to the group of their friends together.

Because after all, that was what the evening was about- friends.

Tova waved Dox over with a huge smile on her face, "You're back beautiful Dox, another drink?" The doctor was obviously on her way to finally coming out of her shell as she waved her over, lollipop in hand.

Raising an eyebrow with a smirk at the doctor that seemed to be well on her way towards being more than a little drunk, Dox replied as she rejoined the group. "Uh, yeah. Got a little carried away in the pit back there. But no harm done and no need for your services, thankfully. And yes, I could go for a Kali-fal." Dox said, referencing the drink otherwise known as Romulan Ale.

"Excellent, anyone else?" she handed the shot to Dox, had an old school martini in hand and raised it towards the group. "I feel it is time for a toast to the ladies," Tova announced with a sudden rush of alcohol induced bravery, "To the most stunning group of women I have ever stumbled into....may the galaxy bow to your feminine wiles!" She took a drink and held it her chest blushing brightly with a shy smile that met smiles all around in return.

As Riov Rendal looked over the latest block of protomatter data to be decrypted, the frustration deep inside of her grew ever more. It was obvious that whatever agent had been aboard the USS Hera had been somewhat useful... but ultimately, it seemed fruitless. It seemed that all the Intel ship really stored on protomatter was useless lab-based experimentation on crops and animals.

So unless she needed to feed an entire crew from one lehe'jhme fruit or one hlai bird then it was looking like none of the data they were able to retrieve really even mattered to them.

Then another report hit her terminal.

Looking over it, a grin spread across her face. It seemed the analysis of the data from when Mnhei'sahe Dox... Or whatever was inside of her... Freaked out and destroyed the NEC, burning its own data into it, had been finished. They now had a method of creating a new type of singularity. One in which the lab techs estimated was powerful enough to swallow a small moon if needed.

On the flip side, they also estimated that it could be used in place of the normal singularities powering their ships, granting them even greater power. It was a lot to think about.

With a heavy sigh, Rendal glanced at her chronometer, realizing that they were almost to the comm relay deep inside the nebula they'd been hiding in since their ostracization by the senate. She would be reporting in to her master soon and she didn't have the best news. She'd have to review it with the only person she felt she could truly trust. "Rendal to t'Sahe, attend me."

In the gymnasium of Rendal's  Leosa Class Warbird, the Iurret, her loyal Sub Commander,  Arrenhe t'Suil, had a sword in hand and was furiously attacking a holographic opponent when the call came in. With a look of frustration on her face, she called out to the computer. "Computer, freeze program." Composing herself and wiping some sweat from her brow, she looked up and replied. "At once, Riov."

Then, sheathing her sword, she sneered across at her holographic opponent and stepped away to the door to the chamber. "Computer, end program." And as she left, the hologram of Mnhei'sahe Dox vanished.

A few moments later, t'Suil arrived at Riov Rendal's ready room and stood in the doorway at attention. "Reporting as ordered, my Riov. How may I serve you?"

"I require your assistance in compiling the data for our report to him," the royal Riov replied, rifling through several datapads on her desk. "We've decrypted two-thirds of the protomatter data but it seems to be relatively useless to us. The NEC incident data has been compiled and further experimentation is warranted, but I need your expertise to confirm the data."

"Immediately, my Riov." t'Suil nodded, stepping over to collect the datapads as needed and pulling out her own pad to review the collected information from the report that Rendal had just been reading. Taking a moment to look it over, the tall, lean woman with the military trimmed hair cricked an eyebrow. 

Wordlessly, she went to work reviewing the math and checking over the data. It had been months that the analysis team had begun reviewing the almost incalculable amounts of data that had flowed from the captive woman's mind and longer still had been spent in trying to make heads or tails of what was found, but the initial reviews seemed promising. Looking over to her seated commander, t'Suil nodded and replied. "My review concurs with the findings of the research team, Riov. It appears that the data that was collected, though incomplete due to the systems destroyed in the overload, provides the necessary instructions to generate an artificial quantum singularity of heretofore... unknown quantities."

"There are... holes in the data, however. Elements and components missing that may factor in the application of this data." the Sub Commander continued, "And based on my analysis, the Iurret would require more power than our current systems could generate to open this singularity."

"Indeed... We'll need to obtain resources to use ground testing facilities." That meant asking for favors and she did not like those odds at all, especially with dealing with their self-styled 'overlord'. "I must admit a dislike for ostracization. It is... annoying..."

The loss of having Senator Verelan t'Rul no longer under their control, due no doubt, to something that the Dox girl had done, was a loss that still stung. The Senator had betrayed them to the Senate and caused Rendal and her ship to flee from the protection of the Empire for the time being. That was the ostracization Rendal spoke of, but in t'Suil's mind another was more prominent. 

She thought back to when they had the Dox girl and her traitor Grandmother prisoner. She thought of the attention her mistress paid to the red-headed Starfleet officer. In her mind, she could hear her mistress call the girl 'her apprentice', and for the slightest of instances, she paused before she replied. Locked on that word and how it made her feel still.

Her voice nor body language betrayed none of her internal thoughts. "Indeed. Bereft of the resources of the Star Empire makes our work more difficult, but not impossible. There is a ground testing facility controlled by loyal Tal'Shiar Romulans that might serve our needs in the adjoining sector. There are also colony facilities with terraforming technology that we could... co-opt as needed. Colonies out far enough to have little communication with the Empire."

Rendal closed her eyes and centered herself for a moment, thanking the Elements she had t'Suil and a loyal crew. "Thank you. You are truly the most loyal and skilled of apprentices." Then, before they could continue their conversation any further, the comm system on her desk started flashing.

"It is time. Computer, secure the room." As her office went into lockdown, the royal Riov swallowed nervously, stood, and pressed the connection button. The holographics before her shimmered to life, showing a shadowy, immaterial figure rather than a normal person. Unlike her normal haughty attitude, she bowed her head respectfully. "Riov Rendal, reporting in, my Liege."

“You did not report in, I called you,” the distorted voice replied from the muddied holographic image. “Subtle distinctions are where the vast gulf between truth and reality are often found, Captain Rendal. Now, tell me there are positive developments, and that our plans proceed apace?”

Having obviously been taken slightly aback at the correction, Rendal raised her head and picked up a datapad to begin her report. "Yes, my Liege. We have decrypted two-thirds of the Federation protomatter data, and thus far it is only experimentation data on crops, livestock, and minor terraforming projects. It may be of some use in the future, but such developments would take time that we do not have. The odds of the remaining data containing the information for weaponizing protomatter are becoming... slim."

"However, we have finished compiling the Gaia data, and have discovered a way to make a new form of singularity with untold potential for power and destruction. I will forward the data to you now, if it pleases you." With a raised eyebrow, Rendal held up the datapad in question.

"I would verify such a boastful claim myself, indeed," the shadowy garbled figure moved to open a data subchannel to the call, and in doing so revealed some dimension, some shape. And a pointed ear- Rendal was certain of it. When the hologram moved, the distortion did not match it perfectly, and Rendal had been seeking slow but sure confirmation of the identity of her benefactor. This confirmed some of her suspicions, as she unraveled the secret of the power behind her. As the data transmitted, the mysterious power sat back once more.

"How much of the data has been verified, and where are you in testing?" the figure- male, she was reasonably certain now- demanded. It was somehow less imperious than urgent at times, she realized. Always in a hurry to get things done.

"As we have lost many of our connections with the Senate and High Command, we no longer have the resources we once had. However, we plan on beginning testing within the week, granted we are able to secure the facilities. We only just now finished with the data." With a bow of her head, Rendal did her best to stifle a grimace. "If you have any resources you are able to divert to the cause..."

"I thought you to be a woman of ambition, Captain Rendal. The royal blood that courses through your veins does not cry out for revenge on those who wronged you? Have you not kept track of your enemies?" As he delivered the dressing down, the shadowy figure paused, then turned slight, gesturing with a wave of his arm. "Where is YOUR research facility?"

At the reminder of her ignoble defeat at the hands of those Federation sows and how they just handed her entire station over to the Asgardians, the Riov clenched one fist and twisted her face in rage, her bowed head lowering a bit further. "I will retrieve it, my Liege. I will retrieve it, AND have my vengeance upon those who wronged me!"

With great willpower, she ceased her trembling rage and calmed herself. "But first, we must continue our work without it... and plan carefully, one step at a time."

"I will review your data to confirm your findings. If you have need of exotic materials, send word to me and I will see what can be done. In the meanwhile, plot your revenge with the care you take in cutting your hair," the shadowy figure offered as the transmission faded. It was a very old Romulan proverb, as old perhaps as Romulus herself.

"I already am..." Rendal muttered after the transmission ended and the last flickers of the holographics faded away. "t'Suil, we have more planning to do and less time to do it in. I assume we still have contact with our warbird monitoring those that stole my starbase?" As she asked, she tapped at the datapad with the readouts of the new singularity and projected drive characteristics. "If so, we're going to steal it back as soon as we get a chance."

"We do, my Riov." t'Suil said with a light bow and a stern expression pondering all she had just heard before commenting. "That proverb. Were those not the words of T'Rehu, the Ruling Queen. The woman who first brought Romulus under one rule and put an end to our last connections to Old Vulcan?"

"Indeed they were, my friend. Which solidifies my theory further that he is a descendant of that noble lineage, rumored to have been living in exile all these years..." Rendal then pulled up the subspace transmission logs. "Right in the area that these transmissions originate from. For now though, we have our own plans we must see to fruition."

Looking at the screen, t'Suil's nodded to her commander. "Indeed, Riov. Shall I contact our allies for ground testing?"

"Yes please. It is time we started things moving in our favor." An unpleasant grin spread across the royal Riov's face and she could feel laughter boiling up inside of her for the first time in ages. "After all, our enemies are not waiting for us."

As they were departing the casino, O'Dell had to hit the reclamator, as she often did. Even taking in as small an amount of alcohol as she did, her tiny bladder was often hyperactive once she broke the seal. And tonight was getting started early. Once they were in the reclamator, all that orange juice was doing a number of Gavarus' four stomachs, and she was relieving herself while O'Dell washed her hands and freshened up. Which was when a striking sapphire-skinned young woman passed behind her, who the Mariposian midget knew to be the chief engineer, Thex sh'Zoarhi. As she stepped into a stall, O'Dell wondered at who let the girl go to the loo alone from the main group. No buddy system, no going to the loo in packs.

Shaking her head and clucking her disapproval, O'Dell floofed up her hair a bit as a Nausicaan stepped into the reclamator. While the tiny test pilot wasn't fully certain about Nausicaan gender presentation, the individual appeared distinctly masculine to her eye. But what was genuinely odd to her was that he was wearing the same Earth-style black slacks and jacket, with a white collared shirt and a slender black tie.

"Beggin yuir pardon but ye sure yuir in the right one, m'friend?" O'Dell said to the brute, who scanned the sinks before moving in to start peering over the stalls.

Looking down at Gavarus on her reclimator, the massive Nausicaan grunted and moved to the next stall as the portly porcine let out a shout, "Dude!?!... the F***!?"

"Hey! Knock that off, ye masher! Fook off, ye pervert, or the arse kickin' ye'll get will be known by yuir grandkids!" the little lass barked out, a chihuahua snapping at the heels of a Doberman. but it did alert her shipmates to the situation, even as O'Dell began rolling up her sleeves to get down to the business of teaching the mercenary a lesson.

As the Nausicaan stopped outside of the stall Thex had gone into the door burst open clobbering the Nausicaan in the face and sending him reeling back. The Andorian burst out having been waiting for whoever had been clearly following her. The Nausicaan had only been stunned for a second and with a scream from it's kind, it charged at the Andorian who began defending herself with her chimera style of fighting.

Clutching her pants and yanking them back up, Briaar ran out of the stall, a streamer of toilet paper trailing from one of her hooves as she took in the sight and let out a squeal of a scream. "SQWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Recognizing the danger and opening her stall door, Thex emerged behind the peeping Nausicaan. As she was behind her attacker. she began furiously hitting her assailant in as many places of it's back that looked vulnerable places. Sadly the Nausicaan's hind was as thick as his skull bone and he barely seemed to notice as he tried to pull Thex off him. Moving like her body was made from water she wrapped around and leapt off as he tried ramming her against the wall. The wall crumbled and tiles broke and cracked as it let out a groan, made worse when Thex brought her foot round, and kicked it so hard two of its sharp pointy teeth flew across the room to land in a sink with a clatter.

"Stay behind me Briaar," Thex yelled, as the Nausicaan readied himself for another attack, spitting a huge glob of spit and blood to the floor.

"Me arse!" O'Dell scrambled around the mercenary, latching herself bodily around the tall toothsome besuited thug's knees, throwing him off-balance. "Get him, girls!"

Glancing around slightly, Gavarus picked up the rather large, cylindrical metal trash receptacle and, as she was tall enough to do so, swang it clear over Thex's head and smashed it against the top of the Nausicaan's head, yelling all the while. "AAAAHHHHHH!!!!" The hit only elicited an annoyed grunt from the massive brute before it looked away from the Tellarite back to the target of its attention.

Thex didn't wait and charged him hitting the attacker straight in the face in the face knocking out another one of his teeth. One of the blows must have hit something as the Nausicaan let out a wheeze as it fell to the floor on its hands wheezing. Not wasting a moment Thex grabbed his arms and neck as she put him into a tight grip. " Why are you following me?" She yelled loudly.

"You're... Vlidal Nog, the heiress, daughter of Glidal Nog, the media tycoon. You're here on vacation with your mother, and the Syndicate put out a hit on you... real specific rules. Gotta be wearing this stupid black suit, gotta be a confirmed kill, and as a bonus the Syndicate is gonna eliminate the evidence afterward. Didn't figure you'd be so tough..." the Nausicaan grunted as Thex tightened the chokehold, turning it into a sleeper hold.

As the massive alien in the fitted black suit's eyes rolled into the back of its head, passing out, the twitchy Tellariate spoke again. "Uh... Vlidal Nog? Who the frickin' hell is Vlidal Nog?"

"Uh... are you Vlidal Nog, chief?" A positively perplexed Gavarus said, still holding the bent trash receptacle over her head like a cudgel ready to swing again if the Nausicaan should awaken. 

"No, I'm not Vlidal Nog," Thex said, letting out what a sigh and a laugh would sound like as she tightened her sleeper hold until the thug was unconscious. Going through his pockets she found a padd and a disrupter. She was partly relieved they'd not been after her, but now as Starfleet officers, they had a job to do. Looking to her two companions she began ripping the thug's suit to tie him up. "Well, looks like we have to get Risa security, and fast. Don't know why the syndicate wants this girl, but we have to stop them."

"Well, I dunno. We're on a weird-ass ship. It wasn't THAT unreasonable to imagine you might be a secret... whatever he said... heiress." Gavarus said, putting the trash can back down and finally noticed that her pants were still unbuttoned from when she came rushing out of the bathroom. "Ahh, crap. Let me... okay, suck it in, Briaar!"

*ZIPPPP!*

"Why do you think he had ta' wear a black suit like ours, Fee?" Briaar said, taking a breath after successfully zipping her pants back up.

"If Ah hadda take a guess, it's either a cultural thing," O'Dell started, as Thex shook her head to the negative. "Or it's a mobster thing. Ye might or might not recall the race, but if they're all wearing plain black suits, that makes a distracting detail they would be most of what witnesses would identify. Noow, as far as Risa security..." O'Dell began before she launched herself at Thex. tackling the slightly larger woman onto the tile floor of the restroom, even as the twinkling effect of a transporter took hold and slowly transported the Nausicaan away. Lying atop the blue-skinned engineer. the tiny test pilot apologized.

"Sorry LC... I saw it startin' and I dinna think ye wanted to go for that ride," O'Dell explained as she scrambled to her feet and offered a hand up to the sapphire-skinned sprite. "But it looks like our one witness joost got 'cleaned oop'. D'ye think this is what the Syndicate meant by 'eliminating the evidence afterward'?"

Scrunching her face slightly, Gavarus looked at the spot where the Nausiccan had just been. "Wait? You think he got beamed to... nowhere? Pattern dropped, mid beam? That means we got nothing to show security."

"Just get off me, please- your foot's on my hand!" Thex winced as she stood up. "Did someone see what happened to his padd?"

"Shit! Sorry, chief." Gavarus said, stepping back. "Padd? Shit, yeah. Right. Uh... I think... hold on." Briaar knelt down, looking under the stalls.

"Yeah. Slid under here when Fee tackled you offa that ass. Here it is." The towering Tellarite said as she handed the padd to Thex.

"Alreet, so there's gangsters... well, killers fer hire, guess that makes 'em assassins... dressed like mobsters... in the hotel because there's an Andorian media heiress and her daughter here, who they've come to kill the both of them. So me first question is, cuo bono? Who profits? If somebody wants these two blue babes in Vegas dead, why? Who benefits? Is it a revenge thing from a business rival or someone else who stands to inherit?" Pausing to look at the other two, who were both looking at her with surprised incredulity, O'Dell shrugged broadly.

"What? Bein' a test pilot is like bein a detective. Ye got to figure oot what's goin wrong, why, and how ye kin compensate til ye can git 'er repaired or redesigned. These women are in trouble, and if we want innyone to take us seriously and help, we need to know what's goin' on and figger oot how ta fix it, aye?" The picayune pilot peered at the pair of them, pleading.

Giving her pint-sized partner a knowing smirk of appreciation, Briar started thinking. The two, after all, stayed assigned together in the R&D department for good reasons, not the least of which being that they were good at solving problems together. She stroked her slightly stubbly chin for a moment while Thex looked over the PaDD. After a second of thinking about what Fiona had said, the portly porcine pointed her chubby finger. "Okay... we should be able to figure out who the media heiress is easy enough. We can just patch into the security net with any old PaDD and a little decrypting if we have to. That's no biggie. And from there if we... wait."

Snapping her thick, three fingers, Gavarus looked excited. "Assface said he HAD to wear a suit like ours. I bet that's how the bad guys identified themselves. Like... like one of those old holovid crime stories where the crew is assembled without ever having met or something. Sooooo, we know how to spot the other baddies. They'll be... well... they'll be dressed like us!"

“Well, that does give us a wee advantage, now dunnit?” O’Dell replied, straightening her tie. “Because if they don’t know one another, that means we can pass as one’a them. Which we could use… alreet, that’s as far as I got with it. But seems there’s some advantage, aye?”

A grin did form over Thex face as a plan did start to form in her head. " We do have another advantage. If the thug thinks I look like Vlidal Nog maybe the rest of them would. If they think they're getting some spoiled Andorian rich kid and not an Andorian with access to an indestructible it would be one hell of a shock for them."

"So, we can pretend to be bringing you in?" Gavarus asked, working the details out in her head. "And what about the PaDD? And useful data? Drop off info or anything?"

"Give me a second." Thex said. It was harder to hack this thing without her tools and programs, but she almost had it... " Ah, there we go. Wait this guy's password was 'password'? Who hired these guys?" She said bewildered at the thug's lack of security. " Now let's see. Only a few things on her. Geez, that is creepy... she does look like me." Thex said, turning the padd so they could see. The image could have been of Thex, only with considerably more layers of makeup. "Now let's see. Ah, take the package to room 606 for delivery. "

“Alreet… so we have a location, and we have a plot, so now, to make alla this work, we need less of a plan, and more of a… scheme, really,” O’Dell observed wringing her hands like a criminal mastermind. “So with that in mind…”

---------

The unlikely duo walked into the classy upscale lounge, casing the joint like they owned it. Dark suits and dark sunglasses made the odd couple blend in, for a change, as they entered the sumptuous lounge. A maitre'd approached, fawning obsequiously.

"Welcome to the Petrossian, sentients. Would you care to indulge in a splendid evening with live music from the one-of-a-kind Steinway grand," the slender humanoid with the pencil mustache indicated the soft tones of the pianist on duty. "Or relax on one of the velvet couches that overlook the casino? They seem to be quite popular this evening," As the host gestured, the couches overlooking the casino floors were indeed crowded with drinking and smoking humanoids of varying races, sizes, and persuasions, all with one commonality- a penchant for binary fashion.

"As you can see," the maitre'D continued, "the elegant Petrossian gently sets the mood for sophisticated tastes and discerning palates. There is so much to experience at Petrossian Lounge: the house-made infused cocktails, the vodka samplers, premium cigars, smoked salmon and caviar. An epicurean's delight, we think you'll find the Petrossian Bar is the ultimate respite for enjoying the finer things in life." At that, the Maitre'D paused, eyeing the midget and the giant pig in suits.

"What would be your pleasure?"

Five minutes later, a cigar in one hand, a tray of salmon and caviar arriving at the table, Gavarus and O'Dell were just finishing their first infused cocktail.

"Damn, I could get used to this shit." Trying to cross her leg, failing and then trying again, Briaar grabbed the hem of her pant leg and yanked her hoof up over a knee. All the while, keeping as straight a face as was possible, the portly porcine took a sip of her cocktail and used the action to cover her mouth slightly as she spoke. "SOOO... you think someone's gonna come t' us or do we gotta brag about having the 'heiress'?"

“I’m thinkin a wee bit o’braggin is in order,” O’Dell muttered, counting on her porcine partner’s sensitive hearing to pick up on what she was saying, and her familiarity with Fiona’s brogue to understand what she was saying as she muttered. “These are hard men… and women… and we’ve nae reputation amongst this crowd. So the idea is, we need to choose the right mark- big enough to be useful, dumb enough to fall fer our bullshite, and talkative enough to tell us what we want to know without getting too suspicious…. Howboot that ape at the bar?”

Glancing over, there was indeed a gorilla- a white-furred gorilla, no less, with a pair of horns protruding from it’s head and forehead, dressed in an ill-fitting black suit, with tufts of fur sticking out of its collar, sleeves and pants cuffs. He was standing at the bar, and seemed already to be three sheets to the wind.

Letting out a long, deep sign, Gavarus looked over the top of her black shades at the white-furred simian at the bar. "Is that a... the hell? In a thousand lifetimes, I never thought I'd see a frickin' Mugato in a suit." The tubby Tellarite muttered as she shook her head lightly. 

"Okay. L... l... let's twist this." Gavarus said, working up her courage, while still letting out a stutter as she hoisted herself off of her chair.

“Aye!” Hopping nimbly out of her chair, the short stunt pilot made her way to the bar, stepping back for passing traffic of more black-suited aliens, this time a rough-looking Romulan and a surprisingly aged Klingon with a mane of kinky white hair that was sparse, yet pulled into a braided ponytail. Letting them pass, the picayune pilot scrambled up onto the barstool next to the big ape in a suit, noting his drink choice and settling in beside him>

That was when the white-furred and horned ape noticed her, doing a double-take at the midget in a suit. Looking at his drink, then back to O’Dell, the gorilla’s eyes widened. “R’yew a figment ‘a my imagination?”

Looking up at the Mugatu with a fearlessness born of a few drams of alcohol in her system, Fiona O’Dell eyed the massive mammal. “O’course not. Have ye nivvir heard’a the Midget and the Pig?”

Looking over Fiona, then realizing Gavarus was behind her, the big blue eyes of the fabled horned gorilla widened. “Ah, sure, sure, yeah, I heard’a ya. You two did the Karrg job, right?”

Having no idea what a 'Karrg job' was, Gavarus improvised on the spot, taking a long drag of her cigar and hoping she wouldn't hack up a lung trying to look cool and desperately trying to not stutter. "M... Maybe we did... *kaff* Maybe we didn't. We do all kinds of jobs, but we pride ourselves on our... professionalism."

Leaning over the bar a little too casually, her elbow slipping slightly as she put her weight on it, Gavarus held up two fingers to the bartender and gave a knowing head nod before turning back to the massive Mugato. "Jobs like tonight's, right... uh... Midge?"

Before the diminutive daredevil could reply, the big ape was already on a roll. “Yeah! This is some scrogged up feces, this job. What, like a hundred of us all here? And for what, one little-“ he paused, not drunk enough to realize the volume of his voice, as he lowered it to a conspiratorial whisper. “One Andorian broad and her daughter? These stupid suits, and that whole ‘report it to the room when you have confirmation’. It’s crap! I dunno who’s paying for this circus, but with all this competition in the field, none of us are gonna get paid, y’know?”

As the big ape took another sip of his drink, Fiona took her gamble. “Look, Mu- can Ah call ye Mu?”

“Call me Pancracio,” the big ape muttered.

“Pancracio, sure. So… what if we was to tell ye that we’ve an in on this already, and we’ve half the job done. But with alla this competition aboot, s’a bit hard to get a ‘package’ to Room 606, ye catch me drift?” O’Dell signaled the bartender to pour the big ape another drink, and made it a double as he downed the contents of his current cocktail. “After all, she’s the muscle, but there’s a lotta muscle about, y’ken?”

As the bartender delivered Briaar's refreshed double drink, she slammed it back hard to take the edge off and hopefully drown her stutter with another dose of liquid courage. And it seemed to be having the desired effect as she felt herself get just a bit looser in her skin that was starting to feel a size too small. Leaning over the top of Fiona, the tipsy Tellarite lowered her sunglasses slightly and smirked a slightly toothy grin that showed off her mostly filed down tusks. "An' some'a this muscle might try squeezing in where it ain't wanted. But... for someone who's smart enough t' make friends, there's enough to go around."

Taking another swig, Gavarus let her implication hopefully sink in to the Mugato's thick cranium. But as she looked back over, the white ape was staring at her as if she had spoken in Vulcan to him, so she doubled down. "Do... uh... do you know anyone here that's... smart? Someone who'd like to make some latinum?" 

"Hey, I'm smart." The Mugato exclaimed with a smile that proved that he was anything but. "What kinda latinum are we talkin' about?"

"The way we see it, this job is offering a lot when most of the work is gonna be in getting what we already have in the bag to where it's gotta go." Gavarus said in a conspiratorial whisper, hoping she wasn't screwing the plan up too badly. "And most of these idiots in here will try to nose in trying to get a bigger piece of the pie for themselves. But that's shit math. An' see, they... uh... they call me the ENGINEER, 'cuz I know math. And we both know how to work the angles. We get someone who can help us get to room 606. Help deal with the other muscle in our way, and that person has made two very generous friends."

The portly porcine was flying blind, saying the words before she knew she had thought them out, and swallowed as she realized just how closely the slightly leering Mugato was listening. Pursing her lips slightly, she kept going. "You... want to be our friend, don't you Pan... cake... io?"

Immediately, the Mugato's slightly lustful expression shifted to one of confusion as he irritatedly corrected Gavarus' flub over his name. "It's PanCRACio!"

Swallowing her suddenly dry throat, Briaar leaned in slightly and course-corrected as quickly as she could. "Yeah, I... I know. But pancakes are... tastier. And we work hard, and hard work makes a piggy hungry." Glancing down, there was a bit of panic in her eyes as she shot a glance to Fiona that said 'HELP!'

"Look, mate... I toldye, she's the muscle," O'Dell parked his freshly delivered drink to the big hairy ape, motioning to the bartender, "Oi, a round 'a bitters, aye? Thanks luv. Anyhow, look- ye get the gist, aye? We're smart and we're good, but wi' only two of us, we might make it oop there, but likely we'd have DNA evidence left, and I heard ye get more for alive than dead, aye?"

"I didn't hear anything about that. I thought it was just a pair of hits," the gorilla grumbled, as O'Dell shrugged.

"Talk to yuir agent, m'friend. Cheers!" Raising her martini glass, O'Dell saluted the Mugatu, then made as if to down her drink, which the white ape and the space swine both followed suit, downing their drinks. Fiona faked hers- downing an entire one of these was liable to put her in a coma, and she's need her buzzed wits about her to stay on course in these murky waters. "Either way, that's our plan, and our dilemma. Ye think ye might cut in for 30%?"

"Forty."

"Thirty-one."

"Forty-two."

"Thirty-two."

"Forty-five."

"Thirty-three- equal shares, and the spare share I'll cede to ye, assumin yuir as good as ye look and we succeed, aye?" the three beers arrived, and O'Dell hoisted hers. "Have we a deal, ye great hairy bastard?"

"Oh, I'm BETTER then I look, Midget. And when we're done, maybe I'll get a chance to show your muscle there just how good." Pancracio grinned and waggled his thick brow over to Gavarus who had to pretend to not be throwing up in her mouth just a little at the thought of the implication. Then the white-furred hit-monkey got serious and looked down at O'Dell with a pout. "It's a deal. What's th' plan?"


“Oh, yuir g’win ta LOVE this plan…” the Mariposian midget replied with a wide grin.

To Be Continued...

Ten minutes later, an unusual quartet made their way across the casino floor. In the lead was a gorilla in a suit- one of the fabled white apes of Neuron, a Mugato, who walked and kept a sharp eye out like a higher intelligence sentience than was conventionally attributed to the species. Behind him was a redheaded humanoid midget, a frail toothpick of a being whose only remarkable feature was a large unruly mop of crimson curls. Beside her, being gripped firmly by both arms, was a young Andorian woman, who moved as if drugged as she shuffled along, clearly being supported by the bookends in suits.

The other bookend in question was a tall Tellarite, whose mass was perched on two rather delicate hooves, who, like the other two sinister suited members of the group, was looking around behind her sunglasses, making it obvious that they would not be caught by surprise. While they attracted their share of attention from similarly-clad casino patrons, no one got in their way. A number of black-suited individuals consulted their data devices, eyes flickering up to Thex then back to the device. While a number of those similarly-clad patrons began leaving their seats, no one particularly make a move against them. Primarily due to the presence of said exotic alien ape, who looked thoroughly capable of ripping the arms off anyone even relatively close to his size. Of which there were very few such sentients in attendance.

Doing her level best to look badass and support the partial weight of the lithe Andorian who was wobbling along between them, the Porcine blonde in black said, in a gruff and demanding voice, "C'mon, girl. You got an appointment to keep. You don't wanna keep our clients waiting."

Thex had taken a few drinks and was doing her best impersonation of being a high and highly drunk spoiled andorian. " Don't.... wannn.." She said with an extra slur added to her voice before giving a belch to aid in the effect.

Arriving at the elevator unmolested, the big ape in a suit pressed the button, as Gavarus and O'Dell glanced behind them, only to see a number of various humanoid life forms in black suits and ties with white shirts getting up, turning toward them, and following them. Not unlike a school of piranha beginning to form up, all pointed toward their prey.

Eyes meeting over their glasses, the two gulped as the elevator dinged, and a family of tourists disembarked.

Including a slender, lithe Andorian girl and what looked like her older sister.

As their eyes met, Thex noted the young woman really did bear quite a striking resemblance to her.

In a very long second, Fiona O'Dell saw the Andorian women, guessed that this was likely not only the heiress and her daughter, but that they were walking into a feeding frenzy they had started behind them. Abandoning Thex, O'Dell scooted forward to grab both Andorian women's hands. "Ti'sn't yuir floor, ladies, in ye go!"

Tugging insistently at the women, O'Dell was about to bark a call for help when the tubby Tellarite shoved into both women, scattering their balance and allowing them to be dragged into the elevator. Which might have been fine save for the great horned white ape in a black suit that shoved his way onto the elevator as well, eyes darting between the three women.

"Well, no plan survives contact with the enemy," Thex said with a smirk before landing her elbow hard into the face of the Mugato, before bringing her fist round square into the white ape's face. As it started screaming, Thex kept up the assault hitting the ape in as many delicate places as she could trying to stop the ape from getting a chance to fighting back.

"HEY!!! GURRRGK!!!" The Mugato blurted out as Thex continued her surgical assault. "CUT THE SHIT, BLUEBERRY!! AAAGH!"

"Holy F***! Is EVERYONE else on the ship some kind of frickin' ninja?! First Commander Murderpunch, now her! Damn!" Gavarus yelled, as she grabbed Fiona and pushed her into the corner in front of the two intended Andorian targets, putting her own thick hide between them and the fight

Thex kept up the barrage of blows going for every weak point, a nerve cluster and the weak point she could think of. Her body flowed like the water around the big brute, and despite the small space, he was unable to maneuver, barley landing any blows on her. Still, she needed to take the brute down so with a swift move pulled the hypospray tucked into her back that she jammed hard into his neck. With a thud the brute fell with a clatter to the floor before it began to snore very loudly.

"Well that could have gone better, but like I said, no plan survives contact with the enemy," Thex said, wiping a smudge from her mouth before she turned to the two other Andorians. This was creepy as hell. It was like she was looking into a mirror. " Vlidal Nog, are you alright. I'm Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi- we're Starfleet."

"I... uh... uh..." It would appear that both women were in shock, alarmed by their sudden kidnapping by a midget and a pig, only to watch a doppelganger beat a giant white ape within an inch of its life. As they stammered and clutched one another, the elevator doors opened onto the sixth floor, where a collection of four more black-suited individuals turned at the sound of the elevator's arrival.

Looking out the open lift doors, Briaar stared for a full second and looked down at the snoring Mugato. Then, with a harsh grunt, buried her hoof with a deep kick to the white-furred brute's gut. "And THAT'S what you get for tryin' to pinch OUR frickin' BOUNTY, ya' overgrown horny Tribble lookin' bastard ass!"

Then, the tall Tellarite looked up, adjusted her tie, and scoffed. "Anyone else planning on seein' if pigs fly? Or are we gonna make our dropoff without further... incident?"

One of the four sentients at the door, a lean and tall Rigellian with coal-black eyes and a shaved head raised a brow and looked at the assemblage in the lift. "The contract was for Nog and her mother. Who is this... other... antenna head?"

The diminutive O'Dell took advantage of Gavarus' distraction to hurriedly whisper to the two terrified Andorian women, then she stepped on the big ape-like a besuited carpet and strode out, hands in pockets, looking to all the world thoroughly unconcerned about any danger they might be in presently. "Ye nivvir heard'a 'Double Trouble', the famous assassin who can disguise herself as innyone? Ye got to keep up, laddybuck. Now howboout ye get the fook oot of our way before somethin' unpleasant happens to ye as well, aye?"

Standing there, not even a meter and a half in height and weighing less that one of her partner's toolbags, looking up at the four black-suited assassins, O'Dell wished her blood alcohol level was higher to bolster her courage. But it was her cockamamie plan they were following, and she had to play this cool. Their lives were counting on this plan, as well as the lives of the heiress and her daughter. Thex as well, of course, although she seemed perfectly capable of taking care of herself, it seemed. This had to work- which meant she and Gavarus had to sell it. "G'wan, pessoaf before we hafta make an example oota ye too, aye?"

The tall Rigellian's eyes narrowed as he looked the assemblage up and stepped slightly back. Breathing the slightest sigh of relief, Gavarus was exceedingly happy to be wearing dark black sunglasses as she kept her sphincter clenched as her stomachs were so tense she was terrified that her anxiety would leak out her ass. Instead, she slapped Thex in the arm a bit harder than was necessary and blurted out, "C'mon... uh... Double Trouble. Grab the cargo and let's get a move on."

As she reached back to collect the two women, Thex whispered to them in Andorian, explaining the situation in brief and letting the two civilians know that the situation was under control, and that the Starfleet officers would protect them. Which she fervently hoped was the case- when she had agreed to this far-fetched plan from the two oddball officers of R&D. she had agreed to endanger herself, not civilians. but they were here now, and safer under their care than left to their own devices in the lobby full of black-suited assassins all eager to collect the bounty. Even as they now approached the lion's den- room 606.

There was no guard on the door, and nothing obvious nor sinister about it, which just made it somehow more ominous. Glancing at one another, O'Dell nodded to Gavarus to knock- after all, she could be seen in the peephole, and the burly Tellarite would look far more intimidating staring back through the simple lens of the peephole in the hotel room door.

Clearing her throat, Gavarus grabbed the lapels of her jacket and gave it a tug and running her hands down it to make sure the small disruptor that she had in her breast pocket was still there. Glancing down to O'Dell, the portly porcine whispered to bolster herself up. "Okay... probably won't get too killed tonight. Not with Samurai Smurfette with us. We got this shit. We're Starfleet."

Putting one hand on her hip, the black-clad faux-assassin rapped casually on the door with her thick, three-fingered hand and waited, looking impatient and hoping it was convincing.

Looking at the bottom of the door, O'Dell was doing a mental headcount of the shadows she saw along the crack as they could hear shuffling on the other side for a long moment. Flashing four fingers up so Briaar and Gavarus could see, O'Dell gave a nod and the three officers made sure their game faces were on as the door opened.

Thex gave a reassuring squeeze to the Andorian who could have been her minus ten years as the door crept open. Standing behind the door was a massive Orion male, with muscles that looked like solid steel. "I," he said in a simple drone-like voice as he stood aside. The hotel room had been stripped, and the only thing in it was a mobile transporter padd and a single chair.

"Get on," the Orion said pointing to the transporter padd.

"Not on your fookin' life, pally," O'Dell responded. "Yuir boss wants to collect the packages, they kin come to us joost as easy. We're nae settin foot on that thing, and wqe're not gettin' beamed innywhere. Your boss can come to us, or we've nae deal at all." While her voice was clear and confident, O'Dell was bluffing from one end to the other, and if this went south they were now in an even more dangerous situation, now with the added complication of the actual civilians to protect. Internally her mind raced, trying to overcome the panic that was setting in. Joost like when a test flight goes teats oop, ye canna lose yuir cool noow, Fiona. Alla these people's lives are on the line here, so fly yuir way oota this, ye wee knucklehead...

The tall, imposing Orion male narrowed his gaze and looked down at O'Dell as he cricked his head to the side. Taking a single step forward, Gavarus stepped up without thinking and tilted her head down to meet his eyes as she looked over her glasses. Before she knew it, the words were falling out of her mouth without even thinking as she saw him step towards her partner and love.

Looking slightly down, she desperately hoped that in spite of being crap in a fight, that being two meters tall would be more intimidating than she thought she was as she spoke, "Was she unclear? It's a simple request for a business transaction to remain on the up and up, right? We're here. Your boss can come here to meet with us. Otherwise, there's an entire hotel worth of people willing to pay for what we have just on spec."

Behind them at the door, there were three other large and imposing figures that all looked ready to pounce as Gavarus pushed the glasses back up the bridge of her snout. And in doing so, activated the heads-up display built into them with the same Tri-Corder functions as the helmets of the Hera's EVA armor. Another precaution she was glad Fiona had thought for them to have for the night. Looking, she could see the Breen-style disruptor in the pockets of the men and she could also see the control panel of the transport pad.

With eye movement-based controls in the glasses, she began doing what she was FAR better at than being a fake thug: an engineer.

The Orion thug blinked a few times. as if his brain was having trouble understanding the request. A few ideas were running through Thex's head, however. Male Orion slaves were often drugged to lower their intelligence and made more obedient.

"My companions which to negotiate with the Utan," Thex said, hoping her Orion pronunciation was up to scratch. That did seem to penetrate the Orion meat slab's thick skull, as he walked over to the transporter controls and pressed a few buttons. "Etadubran, the Dubyal's which to negotiate over the goods."

A sound that was clearly Orion swear words came over the transporter, before it hummed into life. Two heavily armed thugs wearing full battle gear stepped through, before they took flanking positions at the side of the transporter. It glowed into life again as another individual stepped through. A rather young Orion woman stepped off the pad, dressed in the garb that had become a stereotype of her people, with a look of utter anger on her face. Flanking her were two Orion animal women who adopted another flanking position.

"What the hell is wrong with you lot? The package was supposed to be delivered to my ship!" The clear head of this operation yelled.

"Aye, twas indeed," O'Dell agreed, stepping forward slightly as she watched what was happening in her sunglasses, which emboldened her considerably. "But changes of plans happen, ye should know that. So, as of course 'no questions asked' is the usual way of these things, we're curious- why alla this? A lobby full of assassins, a transporter hidden with a carrier signal that the Risan authorities won't pick up on, a cloaked ship in orbit... it's a lot of trouble to go to for joost one Andorian lass and her mum. So tell us why. Who's the bankroll here? Why alla this big show joost over two wee blue gals?"

The Orion woman's face changed to a look of annoyance, as if the answer to O'Dell's question was the most obvious thing in the universe. "Gee, I know mother hires idiots, but are you really this stupid? Why would I want one of the most influential celebrities in the Federation in my pocket? When I break her little girl and make her into my own personal slave, I'll have complete control of her, her assets and her empire," She explained, her voice dripping with content. "And mother said I'd never accomplish anything..."

Great, Thex thought to herself. We have the brat off one of the upper ranks of the Orion syndicate out to impress the mother with a scheme right out of a cheesy holo program. Oh, and she'd just blabbed her plan to a room of total strangers. Even one of the animal women appeared to be rolling her eyes at that. Thex couldn't be sure, but she thought the face looked familiar.

The Orion woman's face then only seemed to notice Thex was in the room. A predatory grin formed on her face as she walked over to the engineer. "Oh, now you're a pretty one. Ever considered a more permanent work in the syndicate? I bet you'd look great in a dancing outfit."

Great, add an Andorian fetish to the list. of charges "No thanks, I have two right feet." Thex said silently, giving the hand signal to her crewmates to prepare for combat as she asked the Orion bratling, "Now do you have our payment?"

"Yeah," Gavarus added with a sneer. "Navigating all the rubes you had down there made our job all the more difficult, and we'd like to get paid. And what about me? I can dance up a..."

But as she spoke, suddenly she felt a loud, thumping coming towards them from the corridor getting closer. Then, the heads in the room all turned as the white-furred Mugato, Pancracio, slammed his massive body through the door, roaring and using the guards from the end of the turbolift as clubs. "LYIN', CHEATIN' SPACE PIG!!! YOU N' YER MIDGET OWE ME MY CUT!!!"

"Oh, for F***'s sake, REALLY??" Gavarus said as she pulled Fiona and the Andorian hostages away from the rampaging brute.

"Alreet, inny time noow would be good, aye?" Fiona muttered into the comms, and as she did so, a dozen spots ion the room suddenly sparkled to live, materializing as armored Risan security forces with their weapons leveled at everyone in the room.

"Your weapons have been deactivated, your starship is currently being boarded and your transporter has been rendered inoperational. You are under arrest. Stand down-" they managed to get out before the enraged Mugato slammed one of the security officers through a wall, and bedlam broke loose.

"Well, here we go again. Protect!" Thex yelled at the top of her lungs, as the light surrounded her forming the Armor of Achilles around her nimble frame. As the heads up display formed on her helmet, she charged at the Mugato, screaming an Andorian battle cry at the top of her lungs. She paused only to yeet one of the Orion's armed goons straight at the monster. The surprised hireling let out a cry as the armored Orion smashed into him, right before Thex jumped and smashed a blow right into its face.

"GYAAAGH!!!" The Mugato yelled as it stumbled back in pain. As it flailed, falling to the floor, it accidentally took out two of the Orion guards that were trying to get out of its way.

In the chaos, the Orion woman ran back to the transport platform and began leaping up and down on it like a petulant child! "Work, dammit! Beam me back and get me out of here or I'll have every one of you killed!!!" But, true to the security team's word, and thanks to Gavarus' scans with her sunglasses, the transporter pad was completely deactivated. But still, the angry wannabe criminal mastermind screeched at her personal guard! "Kill them! Kill all of them!!!"

Casually, as if she'd had all the time in the world, O'Dell drew the small, innocuous-looking type 1 phaser she'd had in her pocket this entire time, and shot the irate would-be kidnapper with a stun beam that would knock her out for hours. In the chaos, it was the only clear shot she4 had, but with the boss out of commission, the thugs would be easy to take out. Even as she considered it, Thex was busily mopping up the last of the hired hands, as their disruptor bolts glance off her invincible armor.

Turning to regard the two frightened Andorian women, O'Dell beamed a smile up at them. "There ye go mum, safe as houses. Ye'll need to give a statement to Risa security I'm sure, and who's behind alla this and what it may foretold, we'll leave to the proper detectives to sort oot. The Lieutenant Commander there in the magic armor suit is in charge, and she'll see to ye both. As for us, if ye need us, we'll be doownstairs at the bar, aye?"

Standing behind her pint-sized partner, Gavarus adjusted her tie and tucked her shirt back into her slacks and gave a somewhat satisfied smirk as she nodded along with O'Dell. Then, shooting a salute to Thex and the security team, the tired Tellarite gave the Mariposian midget a fist bump. "Damn skippy. That was some top-flight Starfleet hero shit. Now it's time to get grade-A drunk off our asses for our effort. Let's get our drunk on, Fee!"

"Bluiddy Starfleet heroes we are, y'damn right. We deserve a raise, at's wot we deserve. Cuz what bluiddy good is a medal, aye? Somethin yuir great great grandkid can write a report aboot a hundred years after yuir dead?" As she put the thought out there into the universe, both immediately had the thought of their great great grandchild, as improbable as their child, giving a book report to a class, and setting their life's path.

Looking down at Fiona, Briaar imagined some fantasy grandchild that inexplicably looked like her, her pint-sized ginger partner and their adopted Minotaur daughter, scrunched her face and shook her head as the unpredictable couple headed out to the bar. "Yeaaaah... Whiskey. Lots of frickin' whiskey."

"I could get on wi' bein' paid in whiskey, noow..."

With that, the unlikely pair in the matching black suits both straightened their ties, then departed the room where the chaos of the evening was now handily under control. As Thex explained the scenario to the authorities, the odd couple made their way to the bar, to enjoy their reward for a job well done.

Good drinks, good company, and good times spent with one another- their greatest reward.

Thex let out a sigh as she finally finished explaining this mess to the Risa security who had gotten everything down and had walked off looking over the madness he had just typed up. Taking off her helmet she breathed in a few times. She needed a drink. Her blue eyes drifted over to the Andorian mother and daughter at the heart of this mess. The resemblance was uncanny. Walking over she gave the two of them a polite smile. She tried to say something, but all that came up her throat was " I'm sorry that this ruined your vacation."

In the lobby of the opulent and ostentatious hotel that was hosting the bachelorette party of the Baroness Schwein Von Alcott, the grouping of ladies that had collected from the Hera had plans to meet back up for dinner at the hotel’s restaurant later that evening. But that meant that, until then, the sights of Risa’s recreated approximation of Earth’s Las Vegas were free to be explored.

The Baroness herself had gone to check on the two mountains of muscle, Petty Officer “Big” Ethel Jablonski and the Valkyrie Hildr in the group’s reserved suite and it appeared that Ensigns Briaar Gavarus and Fiona O’Dell had whisked Lieutenant Commander Thex sh’Zorathi off to another pub for a while.

A double-decker, open-topped hover-bus pulled up at the front of the hotel with the words ‘SWASHBUCKLERS ADVENTURE THEATRE: A Pirate Extravagaza’ and standing in the portico of the glittering resort, Captain Enalia Telvan had her trademark piratical smirk well and truly plastered on her face. At her side was the redheaded Romulan pilot, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox and the ship’s most recent addition, Chief Medical Officer Tovanna Mah. Standing neared to Dox, was the shadowy woman in flowing black silk known as Masato Rei, also known as the embodiment of Death itself, but at this moment, that particular fact wasn’t quite known to Dr. Mah.

“I guess with all the chaos of your Tribunal and then two missions on the Golden Ghost, Rita has had her fill of all things ‘pirate’ for a bit.” Mnhei’sahe said as a group of tourists disembarked from the rather large transport shuttle and they waited to board. Adjusting her black bolero jacket that covered the dark green dress she was wearing, the young pilot took in the sight of the replica of the Las Vegas strip. “So, this is supposed to be, what, a recreation of Earth Pirates of the colonial era? But… I would assume… romanticized for entertainment purposes, Caaa… Enalia?”

The order of the evening was no ranks, but it was clear that Mnhei’sahe was struggling just a smidge to call her Captain by her first name as the young Romulan woman blushed slightly at the slip.

"Oh yeah, definitely romanticized. Even today a lot of pirates have bad living conditions, though with modern tech it's sometimes by choice or laziness." Enalia waved one hand in the air as she explained. "Or lack of education on how to fix things... That's a pretty common cause as well. Still, I expect we'll see the lighter points of swashbuckling in the... Ah... What did humans call it?"

Rei chimed in with an answer she hoped was satisfactory. "I believe they called it the Golden Age, though I'm still curious as to why. They had more deaths per capita than almost any other world at that point of development as far as I can tell."

"I had a professor at the Academy that said something about...  what was it... it's in the hardest of times that the most extraordinary individuals tend to stand out in any culture. And if those individuals' achievements become romanticized, so too does the era or hardship they came from." Dox said, eyebrow raised with the slightest of smirks. "Or, sentients all over the galaxy really DO just like to blow their own... egos. Look how tough we were back then. I mean, Romulan history is filled with horror and tragedy on an epic scale, but I grew up hearing about how great that history was. Still, I'm sure that whatever we're in for will be, at least, entertaining."

Shrugging lightly, Dox turned toward the ship's new doctor that she had been actively avoiding in the week or so she had been on board the Hera. The anxious officer was somewhat territorial and had developed a strong friendship with the Hera's last doctor, who was also an El-Aurian, and the comparison had caused the young Romulan to be a bit more antisocial than was usual even for her. But here, in this off-duty locale, she was making an effort to be better and get over herself with this woman who was clearly less comfortable in groups than she was herself. "I'm glad you could make it, Dr. Mah. This might not be the most... conventional way to meet some of your new shipmates, but it should at least be memorable."

"Please call me Tova since we will be serving aside one another for the foreseeable future. As for our future Pirate Adventure, as long as it doesn't include scurvy, fluxes, food poisoning or any other more common medical conditions to pirateering I'm up for an adventure. I must admit a bit of admiration for the fashion if nothing else, there's something to be said about the combination of corsets and swords," Tova laughed at the thought of them romping around in such clothes in modern days.

"Tova it is. And you can call me Mnhei'sahe. Or just Dox as it's a bit earlier to pronounce." The young Romulan replied with a light smile, As she did, the transport doors hissed open and a short ramp extended down to the platform they were standing on and, almost as if on cue to the El-Aurian physician's comments, a young human man in an exceedingly tight vest with a billowing white top and baggy brown pants tucked into buccaneer boots strode out and extended his arm towards the open door while tipping his flourished Pirate hat with the other.

"Oooh, look honey, it's a real pirate!" one of the tourists behind them exclaimed, as Enalia's eye twitched.

"Greetings, one n' all! I be Cap'n Mac of this here transport to another age a' swashbucklin' adventure. Please, walk th' plank in single file and hop aboard! Thar be smooth sailin' ahead to our... final destination!" The young man said, chewing as much scenery as was humanly possible, leaning heavy into every syllable and grinning like a Cheshire cat the whole time as he looked at Enalia in the center of the grouping. "Ladies first."

The spotted woman's heart sank just a bit as she recognized the man. She'd had a bit of a rivalry with him before she joined Starfleet and she only hoped that he didn't recognize her. From the look of that grin on his face and the fact that he'd obviously picked her out of the crowd, she didn't think there was much hope of that after the Tribunal. Odds were good that her face had been plastered across every news source, be it public or private. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if there were unofficial bounties out on her placed by her old rivals.

Rather than avoiding a confrontation, Enalia decided she'd invite it, a grin matching his spreading across her face. "Captain Mac, cheesiest pirate this side of the Arachnid Nebula! You old dog!" As she spoke, she waved her hands dramatically and chewed up just as much scenery as he had, if not more. "It is a pleasure! And a de-light! To once again see your old whiskers! Please, pray tell us! What wondrous entertainment do we look forward to on this piratical voyage?"

"Well, well, who's t' say what mysteries of th' briney deep has t' offer, my dear." The grinning man in the ostentatious pirate costume declared as he stepped to the side to clear the ramp. "Let's be off to uncover buried treasure and court high adventure. Welcome aboard Ladies, Gentlemen and Sentients one n' all, t' Captain Mac's Swashbucklers Adventure! If'n you'll take yer seats, this here skiff of a transport will have us to our Pirate Ship in no time."

Looking away from Enalia and grinning to the small assemblage of tourists that began loading up onto the transport, Captain Mac welcomed each of the guests aboard one at a time with a clearly pre-scripted collection of cheezy one-liners. As Enalia, Dox, Tova, and Rei made their way to the open-air, upper level of the transport to the rear, the Red-Headed Romulan leaned over as they filled out the rear bench of seats while the transport loaded up and headed out down the brightly lit strip of casinos, hotels, and resorts. "So, you actually know the host of this thing, Ca... Enalia?"

"I seem to recall blowing a fair few of his ships out of the stars when he tried to break the code," replied Enalia, trying to settle in and hoping the entertainment was a bit more enjoyable than it was back then.

"Hmph... As long as I get a night off, I'm happy," added the pale woman known as Rei.

Tova rode along with a smirk at the level of cheese and the quips the respective Captains were exchanging. She turned her attention to Rei to avoid giggling at the costumed guide and tried to recall her from all of the personnel files she reviewed before coming aboard and pulled a blank. "What is it you do miss...I'm sorry....somehow I'm pulling a blank. My name is Tova, I'm the new doctor. I might as well get to know everyone since eventually, we cross paths." She smiled at Rei warmly.

"Ah, I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Rei and I've been afforded VIP quarters upon your sterling vessel on... Deck eight? I believe? After ages of not having a permanent home or friends, it's been a pleasant change of pace." Rei then paused a moment as she stared at Tova unblinkingly as if sizing her up and looking for a way to put it gently. "As for what I do... I look after those that transition from this life to the next so that they're not left in the dark. I am the embodiment and avatar of that which you despise and work against as a physician."

Tova froze, the shy insecure young woman somehow disappeared as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out. When she spoke it was no longer the relaxed, tone of sickbay or the unsure voice of the drunken woman from the night before. Tovanna Mah sounded like a Starfleet officer with sixty plus years of experience under her belt. She was professional, confident and she exuded power for the first time since boarding the Hera. "I'm to understand you oversaw the passing and extinction of my race with the assistance of the Borg? If that's the case, as a physician I don't work against you I merely ensure you're truly needed. You are a basic function in the cycle of life, like a sneeze. It is the suffering you inflict I work against. Your lack of mercy, your inequity, your disregard for who is left after the wake of your duties is what I work against. Understand however I see your necessity to keep balance. We all must evacuate our bowels as we work to keep our bodies in balance, I for one though flush such things once I'm rid of them and my toiling is at an end."

"Since you are not alive I'm sure you will have no need of my services Rei and as such I will avoid your deck as well. Enjoy the rest of your time with the ladies. I think it's time I return to my research on the ship." Tova looked to her captain with controlled professionalism and her continued air of confidence. "Permission to return to the ship, sir."

Listening, Dox's face blanched as she bit her tongue at first, wanting to defend her friend, in spite of Rei's uniquely unusual profession, but not finding the words fast enough.

"That's the normal response..." Rei sighed, keeping an eye on those around her. "You're wrong on one point though. I'm not the one causing the suffering. I do my best to ease it for those that pass and my least favorite cause is those infernal Borg. I assure you that one of my greatest pleasures is reclaiming the souls that they've..."

Enalia stepped in at that point to shut down the conversation, slightly annoyed at being called 'sir'. "Ok, that's enough for now. We're all friends here in one way or another. As for returning to the ship, since we arrived via Bifrost and the Hera is around forty light-years away, if you have a means of getting back you have my full and express permission."

"Then as I do have a means of leaving and I seem to be the disruptive element tonight, I will bid you all good night. There's a Klingon colony experiencing an uprising in a few hours that I should prepare for." With a gentle tap to Dox's tense shoulder and a nod, Rei made her exit, fading away through the crowd as if she were never there.

Tova rounded on Enalia, full doctor mode engaged. "Sir, if I might inquire as to the reason that as ship's doctor I was not made aware of this situation?!" Her hand gestured to where Rei sat moments ago, "Do I need to be concerned if she walks into sickbay while working on a patient? Wouldn't that be a be a bit of a conflict of interest if she and I are at odds during a procedure?" Dr. Mah started pacing, is there anyone else I've not been informed of?" She stood toe to toe with her commanding officer again, unblinking in her conviction. "While it may be your ship I'm one of the few damn people who you have some level of answerability to as a system of checks and balances for the safety of the crew. Consider me a cranky 60-year veteran trapped in this body. Not one of this crew will suffer so much as a hangnail on my watch and not one member of this crew will put another at risk." Dr. Mah stood up to her Captain no fear in her eyes and looking ever the part of an officer someone could comfortably go to knowing they would be well taken care of.

It was a complete conflict to the young woman who had been floating around the ship reading and handing out lollipops. Apparently when ruffled the doctor had a spine of steel and a stinging tongue. Now all that remained to be seen was her skills in the medical field while under fire which were reported to be top-notch and her ability in battle.

The Trill woman was willing to let the first 'sir' slide. She was even willing to overlook the issues until after they returned to the ship. But calling her 'sir' again and calling her out for something like this in public? Enalia was now in a very foul mood indeed. "First off... We could only see her tonight because she allowed it. I'm told that, barring a few exceptions, she can only be seen mere moments before passing. Second off, as the avatar, she exists in all places of the universe and only makes special appearances. Third off, if you have questions about her job and what it actually entails, which does not include walking into random places, I recommend you direct your inquiries to Commander Dox as she seems to spend the most time with her. Fourth off, you may address me as ma'am, captain, Enalia, hey you idiot over there, late for dinner, or anything else... But if you call me SIR again, you are going to get stabbed."

"Now as for other secret entities aboard the ship, we'll introduce you to Hera later." Unflinching and unblinking, Enalia stood there with her 'Queen face' on full display.

Tovanna nodded to her Captain respectfully, "Yes ma'am, I will try to remember your preference in title, though 60 years of Federation standards will be hard to break. My apologies, I was not informed about your dislike for the other. I will, however, continue my commitment to the Hera and it's crew stabbings or not. If possible please avoid major organs, ma'am, since the crew needs their doctor and I still outperform the best EMH we have since I helped program the most recent versions." Tova stepped back, her hands behind her back.

"As for Rei, that subject is better left alone. I've no wish to approach the issue. I understand she was doing her job. I trust your decision-making in this matter Captain. Just please understand the one area I am no shrinking flower is in my capacity to be a doctor or psychiatrist." She pulled out a lollipop and handed it to the Captain and then took a seat. She again appeared to be the quiet young woman with a lollipop. It was if a great beast had been put back into its unassuming shell. Within this woman with a great deal of potential, loyalty and hidden facets sat something more than the shy woman sure presented to the world. Tova silently watched the buildings go by on their way to the show contemplating.

As the tension hung heavy in the air, Dox didn't want to stir up anymore, but she also didn't want to leave the topic as it was. Gently and quietly, as the transport went down the strip to it's destination, the young Romulan woman turned slightly towards the ship's new doctor. "Tova... or, after this, maybe it will just be Dr. Mah... I don't know. But please know... what Rei does is a task that she must. It's a responsibility she can't abandon. And she does everything she can to make that moment as peaceful as possible for those she must meet."

"But some of us... myself among them... are only still here because she worked with our last CMO to not do her job for as long as possible." The anxious young woman said to the woman she was hoping not to alienate.

Looking at Dox thoughtfully, Tova slid closer to keep their conversation quiet, "First it will remain Tova unless you choose to address me differently. Second, I am under the impression Rei didn't enlist for her assignment unlike most of us so her duty should be done with swift efficiency if she wishes to be merciful. I've seen the suffering of those awaiting her call. Better she come quickly than wait until the last moments. As for my own feelings, it is the Borg who dealt the blow that ended my race that does not however change the pain of the loss. She is here, they are not, thus it is much easier to want to ask universal questions she may or may not have answers to."

The member of an endangered species shook her head, "I understand your last doctor was one of my own. We each bear this burden differently. My family and others have deep expectations of me and all their future children to somehow stop our eventual extinction." Tova looked down at her lollipop as if the weight of the world sat upon her shoulders. When again she spoke, her voice was quiet and low.

"The thing is, we are already dead as a species, a race, a people. We are walking history. The Borg and Rei saw to that, so yes, I will remain clear of Rei for now. If for no other reason than being a survivor of a colony of bugs she was assigned to wipe out. It was just her job, I get it. She was the clean-up crew to our extermination, our extinction." Tovanna took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she regained her composure and pulled back to be heard more readily.

"Now, we are here to be pirates and to celebrate. Enough seriousness. The doctor is prescribing lollipops all around, and festivities to be focused on a future with possibilities, not a past that cannot be changed. Who wants one?" She looked around determined to bring the mood back up and put the focus back where it belonged.

With an uncomfortable smile, Dox accepted a lollipop but sunk her head lightly. While, in her heart, she wanted to speak up and tell the doctor that she was wrong, she suddenly and fully began to understand what she already knew was the case: how impossibly lonely it was to be Masato Rei.

Thankfully, the ride ended quickly as the transport pulled up to a large, circular theater hall decked with massive spotlights and a holographic display in the front of the logo for the Pirate show rotating in space above the entrance.

Excitedly, the tourists disembarked and as they entered the lobby of the garishly decorated theater, decked out in kitschy faux-Earth Piracy paraphernalia of the colonial era, even the three crew members from the Hera were beginning to relax a bit more. Finally cracking her self-imposed silence, Dox looked around. "A... bit different from the Artan fortress, isn't it?"

In the hall where the hundred or so tourists had collected, were facades that resembled old Spanish forts from Earth history, each flying torn and worn flags with white skulls emblazoned on them. One in Red and one in Gold, on either side over separate entrances.

"It's a bit... Yeah..." Enalia withheld judgment on the cheap decor for the actual show, hoping it wasn't as garish and one-sided. "So do you think they'll focus solely on Earth piracy or mix in a few other racial piracy stereotypes as well?"

"It does look fairly... Earth-centric, so far." Dox said, betraying a bit if her own prejudice in the slightly dismissive tone that she quickly quashed as she looked around. "Still, it is... Interesting. Colorful at least."

As the red-headed Romulan looked around with a critical eye, Captain Mac popped up, as a slightly oversized hologram atop The partition between the two entrances, and his voice now boomed through the hall. "Greetings landlubbers, sentients from a thousand worlds and beings of all kinds. Yer about to enter a wild world a' swashbuckling adventure like no other and get a glimpse of the world of pirates from the ancient seas all the way to the wild spaceways!"

"That answers that, I suppose." Dox muttered to Enalia and Tova as the hologram continued.

"On your tickets, you'll see a color. That color.. be it Red... Or gold..." And as the hologram spoke, his vest changed color to match his words, "dictates yer journey. If her ticket be GOLD, then enter through the starboard port and follow yet hostess to get seats. If yet ticket be red, then PORT is yet Port a' call! Walk quickly, but safely, t' yer FINAL destination!"

Pulling out the e-paper tickets, the info scrolled across a gold background. "That's odd... I could have sworn they were red when I got them... But they're gold now."

As the trio made their way to the door on the right, the young woman at the kiosk who was taking tickets who appeared to be a short, human brunette with a near-perpetual smile and a gold-rimmed pirate costume looked at Enalia. "Ahh, welcome Miss Telvan. Captain Mac has arranged special accommodations for you and your group and would like to welcome you to behind the scenes before the show begins. If you all would follow Chet, the cabin boy, he'll show you all to the VIP booth."

Walking up behind her was a thick built young man that looked to be half-Klingon and half-human and didn't look much like an actor with more than a few real-looking scars on his exposed and quite well-developed arms. He nodded with a slightly creepy grin as he opened a side door to lead them into the narrow dark hall that lead to the dressing rooms for the show. One of the rooms had a gold star-shaped display that read 'VIP' on it that slid open to admit the group. "If you'll all wait here, the Captain will be with you momentarily."

The room was simple enough, with racks filled with pirate costumes, mirrors and makeup stations and a long, green couch against the wall. Looking around, Dox gave Chet a bit of a sideways glare as she caught him looking her up and down with a narrow-eyed stare as the door shut behind him. "So... how much trouble do you think we're in, Enalia?"

"Considering Chet was Mac's security officer when I... Ahem... Last I heard..." Enalia shrugged it off and decided to try to relax for a few, still keeping an eye out for deceit and subterfuge. "I'm willing to bet he's still pretty sore that fifteen year old me disassembled his whole operation almost to the man and reduced him to selling shows here on Risa just for breaking the pirate's code."

"The way I see it though, the moment he started peddling in the truly harmful stuff, he was no longer a pirate and deserved everything we gave him." Enalia then grinned her best piratical grin as she sat down on the green couch. "Then again, anyone would be pissed if they lost thirty ships against three."

Pacing slightly, Dox walked in a bit of a protective orbit around the Hera's new CMO as she looked around the room. "Then being ready for anything is probably a good precaution."

As she spoke, the door swung open dramatically as Captain Mac flung himself in with a showman's flourish. "Greetings, ladies! I am so glad you agreed to meet with me before the show!"

His uniform was now rimmed in Red with an even larger, more ostentatious feather in his even larger pirate's hat. "I wanted to take this opportunity to have a brief aside before the evening's entertainment began. And to make... something of a request of my queen."

"There's certainly no harm in asking," Enalia replied with one of her best grins. "I might even be inclined to agree to your request."

Bowing, the faux Captain removed his oversized hat and stepped in closer, shutting the door behind him. As he did, Dox automatically stopped pacing and stood slightly between him and her Captain. Not enough to interrupt him, but enough to let him know she wouldn't let him try anything. 

And he noticed as he stepped slightly back and stood back up. "Indeed. Well, then I shall make my request. Ours is a showcase of the... lighter view of our noble profession. One somewhat sanitized and fantasized for the masses. But it is a show that, nonetheless, requires skilled performers with a blade. And tonight, we are a few hands short thanks to some delay on the strip that has apparently rerouted the local transports. Which is to say, for a swashbuckling adventure show, we stand a few swashbucklers short on the Gold team. And knowing your skills well and your... generous nature which has allowed me to carry on in spite of our past issues, I would request to fold you and yours into our show for the evening to really show the crowd a good time."

The Trill woman took a deep breath and pretended to consider it. She knew Dox and herself could handle most of it, but she still had to wonder of Tova had ever held a sword, let alone had any skill with one. "That is a bit of an issue, isn't it? My skills with a blade notwithstanding, my companions may not be quite as handy. Still... It would be nice, for old time's sake. So the odds are what then? The three of us versus..."

"A meager ten swashbucklers wielding holographic safety blades. At this moment, our acrobats should be warming up the crowd and building up the energy. We strive to put on the best show we can, with performers from a dozen worlds. But I guarantee that those dear people out there have never seen your like." Then, the Captain looked Dox up and down quickly, "Or that of your able companions, no doubt."

"We have wardrobe a plenty and afterward, a bit of feast, drink, and merriment in reward for a show unlike any seen on this world since Risa was once the lawless frontier herself." he concluded with a bow.

"Then we look forward to being part of your show." With a bow of her head, Enalia waited until he left before letting her smile slip and addressing the other two. "Mnhei'sahe, I know you can handle most swords well enough to route his entire crew. Tova, what about you?"

"Daggers would be my preference Captain if you don't mind." She nodded to her commander and already front-loaded her hypo with sedatives. Given their trip she knew there was the possibility of people getting out of hand, thus the need for calmer patients. She also had stimulants, antihistamines, and other neuroactive medications. There was also of course her tricorder and 60 years of anatomy and physiology, which though ugly to think about, equated to an efficient understanding of how to dissect someone. It was a skill she wasn't proud of, partnered with a focus in defensive combat. Do no harm didn't apply when it came to self-defense. She would never be an offensive fighter, but after hearing what happened to her people she was determined to go down fighting. It was a skill she hid from everyone, her family, Starfleet, everyone, due to her shame over the inner fury she felt every time she felt when she practiced. She merely nodded to her Captain feeling the dreaded adrenaline rush and stood quietly behind Dox who gave the doctor a slightly surprised smile.

"Then we should be able to at least put on a good show since the people out there paid for one, right?" Enalia stood and headed over to the costume racks, looking over the selection, tossing a few aside as she tried to find one that wasn't completely tacky. "And maybe I'll get to put Cheesy Mac in his place again..."

Looking over at the rack of over-the-top Pirate costumes that left remarkably little to the imagination, the generally body-conscious stout young Romulan rolled her eyes. "Of course there are skimpy costumes. Kreldanni shaill'hnaev."

Letting out a particularly crude Romulan expletive equivalent to the excrement of a horse, Dox pulled off a dark green blouse with a gold vest and poofy black pants. "But I have a thought. If you're willing to... abdicate your throne for the night?"

Enalia finally settled on a skimpy black leotard with gold fishnets and a gold vest. "This will do... If by abdicate, you mean what I think you mean, I think we might survive the show. Especially if he sticks true to his MO and actually has thirty or more pirates with real swords out there."

Pulling her black, long-sleeved bolero jacket off to reveal the shiny, black Asgardian bracers she was wearing that had both a suit of custom made armor contained within it, and more than a few swords, Dox looked at Enalia with a light smirk. "Swords, we have. I'm thinking with Tova favoring daggers, if we let her play the part of "pirate queen" for the show, we can create a protective perimeter and handle the longer swords as needed. If that's good with you, Tova?

Tova looked back and forth between them both and sighed, "This is going to suck. After this we will sit down over a long drink and there will be an explanation of what started all of this. For now, I need the quick version of how I should be dressed as a queen of pirates before we head out to give this performance. I also hope that any unbecoming behavior on my part will be unspoken of to the rest of the crew." She sighed with resignation and once again looked like the doctor who went toe to toe with her Captain earlier. "And for the record, I will need someplace to hide my hypo, preferably with sleeves so I can slip it in and out."

Enalia gave a quick explanation as she quickly changed, popping several curved daggers out of her bracers and handing them off to Tova as she did so. "Long story short, I'm the queen of an empire that's rooted in piracy. Mac's pirate group is one that I personally crushed as a young girl. This is a chance at revenge and I expect him to take it. Do I feel bad about reducing him to show business? Not really. It's an honest living. Do I hold anything against him? Not really, no. Personally, I'd like to think we're here to help make his show that much better."

Having finished slipping into what amounted to the skimpiest outfit of the lot, the Trill woman turned to face the other two as she completed the ensemble with clip on cat ears and her usual grin. "And that's why you're in the back as the queen. I'd like to show off my sword skills and beat the crap out of some people. Then, after we give the crowd a good show by beating up all his men, we'll let Mac best the evil queen and her minions so he gets to keep his job as an entertainer, and we call it a day. Sound like a plan?"

Lacing the green blouse up as high over her less than impressive chest as it would go, which wasn't much, Mnhei'sahe looked at Enalia and rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion with the slightest of smirks. Like Rita, the Starship Captain knew how good she looked and enjoyed flaunting that from time to time. The thickly built young Romulan woman, however, was much less comfortable with her appearance. But tonight, she was there to put on a show and flicked her wrist as the black bladed sword she trained with appeared in her hands. After a quick twirl, she flicked her wrist again and the blade vanished back into the pocket dimension contained within her bracer. "Aye... uh... Matey? Is that right?"

"Aye, that be the right of it, lass," Enalia replied with a wink as she checked her own Trill heavy rapier, the thick blade flicking in and out of existence for but a moment. "If we be ready for a brawl, then?"

Tova looked down at her corset, at Dox and looked back at Enalia with her cat ears, "Seriously? You are both up for a mental exam when we get back to the ship. In the meantime let's go kick some booty."

To Be Continued...

"GREETINGS SENTIENTS, ONE AND ALL! I be yer humble host, Captain Mac of the dread pirate ship, Comeuppance! An' I welcome ye all t' tonight's quest inta' adventure!" The booming voice of the former scourge of the spaceways bellowed through the darkened theater as the murmur of the crowd lowered to a hush. Then, after a dramatic pause, a single spotlight turned on and, dressed in black and red, Captain Mac rose up into the center of the arena on a raised platform, his arms held out wide.

"Tonight, ye shall be witness to an epic battle from the high seas of ancient Earth all the way to the deadly spaceways of the Neutral Zone, and perhaps, all th' way to th Great Barrier and beyond, and our two groups of rival pirates will do battle in a test of bravery, cunning and impossible skill and lock blades inSWASHBUCKLERS ADVENTURE THEATRE: A Pirate Extravagaza!!!!" As he yelled out, the lights came on in the arena with a spray of holographic pyrotechnics illuminating the facades of two ancient-looking wooden sailing ships on either side of a moat of open water. On both sides of the arena, the audience roared with applause as they sat along rows of bench seats with long tables with plates of food in front of them.

"On this side, we have the noble RED PIRATES! The very ship sailed by yer very own Captain Mac, of the Seven Seas!" Mac swept his arm, as a platform in the center of the left ship raised to reveal a group of Five pirates, all in Red and black, led by the Half-Klingon pirate, Chad. As they raised their swords in the air and let out a cheer, Mac turned back to the crowd. "All of ye on THIS side of the arena, let out a cheer for YOUR team! The RED PIRATES!"

As he did, the audience in the seats rimmed in red let out a thunderous cheer, pumping their fists in the air wildly.

"And on THIS side..." Mac grinned theatrically as he pointed to the other ship, "The Pirate Queen of the spaceways! Scourge of the Seven Seas! THE GOLD PIRATES! All of ye on THIS side of the arena, CHEER for your team!!"

And as Enalia, Mnhei'sahe and Tova rose up on their platform, their side of the arena let out a massive whoop for them.

Adjusting the belts they had been given with the holographic swords in them, Mnhei'sahe whispered to Enalia and Tova, "Well... so far, only a LITTLE uneven. So far."

"Are you kidding? They don't have enough crew to even these odds," Enalia whispered back with a big smile and a wave to the crowd.

Tova cocked her hip, looked at the crowd with a smile and finger waved.

Taking the cue, Dox followed suit, grabbing the three-pointed black hat she had grabbed from the costume rack and waved it in the air to the crowd, but instead of any cheers, there were hisses and a few boos with a couple of slurs aimed at her pointed Romulan ears that carried across the room. Scowling now, she plopped the hat back on her head and rolled her eyes and groaned out a curse in her native tongue. "Kreldanni figures. Now I'm really ready to fight someone."

As the crowd died down, Captain Mac introduced a group of acrobats that performed a series of impressive trapeze maneuvers far above the stage and told more than a few bad jokes to the audience while Enalia, Dox, and Tova waited for their cue. But as the preliminary part of the stage show continued, the three officers from the Hera noticed something. Slowly, one by one, more red-garbed pirates popped up on the ship across the small gap. Then, platforms on the far end of their own ship opened to reveal an even dozen armed combatants, all eyeing the three women as the acrobats finished. The canny Starfleet Captain and Pirate Queen shot a glance to her two junior officers to make sure they were aware of the slowly shifting odds. THankfully Dox and Tova were well aware, hands on the hilts of their holographic weapons, but ready to pull out the real things if needed.

Then, with a blast of fireworks, the acrobats exited the stage and the spotlights dimmed as Captain Mac appeared on the center platform between the two ships again as he called out to the audience. "And now, good sentients, the moment you've all bee waiting for! Who's ready to see the main attraction!?"

The audience roared to life, cheering and hollering over their trays of food and drink as the Red and Black clad Pirate Captain pulled his shimmering sword from his hilt, appearing to be thoroughly real as he pointed it menacingly at Enalia with a dark grin. "Who shall be victorious!? Will it be the noble RED PIRATES!? Or the duplicitous GOLD PIRATES!?"

Pulling the hilt from her belt, Dox ran the blade across her leg quickly to see that it was completely immaterial. Shaking her hands out, she dropped the useless hilt to the deck so Enalia and Tova could see that the show weapons wouldn't even be useful to block a blade as Mac's grin twisted into a malicious sneer. "Let's see who is truly the better... once and for all!"

His words lowered from their earlier roar to something far more personal and clearly aimed at the Pirate Queen who once humbled him years ago as he pointed his sword to the deck of the Gold ship with a loud call to action as the other pirates began rushing the three women.

Not even bothering with the show blade at her hip, Enalia flicked her wrist and had her signature Trill rapier with the rose jeweled pommel in her hand with a flash, which caused a gasp of awe to roll from the crowd. Rather than use it on the first wave, however, she leapt right at them with a quick succession of disabling kicks to three of them, sending them over the rail of the gold deck and into the water below, her offhand never leaving her hip. "Come on, Captain Mac! The Queen awaits a challenge and you can't even get past her court jester? Is this the best you've got?"

With a hop up on the handrail and a few swipes at the men coming across the ropes, Enalia did her best to get the crowd even more riled up, the cheers for both sides going wild as the grinning leopard woman seemed to be one-handedly defending her part of the ship from at least a dozen men casually. The first to land successfully lunged at her, but she swatted the blade from his hand as if her were a child, and as his eyes went wide, she slashed quickly at his middle.

The frightened man flinched and winced in tight before noticing that the only thing cut was the thick belt of his pants, which flumped to the deck to the uproarious laughter of the crowd. Taking advantage of the moment, the real Pirate queen gave lept up to meet the oncoming attackers on the rail of the ship itself, matching their blades with ease, the piratical grin fixed on her face as she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

From her side, Dox took a quick count as 6 armed Pirates rushed her. Running the strategy in her head like they were obstacles to be tagged in an aerial dogfight, the natural pilot and skilled fighter grinned. "They want a show... here you go."

Rushing the first pirate, she kept her own blades contained in the bracers and pulled the hat off her head. As the pirate lunged with his razor-sharp rapier, the Romulan officer caught the tip in the leather of her hat and sidestepped the thrust. With the blade caught in the hatband, the pirate tried to extricate his weapon as she rushed in close, twisted the hat and wrenched his own sword out of his hand. Grabbing the handle, she whipped the blade out away from the first pirate causing the hat to fly off and smack a second pirate in the face as he advanced while she spun around and slammed the hilt of the sword into its owners face, sending him squealing over the edge.

Watching the display of skills she had learned from her sparring sessions with Enalia, the crowd suddenly erupted with applause. Smirking broadly, with a freshly stolen rapier in hand, Dox gave the blade a flourished swirl as she launched after the other combatants, careful to disarm and defeat without actually causing any real harm in front of the crowd.

Tova was so thankful that Dox had the foresight to sneak the daggers to her ahead of their battle as she threw the useless props to the floor as she entered the fray. Her adrenaline surged as she stomped forward and quickly closed the space between herself and the oncoming two pirates looking at her with less than friendly looks.

She had her double-edged dagger in a forward position open and obvious, the hypo was in a more hidden reverse position ready for combat. The first pirate came at her with a sword, laughing at her dagger until she rushed towards him in almost dance-like grace past his simple attempt to impale her. She swept away from him as a confused look crossed his face while she moved on to the next attacker. He turned to face her fell over asleep before he even realized what happened.

She was able to repeat the move once again however new she would run out of the anesthesia so she moved to more creative injections. Her hypo was put through its paces for the next ten pirates which were all left on their knees or out cold. Now she was left to the use of her daggers until she could get her hypo reloaded with another ampule from her bra.

Fighting her way through a phalanx of pirates, it was becoming clear that most were little more than performers with the most minimal amount of real combat training, until Dox's blade met that of the grim-faced, half-Klingon pirate, Chet. With a growl, he lunged in, swinging powerfully at the red-headed Romulan and shouting. "Die, Romulan scum!"

"Really?" Dox moaned as she blocked his advances, but found herself being pushed slightly back towards the edge of the ship by the strength of his blows. Glancing over her shoulder, she grinned slightly at the sight behind her before turning back to Chet and showing him back slightly. Then, with a spit at the deck, she threw her stolen rapier to the deck, sticking it in the wood at the Klingon's feet and roaring at him in Klingon, "BIHnuch!"

Calling him a 'coward' in his own tongue sent Chet into a rage as he lunged at Dox, trying to tackle her. Stepping back, the young Romulan caught the angry fighter as he went to tackle her, redirecting his momentum and twisting him into a tackle as they flew over the side of the mock boat together. As they slammed down hard onto the first row of seats in the audience, Dox strategically landed on top of Chet as his back hit against several plates of food and drink which splashed on the patrons. "GYAAAGH!!!"

Grabbing one of the large metal drink steins, Dox smashed it across Chet's face hard enough to knock the angry man out. Then, with one leg on the row of tables and one on Chet's chest, she looked down at the mess of food spread out around the unconscious Klingon and shook her head. Reaching down, she grabbed a large leg of the roasted chicken and took a massive bite, with a guilty smile. "Mmmm. Oh, that's so kreldanni good. Sorry, Mona. I had to."

Grabbing a roped that lead back to the mock ship, Dox swung back over to rejoin the fight.

Meanwhile, Enalia had made short work of almost all of the rest of Captain Mac's fighters, half of whom were in the moat, and the other half, crying on the deck. Watching, the furious former Pirate raged as he launched himself from his platform, blade raised, at the woman who once so thoroughly bested him in ship to ship combat so many years ago.

"You think you're so special! It was a fluke that you ever defeated me!" Mac said, clearly trying to build himself up with a lie that wouldn't convince a child as he swung wildly at Enalia. For her part, the mistress of the blade kept her offhand on her hip, never once faltering in her defense. But a defense was all she was putting up.

"I was but a child cutting my teeth when I bested you last! This time will be no different!"

Raging now, Mac's face was as red as his shirt as he slashed wildly at his better, not even noticing that she hadn't even broken a sweat defending herself. The blades flashed in sweeping strokes as his advancement kept the Trill woman stepping back across the center of the Gold ship, now the absolute center of attention as Tova and Dox had finished off their last combatants and watched along with the rest of the crowd.

In the center of the action, Enalia lept back, grabbing some of the rigging to swing around in a wide spin around the ship's main mast to the other side of Capt Mac, who swung around to meet her in a near panic, only barely blocking her blade in time. As the locked swords, the audience let out an audible gasp, clearly the best show that the troupe had ever put on. Leaning in close, Enalia made sure they were close enough to touch as she whispered to her foe, "This stage will be yours. Be ready for my yield."

"I... I can... I can beat you FAIR! I CAN..." He whispered back through gritted teeth and knitted brows, realizing that it was a lie as he said it. "Why? Why would you do this?"

As he spoke, Enalia mimed being shoved back as if Captain Mac had actually done it himself, pulling his own sword arm out towards her as she fell back in a broad, theatrical gesture, answering his question not with words but with actions. The actions of a true queen, refusing to shame her opponent and allow him to save face in front of his audience. As their eyes met, her steely gaze told him what to do, and from the wooden deck where she lay, pretending to be defeated, it was Enalia Telvan who had one the true duel.

Raising his sword towards her, the panic was gone from his face, replaced by the practiced expression of a man better suited to performance than true piracy. "Yield, I have defeated you this day! And with the knight bested, so falls the queen!"

"VICTORY TO THE RED PIRATES!!!!" He roared to the crowd who cheered on with him, as the room lights illuminated the theater fully, the show over.

-------------------------

In the back room of the theater, Enalia, Dox and Tova were finishing getting dressed back in their own clothes to leave as the door to the dressing room opened. Stepping in first, was the Klingon pirate, Chet, whose eyes were bloodshot and his broken nose dressed in bandages. He shot Dox a narrow-eyed gaze that she disregarded with an eye-roll as he stepped aside, allowing Captain Mac to enter, hat in hand.

"Your highness, I come to beg forgiveness for my actions this evening." He said weakly. "I allowed my passions to get the better of me. I throw myself upon your mercies and leave my fate to your judgment. I only ask that my troupe be allowed to continue, as most knew not what my plans were and simply performed the tasks they were told to."

With a kind smile, Enalia paused in her changing and let her dress fall to the ground so that all she had on was her undergarments. Still, even in the skimpiest of white lace and string that put literally every single one of her spots on full display, she still looked royal as she placed a hand on Mac's shoulder. "My friend, you have finally learned the lesson in life that I had hoped you would learn those many years ago. You are earning a noble, honest living and in the arts no less. Take pride in your accomplishments. As for my forgiveness, you have it. Together we put on a wondrous show for those gathered and in the end, what more could one ask for in theatre?"

With a face red from his embarrassment, Captain Mac bowed deeply, nodding. "You have my eternal gratitude, my queen. And my ongoing service. And I thank you again for showing the crowd an evening they will not soon forget."

Then, rising to his feet, he cleared his throat and awkwardly switched his expression to a showman's smile. "That is extended to you all, ladies. Never has my stages seen such wonder. And never has poor Chet been so humbled in front of so many."

As Mac slapped the still fuming half Klingon on his shoulder, Chet was still glaring at Dox, "Next time, things will be different..." But as he spoke, Mac shot him a steely glare and the massive pirate shuddered, containing his anger as he finished through gritted teeth, "... my Baroness."

For her part, Dox ignored the petty taunt and instead addressed Captain Mac, "You are welcome, Captain. I'm happy the audience enjoyed the show. And I'm sure our doctor here is glad that we didn't have to employ any of her primary skills much, right, Tova?"

The doctor in question only seethed at Mac with a hard look. "You may want to have those I dealt with checked medically. All were compromised and may need follow-ups." She hoped he realized the weight of what she just said, and how things could have been much worse. "And I am indeed thankful I didn't need to make use of my surgical skills," she said while looking at her dagger just a little too fondly before flicking her glance at Mac with a smile that never made it to her eyes.

"You are an oddly frightening woman, Doctor. ladies, we bid you good eve," the showman troupe captain backed his crew out in front of him as he took a final bow, then was out the door. Left alone at last, the hilarity of the experience they had just been through settled on the three women.

Sighing slightly, Mnhei'sahe let out a light chuckle. "Well... so far, this is still better than most of my other shore leave experiences. That said, I am thoroughly ready for a drink or... eight."

"There's a reason I insist on shore leave at my fortress," Enalia began with a grin and a slight chuckle. "But this has been more entertaining than usual. No one has died yet at least."

Since it was now just the three of them Tova could relax, "For the record, that guy was a schmuck and it would be fitting to see him in a state of temporary paralysis for placing the lives of his crew in peril for such petty reasons." She shook her head disgusted still muttering to herself, "I really need a martini and then some." She looked at the other two women, the adrenaline wearing off, realizing her grumbling was being listened to. She looked ashamed at what she said, "My apologies Captain." Tova demurred setting down the daggers on a table and pulled out a lollipop as she took a seat.

"I won't argue with you there, so no apologies needed. Thankfully, our next stop is the Paris Hotel. Rita's booked a buffet and we're supposed to meet back there once we're done sightseeing." Now fully dressed, Enalia looked ready to rock the town once more. "So how about we abandon ship and grab some grub, me hearties? Yo ho, yo ho!"

"Farming, tubers yannow, cuz the gravity wouldn't let the smaller plants push off the ground. Some fungus and mosses too, and livestock. You?"

"Goat herding when in the village, rowing like everyone else when at sea, then I fought with the axes when we pillaged."

"So how'd you end up in service, hah? I was assigned as a guard, then it was an honor guard, and her Aspect did the rest. Because I believed, doncha know. Well, I guess you really do..."

"When I fought, I praised Odin's name, und he called me to his service when I joined him in Valhalla."

"You get the flying horse and the helmet with the wings and the swell shield and spear and the big dramatic cloak and everything? Because you're, like, shieldmaidens of Odin, right? you appear to the noble warriors upon their death, to carry them to the feasthall of Odin, to be chosen to enter Valhalla?"

The penthouse suite Rita Paris had reserved had been put to good use by the two amorous titans, and while a splintered chair and a lot of overturned furniture told the tale of their wrestling, roughhousing and sexual play in the main room of the suite. Now, relaxing and taking in the floor to ceiling view of the arcology laid out below them, the duo of devoted damsels relaxed in one another's arms, getting to know one another, as only servants empowered by the divine could.

Which was when Baroness Schwein von Alcott, fiance to Thor, God of Thunder decided to make her entrance. First she tried knocking, but unfortunately, the door was less sturdy than she expected and it buckled easily under her first blow. "Ah... yes... Mein apologies about that. I hope I am not intruding," she said as she entered anyway, trying to carefully piece the door somewhat back into shape as she did so.

"There are many shows and dinner is at nine so I..." The one-eyed pirate then saw the state of the rest of the suite and left the remains of the door as they were and just carefully shut it, leaving the hole is it was. "Ahem... I was wondering if you would care to join me for a few more drinks and such?"

The leviathan lovers, neither of whom were particularly shy or self-conscious about their bodies, sex, or nudity, looked at one another, nodded, and rolled apart to begin hunting for their clothes. “Sounds good to me, Baroness. I can always eat… Hildr, you?”

"I could eat an entire feast myself," the large valkyrie replied as she started strapping her clothes back on. "Und I could drink a cask of whatever passes for ale in this realm, as well."

"Risa has a local ale similar to mead that I've been meaning to try," Schwein added, walking over to the balcony and looking out over the strip. "It is made from the local fruits and honeys and preserved in casks of Risian redwood. Sounds interesting, ja?"

“I’m sure willing to give it a try. Commander said I had the night off, and that she was on duty, so I could definitely try some local brewskis,” the muscular maiden explained as she shook out the sundress she’d worn and looked around for her sandals. Clothing location had not been high on her priority list when she and Hildr had come upstairs together, and now she was glad they hadn’t opened any windows. At least she knew her clothes had to be here somewhere. Grabbing her black silk and lace panties from the floor, Jablonski wrinkled her nose and carried them by two fingers to the replicator to get a fresh pair, as this pair was far too sodden to wear now.

“I gotta say, I needed that… I feel so darn relaxed now, yannow?” Ethel Jablonski said over her shoulder, noticing that the Valkyrie and the Pirate were both starting out the window together. Fetching the recycled panties out of the replicator, Big Ethel stepped gingerly into them as her brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s so exciting out there, am I missing something, hey?”

Rather than speaking, Schwein pointed to the spectacle in the streets taking place. The Statue of Liberty was now moving slowly and swinging her torch in the general direction of a large group of people in a double-decker hoverbus. The suite that they were currently in was just at eye level for the large lady.

"Is this normal entertainment for thine realm?" Hildr asked, slightly confused as she finished strapping her dress on.

Flipping through pages on a PaDD, Ethel joined them at the window. "Nooooope, says that's supposed to be a stable attraction. Definitely not ambulatory and... okay, it just stepped on a worker bee. That's definitely not part of the... show..."

The security officer paused as the gigantic green statue turned, and pointed the torch in it's right hand in an unmistakable challenge. Which was reinforced when it roared, a sound like girders groaning, brows coming down together in an expression of rage.

"So, ah... I'm kinda thinkin' we should probably stop that there lawless rampaging automaton, hah?" Jablonski declared. While it might be an insane concept for some, given who the trio of women were, the statement was actually rather practical.

"Ja... I believe it is time for the application of violence..." With a flash of electricity, her slightly used cudgel that she was gifted by Thor flashed into Schwein's hand. "Other than smashing it, does anyone have a..."

Though the one-eyed pirate obviously wanted to ask if anyone had a plan, the now mobile Lady Liberty refused to give her time as she let loose another girder-groaning roar and brought her torch to bear in a mighty swing. Fortunately, Schwein was quick to leap to the defense, bringing her own now enhanced might against that of the oversized copper maiden in a great clash of lightning and flame as she leapt into the path of the massive torch several times her size to deflect it and using the momentum to leap back to the balcony with the other two.

"Ja... Smashing will take some work... Any other ideas?" Schwein asked, a slight grin already forming on her face.

“The bigger they are,” Jablonski grinned as her EVA armor materialized upon her body and the power systems kicked on, even as a glowing blue energy field in the shape of a riot shield sprang into being on her left forearm. In her right hand, a rather large and improbable-looking hammer appeared, which looked more like a tool to be found in Engineering than a weapon.

"The harder they FALL, warriors!" Hildr said with wide, almost wild eyes for a moment as she rolled her massive shoulders back and flicked her wrists. And from the gilded bracers she wore, came a shimmering of golden light that spread out in a flash over her. As the light faded, her coiled arms were now bound in gilded metal bands crisscrossing up to the rippling shoulders. Decked out now in blue leather exquisite masterwork Valkyrie armor, a round spiked wooden shield bound in iron bands and rivets on her left arm, and a long, fur-lined black bear cloak, HIldr brandished a long spear in her right hand that she raised to the mammoth statue across the way from their balcony. 

Looking over to Ethel, Hildr's eyes flashed and a grin spread across her face. "I have grappled with thou in the bedchamber, but now we will grapple for real against a worthy threat. Truly this is to be a most glorious night! This great beast seems fixed 'pon us, mayhaps it would be best to give it our attention and lead it away from the mortals in its path. What say you all?"

"Ground level action is only gonna do so much, doncha know- that wide a base, you just know she's gonna be a pain to topple. I think we need altitude to make a proper strike to knock her down," Jablonski declared as she turned in place, the scanners of her EVA armor working, mapping out the local terrain of the Strip and displaying the information inside the HUD of her helmet.

"Okay, I think I got it. There's a tower over there, the... Eiffel tower? It's a vantage with the trajectory we need, and we can knock her over into the pyramid there- scanners say it should hold up under the impact, and it's us setting her down where she won't hurt anyone. Problem is, the Strip is kinda big, so we need to get her the 1.4 kliks down there, hopefully without her stepping on traffic, and we gotta convince her to follow us." The professional Starfleet security officer pushed her scanner displays to the side, and regarded the demigoddess and the Valkyrie of myth and legend. "What? Hera didn't choose me to be her general JUST because I work out..."

With another flash of lightning, Schwein was now in her own gold and blue Artan pirate armor, the large fish tank helmet coming up and sealing with a ch-thunk so that only the gold stenciled skull was visible. "Well then, I will make sure I have her attention, ja? You two work on the actual fall."

With that Schwein leapt off of the balcony right at the face of the giant moving statue, causing a shower of blinding blue sparks and bouncing off. As the pirate baroness hovered a bit away thanks to the new mods in her armor, it seemed she had at least pissed off the giant green woman who started trying to swat at her.

"So now we rappel down the side of the building, hit street level and run?" Jablonski asked, reeeeeally hoping this was going to be a magical flying horsie moment.

"Rappel?" Hildr said with a grin. "We've no time for such nonsense? There is a giant to fell, and seeing your tactical mind at work has re-stoked the fires of my netherregions, woman! So let us make short work of this challenge, to resume our time together."

Lifting her spear, the gilded gladiator let out a whistle and shouted, "To me, RAINBOW DASH!" and after a few seconds, there was a Tumblr and a burst of rainbow light that illuminated the strip. And from the center of the light came an almost glowing white-winged steed, beating its wings heroically and appearing to be the culmination of fantasy come to life.

Which caused the normally serious-minded security officer Ethel Jablonski to squeal like a little girl, her eyes wide with wonder and delight, at a sight that usually only existed in holovids and storybooks.

The jade metal giant looked up at the sight and let out a roar that shuddered the windows of the nearby buildings. From the street below, groups of tourists looked up, pointing and cheering, clearly not realizing that what they were seeing was a real threat, and not part of an epic show being put on by their hosts, the Risan tourism board. "Wow! I TOLD you this was better than just going to Branson again this year!"

"Rainbow Dash shall not slow much, brave Ethel. Make ready to mount as she passes!" Hildr directed, crouching to leap as the winged horse swooped towards them.

“I have waited my entire life for this moment,” the golden-armored security officer whispered, as she waited for the Valkyrie to leap, and half a second later, the bulky armored honor guard captain leapt for the flying horse. But while she was strong and capable, the leaping mount atop a flying horse was not something with which she was proficient, and she fell short. As she realized her leap had been insufficient, her eyes widened as she realized she was going to fall 36 stories to the street below.

But as she began to fall, the majestic winged creature spiraled down and Hildr lanced out with her spear arm and scooped it around Ethel, pulling her close. "You'll not escape my passions so easily, great Ethel! Now, let us enact your plan."

Placing the massively muscled maiden on the back of the horse as easily as Ethel would pick up tiny Fiona O'Dell, Hildr directed Rainbow Dash into a dive in front of the statue's feet.

"You are so getting laid tonight," the massively muscled maiden of Hera's honor guard whispered as she clung to the even larger Valkyrie. "Okay, so if we can make a charge up the Strip to scatter traffic right in front of her to start, I'll coordinate with local law enforcement. Okie doke?"

"Aye! Thy will be done!" Hildr said as she patted the thick muscled kneck of her horse and thrust her spear towards the busy strip. "HYAAAA!!! HYAAAA, RAINBOW DASH!!! Let us part this sea of peasantry!!"

Vaulting off the back of the flying horse when she spotted a law enforcement vehicle, Jablonski's glowing blue energy riot shield became a meter round curved shield, and she tucked in behind it as she rolled, bleeding off her momentum until, one leg outstretched, she came to a stop in front of the vehicle. Weapon nowhere to be seen, the EVA clad avenger offered a salute, and a small projected hologram that bore the Starfleet insignia, her photo and the easily read words 'Starfleet Security'.

"Hello there, officers, hello! I'm Petty Officer Jablonski of Starfleet Security, and we've kinda got a giant monster problem goin on here, doncha know," she chucked a thumb over her shoulder at the rampaging statue currently trying to decide which to swat, the pest in her face or the pest at ground level. "So if you fellas could coordinate clearing traffic so's we can get her up the street, we think we can stop Miss Liberty here. My partner's already running interference on the flying horse over there, and the Baroness is keeping her occupied. So if you could get on the comms and clear the street it'd prolly save lotsa lives and such, alrighty?"

Without waiting for a response, Jablonski turned back to the tourists, most of whom seemed to be enjoying the show. When she spoke, her voice was amplified by the speakers in her suit, and carried better than a bullhorn. "For your own safety, please stay on the sidewalks and clear the streets, folks. We know you don't want to miss a thing, but we don't want you to accidentally become part of the show. Clear the streets, please, and thank you!"

The security personnel stared dumbfounded for a second before they got on the comms, relaying what the Starfleet security officer had told them, as they began directing efforts to accommodate the trio of superhumans who were working on their somewhat unexpected grandiose spectacle of a problem which was marching down the strip in slow, heavy strides.

In spite of a few grumbles, the ogling tourists slowly began to scooch back out of the way of the enormous green, metal woman on Ethel's command as Hildr raced ahead on Rainbow Dash bobbing and weaving in a game of very one-sided chicken with the oncoming hovercars and busses that all cleared a path as she shouted. "MOVE! OR BE MOVED, DOUGHY MORTALS!! I HAVE SPOKEN!!!!"

Meanwhile, the Baroness was enjoying the mobility added to her Artan armor with her jump thrusters. weaving around the massive lady Liberty like a mad hornet, stinging her with lightning and cudgel strikes and trying to lure her up the street to where they wanted her. "This will be a deed worthy of song, ja?" she called out right before narrowly being missed by the torch of the giant maiden. Schwein just called down another small bout of lightning once more unto the crown of the animated statue for its trouble, eliciting yet another roar of twisting girders.

As the statue turned to swat at the Baroness, a type 3 phaser rifle appeared in the hands of the Starfleet security officer, and she pulsed a series of shots up the leg of the statue, hoping to gain its attention and keep it focused on moving forward, down the clearing street. The great green statue of old Earth legend was getting where they wanted her to go, she just wasn't getting there very quickly, and she was prone to try to turn to swat the Baroness as she flitted about on her thrusters.

Realizing that she had no comms with the winged steed mounted Valkyrie, Jablonski instead tuned in the Baroness' comms. "It looks like she really is pretty mad at you in particular, Baroness, doncha think? Can honk her off good and royally so she'll get her big green butt moving into position?"

"Ja, is not a problem," came the reply over the comms right before a static burst and a bright blue ball of lightning right to the face of the mobile landmark. "I think I have her full attention." With that, the flying gold and blue pirate hovered just out of reach to draw the walking statue towards where they wanted her.

Swooping back around on Rainbow Dash, Hildr ran the tip of her spear along the pavement causing it to spark and flame, attracting even more attention from the lumbering statue. "HO, you great green WHORE! Come face your BETTERS!!! My love, our path is right and truly cleared."

Looking up, the mighty Valkryie raised a brow as she watched the statue lunge at the hovering Schwein. "Behold, the behemoth hardly notices our efforts, brave Ethel. 'Tis focused squarely on the mighty Schwein... perhaps too focused. I smell magicks at work here. Magicks and trickery."

"Uh, durr?" the Starfleet security officer replied, taking the shieldmaiden of Odin's have to swing onto the back of the flying steed with little gracve nor aplomb. As a farm girl Jablonski knew animals just fine, but riding them in powered armor was a skill a bit beyond her upbringing. "Let's get into position up on the tower now that the street's cleared and Schwein is moving her along, and let's get Loki the show he's after."

Catching the expression over the shoulder of the massive shieldmaiden as she spurred her steed skyward, Jablonski rolled her eyes. "Come on, I serve a Goddess, so not hard to believe the unbelievable. I'm a security officer, so it's always motive and procedure, yannow? Plus the Commander gave us a full briefing just in case something like this was gonna happen... and here we are, with something crazy that shouldn't ought to be possible happening. How are you surprised I'm not surprised, Hildr?"

As the massive, winged horse circled to the top of the tower, touching down gently on their target, Hildr scoffed slightly. "You and your Commander are, then, a bit wiser than many in fabled Asgard, who give that damned trickster far too much latitude. I would not speak ill of the Lady Schwein's love, but his blindspot for Loki is as legendary as his great power. I am... not used to others being prepared for Loki's nonsense. It is as refreshing to me as every aspect of you I have discovered this eve."

As Hildr turned, she shot Ethel a surprisingly soft smile. "You have me smitten. But that is an affair for later, as we have our task to complete."

"Aw, take it easy now, wildcat. We've got plenty of time to get frisky and get to know each other, let's not start plannin' the wedding just yet, all righty?

As she said the words Jablonski dismounted, entirely ungracefully, and clattered to the tower on her back, where she lay for a second, looking up at the oddity of the flying horse and the actual factual Valkyrie with whom she was now engaged in an incident report to be written later. Lightning strobed, a precursor to a much larger strike, a telltale sign of any of the Baroness' electrical attacks carried like a signature. Even the smallest manifestation started with a tiny spark, a flicker before the storm. It lit up the handsome woman's smitten face, upside down to Jablonski's perspective. But is formed an indelible image in her mind she would remember until her dying day.

For a brief second as she coughed there on the ground, Ethel Jablonski marveled over where she was, what she was doing and what her life in Starfleet had brought her. Then a distant shudder from the footsteps of a leviathan roused her, and she collected her mass beneath her to launch herself back to her feet. Scanning the area, the security officer took in the readouts as she called the Luxor security, the pyramid that would likely need evacuation. If such a thing were possible on peaceful Risa, where most visitors were too relaxed to take threats seriously.

"For now, let's take inventory. I've got..." Jablonski paused while she checked her suit's readouts, asking it the capacity for two of the TRC-116 C2's she carried in inventory. "Yeppers, forty-six rounds of concussion grenades I can spit out on full auto about three per second. But with that much weight I don't think the math's gonna hold up, just not enough force for that much mass. I could try a spray of dum dums, wouldn't penetrate but the velocity'd still apply. I might be able to steer it a little?" While she was a Starfleet trained security officer who served on a very unusual starship, this was a bit beyond what she and her armaments were prepared for... although she was taking notes. "So what've you got for stopping power on this scale, Miss Fancy Horse?"

Looking at her massive spear, at Schwein throwing lightning at the massive, copper creature and then back at Ethel as her face twisted into a sly grin. Tapping the side of her gold winged headpiece, the modern Valkyrie opened a comm channel among the three of them. "I have a plan, ladies. My spear, indestructible and cast from the fires of Nidavellir, can channel and focus the power of your mighty Lightning, Mistress Schwein. That, coupled with Ethel's arsenal of explosives may be enough to topple this beast."

Looking at Rainbow Dash and the shield on her arm, Hildr continued her plan. "Just get that thing swinging wild to disrupt its balance and I shall plant my spear betwixt its eyes in that crown 'pon it''s brow. Then I shall position myself and Rainbow Dash behind it to give us the proper leverage needed to bring her low." Then she looked over at Ethel, who had already proven her strategic mind. "What say you?"

"Best plan I've heard all night, I'll say! Risan security has reinforced forcefields covering the pyramid, so we are a go for landing zone, and doncha know the Risans plan to get a frictionless forcefield underneath it in the parking lot until they can figure out how to deactivate it," Petty Officer Jablonski reported, scanning the scene and plotting hypotheticals before shoving them all to the side and paying attention to the moment. "After your first strafing run, pick me up. I've got an idea you're gonna like! Schwein, you down with this whackadoodle plan?"

"Ja, I like the plan, but we have to hurry. My jets are running low on fuel." As if on cue, one of Schwein's suit's thrusters sputtered just slightly, causing her to veer dangerously close to the green lady's head. Still, she avoided it and kept up the assault of lightning and smashes from her cudgel.

“Okie doke, let’s work fast then. Hildr, deploy and see if you can help lure Libby there into position!” It was nothing that Jablonski would not ask of one of her Security comrades, so of course she had no problem relaying the order to the Valkyrie. After all, they were all working toward a common goal at the moment, as comrades in arms. And if the Baroness’ jetpack was failing, they would be down one flyer soon enough. “Schwein, fall back to my position and let’s get ready to make Hildr’s plan happen, doncha know!”

"Aye! Thy will be done!" Hildr shouted as she threw herself upon her winged steed and with a kick and a loud, "HYAAA, RAINBOW DASH! AWAY!" She and her mighty mount lifted off the platform with a rush of force as she flew towards the face of the statue, buzzing it to get its attention.

Without further hesitation, Schwein ceased her attacks and landed herself right next to Ethel with a solid thump, one of her thrusters cutting out just as she did so. "I will have to request slightly larger fuel reserves when next I speak with the Asgardian artificers." Rather than keep up her attacks with her cudgel, she clipped it to her belt and checked over the status of her fuel and suit on her HUD. "I do have enough for another minute with low pressure."

“That should work just fine if Hildr can keep her attention over there… and yup, she does not like the flying horsie at all,” Jablonski observed as Hildr and Rainbow Dash wove in and about the angry snarling metallic leviathan. “Okay Schwein, once Hildr’s got her in position, we need you to jam a lightning bolt into her forehead big enough to stun her, doncha know. Then you launch and hit her, I’ll try to give her a nudge, then Hildr and I will make a few strikes to get her off her feet, and hopefully when the dust settles she’ll be unable to regain her feet, and she’ll stop trying to step on people. You with us, ya?”

Seeing that the other two were in position, Hildr spun back around for her final pass at the jade giantess as she tapped her comm and readied her spear. "I shall deliver the blow with my spear and position myself and Rainbow Dash behind the knees of this foul beast. Once I am in position, it falls to thee!"

"HYAAA!!! HYAAA!" Hildr kicked the sides of her mount firmly and reared back as the winged steed raced forward with near-impossible speed and certainty towards the roaring head of the living statue. As they got closer, the mighty Valkrye leaned to the side of her flying horse, and with a spin in mid-air, rammed the tip of her pear in the dead center of the crown with a shout. As she did, Rainbow Dash twisted upside down and began racing across the statues back. 

With the spear lodged tight in its head, the statue let out a sickening roar, the sound of twisted metal screaming in protest that caused the observers on the street to clutch their ears in pain. From behind the knees of the great behemoth, Hildr raised her mighty shield as she and her mount rushed in at ramming speed. On the comm, she shouted, "BRING THE THUNDER, LADIES!!!!"

Taking her cue, the mighty Baroness raised her cudgel to the sky once more and channeled as much raw lightning she could muster from the heavens above, through it, straight into the spear in the great landmark's forehead, which then acted as a lightning rod. "BY THE POWER OF THOR ALMIGHTY I COMMAND YOU TO REST!!!" The sheer volume of electrical fury that raged about the blue and gold armored pirate was so great, it made the hair of bystanders on the street nearby stand on end.

At the same instance, Ethel unloaded the explosive payloads of her armaments into their target as planned, while Hildr and her winged mount rammed he green giant in the back of the legs as hard as they could. The living statue let out a roar of agony that sounded like the hull of a starship being twisted into a knot, as rivets within the great metallic green golem popped and exploded from the torque being exerted upon them. Aas the roar fell silent and its eyes seemed to glaze back, it toppled backwards as planned, crashing into the force-field shielded black glass pyramid with a wrenching thud that shook the entire strip.

The air smelled of ozone and a plume of smoke was kicked up from the massive explosions of concussion grenades, but after a moment, Rainbow Dash and Hildr dragged themselves out from beneath the legs of the fallen statue. Scuffed and disheveled, but with a shake, appearing none the worse for wear as the statue, at last, seemed still.

Flopping back on her derriere, Schwein popped the helmet of her armor open and belted out a great laugh. "So do the rules of what happens in Vegas apply or may we sing of this feat in the festhalls?"

“Ohhhh, I think beating up the Statue of Liberty on the Space Vegas Strip is a tale for the history books, Miss Schwein,” Jablonski chuckled, offering the pretty pirate a hand up. As she did so, in the background the farm girl from the high-G world heard a somehow familiar roar, and she scanned the horizon, looking for another threat.

“Nope- just the Monsters of Tokyo arcology one over. That’s actually part of the show, so I think we might just have this battle won,” the muscular maiden mused. “Say Hildr,are you and your horsie okay? Are we triumphant?”

Mounting Rainbow Dash, who fluttered his wings and carried them back up to the top of the tower in a trail of smoke and debris, the gilded Valkryie tapped her comm with a broad smile. "The beast is smote, my steed and I are unharmed, and my appetite is renewed..."

Landing on the platform, Hildr reached down and stroked Ethel's chin with a spark of passion in her eyes, "...in more ways than one. Is there not to be a feast this eve? To refuel us for our next... battle?"

"Ja, I am told Rita has arranged a mighty feast fit for Odin," Schwein confirmed, a chuckle building as she got back to her feet and slapped both of them on the shoulders knowingly. "We will eat, drink, and once those needs are slaked we will be merry long into this night!"

“I sure as heck didn’t expect all this,” Jablonski gestured, encompassing the scope of the chaos they had just quelled. “But I gotta admit, the Commander sure does know how to throw a party…”

Strutting back from the bar, Rita Paris was having fun. A gaggle of girls... women, really, she corrected herself... had all come together on a cosmic limo ride and were separated off into smaller subgroups, each off having adventures, as such events and crossovers tended to go. As for herself, she had gotten tired of the dance floor and the jostling at the bar. Sweating in the leather jacket, she had shucked it, leaving her clad in the black tank dress that stretched halfway to her knees. Effortlessly eyecatching, she hiked up her boobs in the bra, slung the jacket over her shoulder and led the expedition away from the bar to the civilized lounge she'd seen on the way into the club.

Ivory and gold dominated the room, while colorful carpet and crushed red velvet chairs offered a quiet oasis from the club below. Dropping her jacket on a chain, she caught Hera's shoulder on the way by. "Hold our seats, please, and I'll get us some drinks?"

Without waiting for the answer, Rita was in motion, gliding along to the bar. Her steps were somewhat 'runway' style, crisscrossing in front of one another to compensate for the cuffed boots. But Rita Paris worked the Baccarat Lounge, and the Baccarat Lounge loved her right back. Seldom was it that she allowed herself the luxury of taking in the eyes of those who appreciated the humanoid form. She wasn't the taste for everyone, of course- in a universe of infinite variety, no one being was the perfect match for the optimal attraction quotient for all sentients.

But for most of the human-like species, Rita Paris was indeed what they liked. She knew it, and for just a minute or two, far from her responsibilities and out of uniform, the time-tossed temptress reveled in it.

Strutting back to the table, blushing and grinning, she bore a rather prodigious jug of wine in one hand and a quartet of glasses in the other.

As Hera retrieved the glasses from Rita, her grin said it all. Still, she insisted on the commentary. "My dear, if Aphrodite were here with us today, I believe you would have made even her faint with jealousy just now."

"You are entirely too kind," Rita grinned at the compliment. "Honestly, I seldom get to actually do this sort of thing, so it seemed like the time and the place to show off a little, you know? Besides, none of my impressionable junior officers appear to be about, so I don't have to worry about setting an example. Since I planned the outing, I got them to hunt this up for me ahead of time."

Popping the cork on the big jug, Rita carefully maneuvered it to pour into the glasses Hera held for it, only spilling a little. When three were filled, she set the jug on the table, dusted herself off a bit, then sat don demurely, knees together, like a woman who lives in a short skirt who understood modesty and decorum. reaching out to take the delicate wineglass in her outstretched fingers, Paris offered a toast to the two goddesses who had accompanied her to the comfortable lounge for a civilized drink.

"Real grapes, real vintner, not replicated nor an imitation. They are earth grapes, they were just grown and pressed sixty-seven lightyears from their planet of origin. But I seem to recall that an offering of real wine is an offering that you can appreciate, and hopefully you as well, Loki. So cheers- here's to a night out, AND a night off." Raising her glass, the Starfleet siren smiled at her companions for the evening.

Meeting each woman's gaze, the tall and striking trickster Goddess flipped her Raven hair over her shoulder, her gilded and horned helm delicately perched on the rear of her seat. Clinking each glass in turn, she replied in French, "A la nôtre."

Taking a sip, she savored the taste a moment before leaning back and crossing her long legs with a wry smile. "There is a value to the real thing, Miss Paris, to be sure, that beings such as us find strength in the offering. The real thing possesses a bit of its maker in it. You know the phrase, I'm sure. Of how an artist puts their soul into their work. It is in that, we find sustenance."

"And good drink is it's own reward, regardless. Though, were I you, I would be weary of compliments that measure you against fair Aphrodite. It never ended well as I recall. The woman is so touchy about her looks." Loki joked with a grin.

"When it's your folio, best defend it or you lose it, I am sure," Paris replied, formulating the appropriate response. "But Aphrodite has no need to be concerned over me. Hera is the only one who ever draws such a comparison, and I'm no Aphrodite by a long chalk. A little too human, a little too flawed, and I do not possess an ounce of the grace with which she carries herself, I'm sure. It is just Hera being complimentary as she does, for which I am grateful, but I am sure the goddess of beauty and love is secure in her position... assuming she's still on the mortal coil and listening."

Pausing at that, Paris turned to Hera. "As one of your... step... daughters, would you know if she was still at large in this day and age? Was the power that brought you forth used to bring her back as well?"

"Unfortunately, I know not her ultimate fate, nor have I felt her presence since my return," replied the matronly elder goddess as she sipped at her wine. "I have felt the presence of my former husband and several others, however. I would most likely surmise that she threw herself into one of the seas like she was wont to do, and refused to come out, having lost faith in humanity."

With a light chuckle, Loki shook her head. "We and our kind are the dramatic sorts, aren't we? Nothing is ever done in half-measures when we can fling ourselves into the sea or gouge out our eyes for wisdom?"

"Or turn someone into a spider for their blatant hubris," Hera added with a chuckle. "Oh goodness, it's no wonder they invented theatre because of us."

"Ha! Too true, Lady Hera. Too true." Loki laughed, taking a sip of her drink and looking around the room. "Theater is not quite the same as worship, but when it keeps our names on the lips of mortals, it is appreciated nonetheless. Especially when we are well cast."

"How has renewed vigor treated you, I must ask?" Loki leaned in to the matronly Goddess, who no longer required extensive glamours to look younger or more vibrant. "You look well. There were many within the halls of Asgard that were unpleased with me for providing assistance, and while that's usually enough of a reason for me to do a thing, I took a special interest in your rather unique situation."

"Though I admit a certain curiosity to your motivation, I will leave that to you to reveal in your own time if you wish," Hera replied with a slight bow of her head. "For now, you have my gratitude and thanks. I have not felt this young in an age. Indeed, if my adopted daughter would allow it, I would spend all the time I'm allowed at her side redeeming myself thanks to this newfound freedom, thanks in no small part to you and yours. There is much I would atone for."

With a Cheshire cat's grin on her face, Loki spared a glance for Rita as she took another sip of wine. The mortal in the conversation had nothing in particular to add, and didn’t have a need to draw attention to herself in the conversation. In truth, it was seldom that Hera got to be chatty with another being such as herself, even from different pantheons In this encounter, for now, Rita Paris was content to sit and listen as Loki expounded a bit.
"My reasons are legion and... mercurial... for doing anything, as well you know. Sometimes, a moment's entertainment is cause enough in a life as long-lived as ours. Still, can you not look at your position and see how I might find something kindred within it? The monarch of Meroset who would have set the galaxy ablaze in her rage, finds that rage quenched in the forgiveness of a single mortal woman?"

"In working to earn that forgiveness, you gave of yourself over and over. Awakening the young El-Aurian demi-God? Aiding the Andorian woman who found herself bonded to the armor of Achilles? Offering to awaken the young Romulan girl now linked to Death's aspect. Giving of your own aspect to empower the brave Ethel? Forgiving the spawn of your husband, and helping those two unlikely sowers of chaos nurture a Minotaur babe? Linking yourself to Miss Paris here in so unbreakable a manner? All these things weakened your personal power, yet imbued you with great strength." Loki looked hard at the Goddess across her. "This all gave the All-Father pause and gave me... inspiration. Considering my own history, I do love a good redemption tale… and yours has shaken the pillars of Olympus, and those echoes are heard all the way to Asgard, my dear."

"Well..." Hera swirled her wine in her glass a bit before sipping at it thoughtfully. "I don't know about all that. Things just sort of… happened."

"Come now, wise Hera... you know better than that. We have both dined with the very Fates themselves. Nothing just happens." Loki leaned in and tilted her head with a dismissive expression. "Well, except where your... adopted daughter is concerned."

"Indeed, they seem to have no control over you for whatever reason." Hera turned to address Rita directly at this point, a bit of an odd look on her face. "In fact, I'd bet that Odin himself would not be able to divine your fortune with that eye of wisdom of his."

Eyes flickering back and forth between the two immortal beings, Rita lowered her wineglass to consider the implications. “I guess I am a wild card in the deck, then? The girl who was never supposed to be here, never supposed to exist, from a timeline that now never was, somehow exists outside the universe’s plans and the web of the Fates? I suppose that makes sense… but don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head. I’ll just keep doing as I’ve done- trying to help people get along, see the light, and build a better future for us all.”

Reaching over to pat Hera’s hand, Rita smiled, one of those light-up-the-room affairs. “As for your redemption, that was all your doing. Had you not noticed? I never asked for you to help any of those whom you have helped. I never tried to sway your thinking one way or another- all I ever did was ask you to be better than you were. All that you have accomplished, and all of the good that you’ve done, was all your own choices, made freely and of your own volition. I’m proud of you, sure, but really? You’re happier now. You have people who care about you, lives you have touched and changed for the better, and you honestly seem content with the life you lead now, helping us mortals in our struggles, advising us and being there to listen when we need you.”

“Honestly, when I asked you to be the goddess I could tell my children about, I never imagined just how completely you would fulfill that request… but that you have, and more. I will forever be grateful to you, Hera. Because you showed me that my faith in the universe, and in the good in people, was still rewarded. You gave me hope, in a universe that could have been just as dark and ugly as Meroset was, and for that, I will always be grateful.” Patting the goddess's hand, Paris gave a little squeeze before settling back into her seat. “Sorry… I do go on a bit when I am passionate about a topic…”

The elderly goddess couldn't help but pull at a handkerchief and pat at her now moist eyes before smiling into the eyes of Rita.

Watching the interaction between the two, there was the slightest of flashes in Loki's eyes that almost looked like envy, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, less than a flash in the proverbial pan. Then, with grin fully restored, the dark Goddess looked at her empty glass and tapped the side of it with her finger. As she did, it quickly refilled, while the contents of the bottle on the table lowered slightly to match.

Then, taking another sip, she turned back to Rita and tilted her head. "I would not, were I you, discount so impactful a gift as being off of Fate's books. It is a trait not even your mate from your own reality or the other Vulcan woman share. It's enough to make a Trickster covetous."

"This is very true. They may be able to bend the books, but you have the power to flat out ignore them," Hera confirmed. "I've overheard the aspects arguing over rewriting the futures of very planets thanks to your actions. I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of hearing the Rabbit raise her voice before then."

“Mmmm,” Rita replied, taking a sip from her own glass and savoring the flavor. Considering the conversation, she saw the best course to tack into the wind with it and see where the goddesses wished to go with the topic. I wonder who the Rabbit is? When in doubt, ask. “It’s an interesting balancing act, then. Too little heed paid to my… circumstance, for which I can take no credit, and I risk angering the Powers That Be. Too much confidence in it and claiming ownership, I risk hubris, and incurring the wrath of said powers. Seems I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. So where’s the appropriate compromise between the two, I wonder?”

"You exist. They cannot contain you nor will they try, so they will continue to work around you. Worry not about the paperwork others may have to attend to as a result, and concern yourself only with doing what you must as situations present themselves- as you always have." Loki said, almost scoffing dismissively. "You keep things interesting, my dear. And some of these aspects, I have on good authority, are pleased with the changes they have had to account for."

"I know I am." Loki said with a devilish grin.

“For instance?” Paris asked, her curiosity piqued. While this was apparently old hat and well known to the supernatural set, this was all news to Rita, who had to admit to considerable curiosity. Thus the simplest of questions might net the greatest results.

"I am, of course, not at liberty to speak for these aspects, but I can certainly speak about them all I wish." Loki smiled with a light chuckle as she swirled the wine in her glass. "The Rabbit Hera speaks of is TIME. Your Captain has met this aspect, as has your Romulan friend. You preventing your Captain from killing her mother caused a massive shift in the fates of literally millions. Your rescue of the Romulan girl from her homeworld kept a few thousand more lives in the universe living a fair bit longer than they otherwise would have. I'm not privy to all the details, but I've heard the rumblings. Fate rewrote many lives because of those two events alone, and to hear them speak of it, they were quite pleased to re-write better paths for your influence."

"But you grasp this core concept. Everything we do has the potential to alter the course of fate. Even those grim fates were never guaranteed to come to pass. Free will still exists, after all. Even the Gods cannot change that. Nothing is ever truly set in stone for mortals so long as your minds are free." Loki smiled, a bit more warmly. "That is your greatest gift to the universe. You specifically... are simply that much less predictable. You see... the fates can path out our many possible lives. All the ways one decision might affect the rest of our existence. But for you, they can see no paths, for you have no destiny laid out before you- not here. As such, they cannot see how you may affect the paths of others."

"Others such as your Captain, your Romulan friend, the Lady Hera here... or even me." Loki added, the warm smile becoming that much more sly.

Digesting the information, Rita considered it, weighed it objectively, then realized it was of no concern to her. If the Fates didn’t recognize her and could not predict her, that left them in the same boat as the rest of the mortal universe. It wouldn’t change how she approached her missions, nor would it change how she comported herself amongst gods and commoners. She would remain true to who she was, and she would continue to act according to her own idealistic moral compass, forged in the golden age of Starfleet. However, the gender-fluid god was clearly hinting at something. Since Rita was unaware of anything she might have done-

Which was when it hit her. If her presence was rewriting events, then Death and the Baroness would never have been parted- not without Hera’s help, not without Rita’s help. Thus Schwein would never have met Thor, would never have become betrothed, and thus the Asgardian hierarchy was forever altered because she existed. In saving the swashbuckling super-soldier from being married to death, then encouraging her to compete for Thor’s affection, she had literally reshaped the destiny of the Asgardians.

Of whom Loki was counted amongst.

That was one level of the conversation, she now understood. Was Loki still after the throne of Asgard after all these centuries? Was this what tonight’s appearance was all about? Best to not prognosticate too much, she reasoned. Trying to outwit a god with ten times her lifespan who was known for mischief, trickery and charm was likely not a contest in which she was going to come out ahead. Instead, she’d do as she often did, and play the game at face value.

“So have I altered your life for weal or woe, Loki, I am curious?” Rita asked plainly and honestly, following her own modus operandi of truth and honest discussion.

"In the grand scope of things, I could not say..." Loki waved dismissively with one hand, "But in this very moment, absolutely. Was it not you who talked the Lady Schwein into pursuing my brother's heart? As such, this very evening occurs because of you, and I am glad for it "

“Yes. Yes, it was,” Rita replied, on guard now. The god of mischief was being coy, and it was most definitely rubbing Rita the wrong way. While she’d not be rude nor would she confront him… her… unless absolutely necessary, the hairs on the back of her neck were beginning to stand up, and she surreptitiously checked their surroundings, expecting trouble. Noting where the exits were located, she wished she had her own Hera bracers for tonight, instead of the Asgardian ones she had packed out of deference to the bride to be. Then her armaments and weaponry would be familiar to her if Loki decided to make trouble. As it was, she couldn’t be certain that she could get herself and Hera out of here, isolated from the rest of the crew.

Stupid, Rita, stupid. You let him get the two of you alone like this, now you’re cut off from reinforcements as he starts his little game. Wits and speed, girlie, that’s what you’ve got on your side, and he’s got you beat on both. So play it cool and see what he wants.

"What Loki is trying to say is..." As she spoke, Hera raised her hands into the air and created a sort of holographic representation of the universe's timeline with many branches coming off of it, all of them vanishing soon after leaving. "This universe is but one among the polyverse and the aspects keep it from branching off infinitely and cluttering up null space with dead universes so that the infinite universes that already exist can get the nutrition that they need."

The goddess of family then poked at the line, tweaking it just slightly, causing it to shift from a blue to more of a gold. "You're causing events which will be felt throughout this galaxy and possibly the universe for the rest of its life simply through your existence. Your work with Log'yerm alone brought many high powered beings back into play for ages to come. Beings like myself. Some were twisted like I was at first, but I feel that many, once released, are now dedicating themselves to positive endeavors."

"I know a few of the aspects that have lost their memories of mortality who argue against your influence, but the overall good that you've done is unquestionable." The matronly goddess then closed her hands, the small display vanishing with a few sparks. "And that's why when you expire, there's going to be quite the fiasco. I suspect even the continuum will get involved.”

“Hopefully still a ways off,” Rita muttered to herself, marveling at the fact that one simple Human Starfleet officer was the topic of so much debate on such a scale. “So since I’m playing catch-up here, who are the Continuum?”

"The Q Continuum, I assume," Loki said, rolling her eyes. "Nigh omnipotent meddlers that occasionally pester your people from time to time. Frankly, they make the mischief I'm known for pale in comparison, my dear. Be glad you've not attracted any of their attention. Even I find them insufferable."

"Duly noted," Rita replied, making a mental note to look this up in the database later. The joy of being ill-informed was that there was usually a wealth of information to be had on any subject, so long as you know the question. It seemed Rita's life still provided her with plenty of questions, fortunately. "So this has all bogged down in talk of defying destiny and cheating fate and omnipotent beings. Is there some reason for all of this frankly depressing discussion on what's supposed to be a fun night out of getting to know one another?"

"Well, I suppose that falls in part upon my shoulders." Loki shrugged. "When you let Goddesses go on about things we do tend to go on about matters of cosmic scope. However, I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I didn't have a unique interest in you on both a cosmic scale and a personal one, Rita Paris. I was quite curious as to the nature of the woman who reformed a god driven mad with naught but her compassion."

"But please, accept my apologies for disrupting the evening and causing you undue tension that you would be checking the exits from the corner of your eyes." Loki said, an apology wrapped in observation of Rita's earlier anxiety at the same time. "I stand very guilty of being what I am, even when I am not trying to be. But you are correct. This is to be an evening of festivities. If you wish, you may turn the tables on me with impunity. What would you know of Loki this evening?"

"I should apologize as well. When you're as old as I am, sometimes the course of the universe is one of the more interesting things to chat about. Even Loki here is but a rebellious teen in my eyes." With a motherly grin, Hera got that look in her eyes that said she wanted to tell an embarrassing story. "Speaking of knowing more about our dear Loki here... Did you know that when you were a babe, your mother had a dickens of a time keeping you from shifting into all sorts of things? Why she once found you in the form of a sheep cuddled around your brother outside trying to keep him warm because neither of you had the sense to come in from the cold."

"If you two would like to continue, it's all right," Rita offered, attempting to make it a breezy offering. "Really, Hera gets out very seldom, and she almost never gets to mingle socially with her actual peers. So I'm glad you two are having time to chat, and I don't want to deny you that. It just seemed as though you were working on oh-so-slyly making your way to a point, Loki. Unless I'm mistaken?" While she was working to keep the tone light, the reassurances were not reassuring, and being Rita Paris, it showed. Perched on the edge of her seat, muscles tensed, she was still ready to spring into action at the first sign of the trouble she now anticipated. "Your interest, in a cosmic and personal scale, is neither easily roused nor satisfied, I would expect?"

"I know well of the sheep tale, as it has been told to me many a time, Dear Hera." Loki said, shrugging casually but allowing a bit of embarrassment to show for a moment before taking another sip. "And, to address your concerns, Miss Paris, yes. I was making my way to a point. I do not wish to sour our evening with talk of business, but perhaps it will alleviate your concerns to know that I have given much thought to the boon you have offered me in exchange for what I have done to restore our mutual friend here to her vigor."

Here it comes, Rita braced herself, making a show of sitting back in her seat and relaxing, while she was doing no such thing. “If you are wanting to share, then by all means, Loki, please do so.”

"Know that I will ask of you nothing that would cause you to go against your morals or code. I will not ask you to help me seize a throne, or take something from another. Learning of you now, I would not even consider such a thing as it would be an affront to you, and to the spirit with which I offered my aid to great Hera. No... what I will ask of you is simple enough." Loki set her wine down and folded her hands, taking on a more serious posture. "At some point in our mutual future, I will be faced with some dilemma. A challenge that the fates will have stacked against me, with consequences affecting only myself, my life and freedom. I will then call upon you and ask, simply, for your help in escaping a potentially grim fate, though I know not what that yet will be."

"You, my dear, are a cosmic wild card. Your involvement in any scenario changes near-certain odds to 50 percent. That... will be all that I ask for." Loki spread her hands and offered Rita a bow. "One day, Loki will ask you to help her somehow. I will leave exactly how up to you. But what I will ask of you is that you say yes."

Listening with her head leaning slightly against her outstretched fingers, arm resting on the arm of the chair, Rita read between the lines. Facing a dilemma, a challenge, fates stacked against him. Likely a crime he has committed or will commit, which he won’t ask you to participate in the crime, but will enlist you to try to get out of it. It doesn’t really matter though, does it? Leaning in, Paris looked out from under her brows at the god of mischief.

“When I learned Hera was dying, I imposed upon the Baroness for a favor, to request it of the Asgardians. I agreed to pay any price, knowing what that could conceivably cost me. You people are vastly older, more knowledgeable, more experienced, and more powerful than I, on a scale that I cannot even begin to comprehend. So I knew that it could very well cost me dearly, and it still might.” Picking up her chin and sitting up straight, Paris tugged at the hem of her short skirt, a habit born of a lifetime spent doing so.

“I made a promise,” Rita explained to the ancient galactic being whose reputation preceded them. “I didn’t offer my honor as an officer, nor my personal guarantee. I gave my word- where I come from, that still means something, so I would help you regardless. But beyond all of that, I’m Starfleet. You may be new to Starfleet and how we do things, Loki, but that’s the promise of Starfleet. We come to help, and if you ask for help, whoever you are, wherever you are, we do our best to do just that. So, in that theoretical circumstance in an undefined future which I suspect you know far more about than you are letting on, should you ask for my help, and your cause is not ignoble… then, of course, I’ll help,” she concluded simply, adding, ”I’m Starfleet. That’s what we do.”

"Because with Starfleet, you're never alone," added the matronly goddess with a meaningful gaze at the known trickster as she reached out and took Rita's hand in her own. For her part, Rita beamed a smile at the goddess of women. Simply hearing the words from the reformed tyrant brought a smile to her face, and warmed her heart. Clearly Hera had been paying attention all this time, and the ancient astronaut was oddly proud of the goddess in that moment. Squeezing the hand in her own, Rita nodded silently as she smiled.

"Indeed. Then it is said, and settled." Loki said in a relaxed tone, with an almost dismissive hand gesture. "And I am glad for it to be behind us, for as you said, tonight is to be a night of revelries. Tonight, I need not call on any debts to be owed, and I have no intention of doing so anytime soon. So let us be merry, one and all."

Picking her drink back up, the goddess of Mischief and trickery clearly had more knowledge than she was willing to part within the moment, but seemed direct enough as she changed the subject. "So, my offer from earlier still stands. The lady Hera has already spoken of my the so-called ‘sheep incident’, which as I call it that, I realize makes it sound FAR more scandalous then it was. Ask me what you will? I would speak as friends and equals again."

In that moment, Rita made her choices, as she was wont to do- quickly, decisively and without hesitation. “Tonight isn’t about revisiting the past, and telling tales. Tonight is for making new memories, having new adventures, making new friends and celebrating-“

The buxom bombardier was interrupted by a shudder that seemed seismic in nature, which shook the entire hotel. “Ordinarily I would be concerned, but I suspect that is the Baroness making some memories herself, right now. Shall we find an exterior balcony where we might take in just what’s going on out there?” Paris reached over, picked up her wineglass and stood smoothly.

Standing up as well, and striking the most regal of postures imaginable, Loki waved a hand over her helm and it vanished in a sparkle as she picked up her own glass. But all the while, there was the slightest of inscrutable expressions upon her generally unreadable facade. Whatever had just occurred appeared to be a surprise to her as well as anyone. "Indeed. That was a... most curious sensation to be sure. After you, Lady Hera."

With a worried look on her face, Hera finished her wine and set the glass to the side before standing and heading to the nearby balcony to see what the commotion was. When she did, one hand went to her mouth in shock. "Well, that's something I never expected to see in this age..."

Immediately, the expression of bemused disinterest Loki had on her face as her eyes went wide at the sight that had caused the entire faux-Las Vegas strip to stop in its tracks. The goddess' mouth hung open for a moment as she looked across the wide avenue to see the sight of the massive replica of the Statue of Liberty, stretched diagonally as it lay on it's back against the black steel and glass replica of the Luxor pyramid. On the street below, thousands stared in awe, snapping holos at the unexpected sight as smoke cleared from what looked to be an epic struggle.

Looking over at Hera and Rita, then back to the bizarre tableau, the Goddess of mischief took a massive swig of her wine and said, in a distressed tone, "That... that was NOT me."

“You know, I believe you,” Rita replied, taking a sip of her own wine. “If I didn’t know better I’d suspect Gavarus and O’Dell. But in this case, with a giant monster defeated and… look, here comes another one on the horizon. That’s definitely gotta be the Baroness at work- I suspect she’s the only one who could knock down something quite so large, and create that much of a spectacle. Which I suspect means she is enjoying the hell out of her bachelorette.”

While there could conceivably have been a panicked call to arms, the curvaceous commander was instead quite calm and relaxed, despite the chaos involved. In point of fact, she had expected shenanigans such as this to be a component of the evening. Discovering that was exactly what was happening, if anything, just reaffirmed her worldview.

Inside the Lily Bar & Lounge, inside the Bellagio hotel, against the par leaned a giant space pig, while beside her on a stool sat what looked suspiciously like her ventriloquist's dummy. Both were clad in identical narrow-lapelled black suit jackets and slacks, with white shirts and thin black ties. A pair of black sunglasses was attempting to hold back the tide of bright red curls of the dummy on the stool, who reached for a bottle of beer to take a tiny sip, then belch. Next to her, the stellar swine emptied her beer, then slammed it on the bar.

"Dead soldier over here, buddy. Gimme two this time and save yerself the trip, slow learner."

All about them in the lounge, a number of similarly-dressed patrons of varying subtle differences on humanity lounged about, although a few of them seemed to be getting nervous about something, communicating with others of their similarly-garbed brethren in hurried hushed whispers.

Despite her onsetting inebriation, the tiny test pilot on the stool had a finely tuned sense of danger, as a small mammal who dwelled amongst those much larger than herself. Looking around, she frowned. "Fook's goin on?"

Knitting her brows, Gavarus looked around at the odd assemblage of increasingly anxious grouping. Putting the black sunglasses on that had been in the pocket of her slick, black jacket, the porcine engineer tapped the side, activating the hidden tricorder scanning functions to confirm that every other patron in a matching suit was, indeed, packing high powered weapons. "Uh... riiiight."

Leaning over to whisper to her pint-sized partner, the portly porcine muttered under her breath. "Yeah, they're all the other assassins that were called in by that weird-ass Orion chick to go after that Andorian Heiress."

As they were talking, they both noticed the Risan security teams were beginning to make their way through the group, casually approaching and trying to subtly detain the hired guns on the furthest edge of the lounge and lobby. "The assassins dressed like us." Gavarus gulped as she realized the potential problem.

“Ah shite,” O’Dell replied, putting two and two together. “Alreet… so we’ve got Starfleet ID, we did work with the security forces on this, and we’ll be cleared, but I’ll be knackered if we’re g’win ta spend the rest of our bloody night off explainin’ alla that to some resort security that’s nae all that innerested in the truth. Alreeet chum, time fuir us to get thee to a gift shop If we kin make it oot the hotel, we should be able to find a tourist trap to get somethin’ to let us blend in wi’ the locals, aye? The ones that are NOT bein’ arrested…”

"Yeah, good idea. And, in the meantime..." Gavarus took off her black jacket and tucked her shades into the Brest pocket of her white shirt, tossing the suddenly too noticeable garment in the trash receptacle behind the bar when the bartender was occupied on the other end. "We can always replicate another set of these back on the ship. C'mon, let's get the hell out of here."


"Aye, good plan, good plan." Taking the cue, O’Dell wriggled out of her suit jacket, tie and white button-down shirt on one smooth motion, shucking them all to be left standing there in a ‘wifebeater’ t-shirt and her slacks. Placing the sunglasses back atop her head to keep her mop of curls in check, the lithe little lass handed her beer up to her much taller porcine partner, as they began ambling casually toward an exit, whistling innocuously.

Making there way out of the bar and past security successfully, the rotund Tellarite let out a sigh of mild relief as she spotted the resort giftshop across the lobby. As they started towards the entrance, the sensitive ears picked up a familiar sound from the bank of lifts against the far wall of the hotel lobby. An angry, guttural muttering growl.

Glancing over her shoulder, the portly engineer's eyes just about pooped out of her head as, through the crowd, she saw the thick white-furred from of the maffia Mugato, Pancriato. The same Mugato the unlikely duo tricked into helping them uncover and thwart the kidnapping plot not a half-hour ago.

As he hadn't yet caught sight of them, Gavarus ducked down as far as she could, grabbed Fiona by the arm and ducked quickly into the gift shop to avoid being seen. "Shit, shit, shit, shit! It's whitey. The Mugato asshat. Pan... Pancakeio, or something. What the effin' f***."

“Ah, shite! The monkey mob Mugatu? I woulda thought he’da been arrested, but I guess he dinna actually commit a crime. Although if he catches up with us, he’s liable to commit a few… fook! Alreet, alreet…. I got it!” Grabbing items seemingly at random, O’Dell began shoving them into Gavarus’ arms- a big sun hat, large tourist sunglasses, some yoga pants, and a few souvenir t-shirts. “Go, change, I’ll be in with ye in a tic, I joost gotta get the rest of our disguise together, and he’s a lot less likely to spot me than thee. Go, go!”

Running to the changing room in the back, Gavarus was fumbling with the assortment of clothing that was threatening to topple out of her arms and all over the place. "Shit, shit, shit..." she muttered as she snuck behind the changing curtain and began going about changing as quickly as she could. As she did, she took off the white shirt she was wearing and winced as she realized that she had thrown out the small phaser she had in her jacket pocket along with the coat, as well as the Nausicaan's disruptor, which had been kind of a hunk of junk anyway. A phaser registered to the Hera that she hoped had already been replicated into it's particulate matter with the rest of the trash. However, that meant she was that much less able to defend herself OR Fiona if the fuming Mugato noticed them.

A feat which would be admittedly difficult in the ensemble Fiona had haphazardly grabbed. Quickly yanking her long, platinum blonde hair out of the braids that Fiona has so lovingly put them in before they left, she let her massive mane of frizzy hair poof out wide as she struggled to tug on the yoga pants, which were a garish blend of neon green and neon pink which clashed terribly with the undersized novelty T-Shirt that was a baby blue with the logo of the hotel emblazoned on it that stretched across her plump chest making the letters warp to be near unreadability.

A mop of curls peeked beneath the stall of the changing room, then Fiona burst in. "Ach! Here, the layered look is in," she said tossing a large white t-shirt that could fit their entire family into, which hung off her shoulder and made the weirdly tiny undershirt work for her. Meanwhile, O'Dell was shoving a stroller inside with them. Pulling on a bonnet to shove her hair into, O'Dell began folding herself into the stroller. "Desperate times call fuir desperate measures, aye? Pull alla the price tags off so we're nae shopliftin. We kin put it on Starfleet sugar momma's tab, y'ken?"

Grabbing the tags and collecting them, Gavarus peaked out to see if the Mugato was out there. She couldn't see him from where she was, but then she looked down and finally process what her diminutive partner was doing. "Wait? Are you serious?! What am I supposed to do? Push you around in that thing like you're Minnie or something? Oh my gods, this is nuts."

"Ye've got a better plan fuir sneakin oot past him I'm all ears! But a great big Tellarite gal and a wee leprechaun are fairly easy ta spot in a crowd, particularly if yuir motivated. And I saw the way that big gorilla plowed into that room. He looked downreet motivated!" Shoving clothes and flip flops in underneath her, O'Dell pulled a blanket up over herself as she hunched up in the fetal position in which she usually slept. "Alreet, pay fuir everything and let's get doown the road, aye?"

"Okay... if we're gonna do this. Let's do this so we can get outta here." Gavarus said, pressing her sinuses and taking a deep breath.

With the blanket pulled up to cover her and half her face, O'Dell did look somewhat like a baby, if one ignored the size of her disproportionately large noggin, even with the hair under restraint. However, in scale to Gavarus, it kinda worked. Rooting around beneath her, O'Dell poked a bony arm upward, delicate hand holding a one-piece visor that bore the LPGA logo. "Eh?"

Under normal circumstances, Gavarus would have let out a snort of a laugh at the bizarre sight. Instead, she just let out an awkward chuckle as she pushed the pram out into the store to the cashier. Out of the corner of her eye, the twitchy Tellarite noticed the mammoth Mugato still mulling about the lobby, looking over every person a black suit, clearly searching for the two of them.

Slapping the removed tags onto the counter, the perplexed cashier looked at them then up to the two-meter tall space pig. "Uh... Will... Will this be all... Ma'am?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Just... Just put it on our room tab. We're in the party with... Whatsherface... Swine Van... Ascott? Alcott. The Von Alcott party. It's an open tab, just hurry it up, lady. We got vacationing to vacation."

After a few moments, the cashier finalized their order and the portly Porcine pushed the precocious pretended in the pram into the lobby, with an eye on the open exit. "Okay... Think... think BABY thoughts, Fee."

"Fookin' wah," the curled up passenger muttered, then considered for a second. Alla them years'a voice coachin...

A reasonable imitation of a delighted sound followed by a raspberry that Minnie Moo, the couple's improbable daughter came from under the blanket in the stroller. Close enough to make Gavarus do a double-take as she hustled along, scooting her tiny hooves in short but rapid steps across the lobby toward the exit.

The big gorilla swung his horns her way, but was put off by the very different profile of the Rubenesque rump roast disguised as a tourist mom. With her fro free to the wind after having been in complex braids all day, guided by the visor it was now spiral permed, at least for the next few hours. Scooting along with the baby stroller, nothing about Briaar Gavarus gave Procasio(?) the Mugatu enough recognition to place her as one of the Reservoir Dogs protocol assassins whose hostage had beaten him senseless while dressed like an escort.

Their ploy successful, Gavarus exited out into the night, even as O'Dell fidgeted and squirmed underneath the blanket.

"Holy frickin' shit. We made it, Fee. F***, I thought we were fricking' screwed in there." Gavarus exclaimed loudly with a heavy sigh. And as she did, a family of prissy looking humans walking past let out an audible gasp.

"I can't believe you talk like that to your BABY! the mother or the most brood exclaimed with exaggerated indignation while the Tellarite tourist knitted her brows in irritation.

"Fookin bitch!" squealed the redheaded infant in delight. "Dipshit! Rutabega! Pbbbblt!"

As the prissy family was left behind them with mouths agape in shock, O'Dell finished squirming, then her bare feet projected out of the stroller, followed by her bony legs. "Alreety, stop, aye." she asked, and when Gavarus obliged, O'Dell stood, dressed in some cargo shorts, a bright blue t-shirt bearing the legend WHAT HAPPENS IN SPACE VEGAS STAYS IN SPACE VEGAS. Pulling the bonnet off her head she replaced it with her sunglasses to hold back her hair, and stepped into her flip flops.

"Alreet, ditch the stroller and let's go be tourists, aye?" O'Dell grinned up at her bestie, offering her hand to the thick Tellarite.

With her other hand, Gavarus let out a sigh of relief and pushed the abandoned pram into a nearby trash receptacle and the two made their way off into the brightly lit strip, in search of more alcohol and festivities free of Mugato's, mobsters or chaos. "Okay, so we got a little while before dinner to kill and we lost the asshat back there. What the hell else is there to do around here? I mean, I'm sure every place here has beer, so that's a given. But we can drink in style on Captain Pirate Booty's massive ass tab. Soooo, beer with cheesy magicians? Beer with... what's that, a circus? Beer with... is that a museum? Ugh, f*** learning. I don't want to have to think. What'cha think, Fee?"

"Let's go take some pills, get on a rollercoaster and ride til we hurl," O'Dell decided, watching a rollercoaster roll around thirty meters above the street. "Then we'll get cleaned up and drink our way up the strip, aye?"

"Holy..." Gavarus gasped looking up, then began chuckling at the sight. " Oh, hell yeah. That sounds like a plan a half to me. But, won't that be kinda tame for you. I mean, your a test pilot."

"Sure, but I'll nae be piloting it, I'm joost a passenger. And tis something I get to do with you, aye?" O'Dell took the large, three-fingered hand covered on the palm with callouses from the hard work she did in both of her own small, delicate hands and held it to her cheek. "We dinna get to take a lot of exciting rides together, y'ken?"

Blushing a deep pink, the round cheeks of the porcine engineer curled up as she smiled broadly at the sentiment. As she did, she looked down at her pint-sized partner and squeezed her hands snugly in her own. "Yeah. Yea, I get that. Heck, I don't think I even fit in the Banshee or any of the mechs you fly. So yeah, this will be fun. Let's do this."

Hand in hand, flip-flops living up to their name as they pair slapped across the busy recreation of the Las Vegas strip of old Earth towards the tower resort with the swirling green coaster track at the top. Entering the lobby, they looked around the tourist-jammed room for where to go to enjoy the attraction at the tower's top, which was easy enough for the two-meter tall Tellarite who was the better part of a full head taller than anyone else in the space. "Ahh, there we are. It's at the end here. C'mon."

Leading her much shorter partner through the throng of sentients, they were getting ever so slightly re-directed to the left side where it was easier to walk across the open rotunda of gift shops, restaurants, and specialty stores. But as they did, they found themselves momentarily stuck behind a black chalk sandwich board sign on the ground in front of a small storefront inside the expansive lobby that read 'Madame Fortuna: Psychic, Palm Reader, Tarot, and Fortune Teller.'

From the open door, covered by a gaudily colored beaded curtain, an old Klingon woman with her head wrapped in a colorful, but worn, scarf stepped through to look at the unlikely couple. "Laaaadies. Welcome. Come in? See your future? Learn what the cards have in store for your fate?"

"Might be fun, aye? After all, who could bloody predict OUR future, y'ken?" the minuscule O'Dell smirked up at her porky partner. "Might give her brain freeze joost tryin', aye?

"Why the hell not? It's not like this woo woo shit is real, anyway. And who knows, maybe she'll be able to predict who we're gonna throw up on when we get on that coaster. Heh!" Gavarus snorted out a laugh as they stepped in, the old Klingon woman seeming to either not hear the little jokes or not care about it as she stepped slowly around her small, round table.

It was decked out very much like the kinds of stereotypical parlors of this sort from the 20th Century on Earth, with hanging silks and a crystal in the center of the table. But rather than a smooth, round ball. This crystal was a jagged, green collection of three large points that seemed to have an otherworldly glow to it. But behind the old woman's chair, both women's eyes locked for a moment on the unusual items hanging behind her.

"Those... are a frickin' lot of skulls. What are those? Those are, like, plastic, right?" Gavarus gulped with an awkward grin. 

"Sacrifices are often needed to unveil the future, large one. A Targ. A Romulan Shaill. A... chicken, a cow and a pig." The old woman had a creepy grin on her face as she slowly sat down, letting out a grunt as she did. "But please, sit. No such requirements will be made today. From you ladies, all I shall need are open minds... and I also take credits, latinum chips or I can charge this to your room."

"Charge it to the room," O'Dell muttered, already feeling a bit defensive about the chicken, cow and pig joke, While her life was spent literally surrounded by walking talking lifestock, O'Dell was very protective of her partner the pig, even moreso of her child the cow, and she would literally fight for her section chief the chicken. After all, the avian Mona Gonadie was the one who had taken a chance on both of them, and gotten them to where they were today, career-wise as well as personally. Taking a seat at the small round table, underneath the table she held fast to the large and reassuring hand of her mate, while in the pocket of her cargo shorts, her other hand fingered the type 1 phaser she'd been carrying all night. If this crazy old lady tried to harm her family, O'Dell would make her see some visions, all right. "Come on you raver, you seer of visions, and shine."

"All of those things, I may be. But none of those gifts enable me to see your room number. I'm not that psychic, ladies." As the ancient Klingon woman spoke, she presented a small padd with a raised brow and an impatient expression.

"Oh, shit. Yeah... uh... right." Gavarus said, entering their room number into the device, which elicited a more pleasant smile from the old crone.

"Many thanks. And now, I shall reveal to you, a glimpse into your future. What it is, none may say. The vision is yours alone to see and understand." She said, taking on a more theatrically ominous tone and waving her hands over the glowing green crystal. "Since you're already holding hands, you... large one... place a hand upon the crystal before you and both of you, close your eyes."

Glancing with a dismissive shrug to Fiona, Gavarus brought up one of her hands and casually placed it on the crystal, scoffing. "Like..."

"This!?!" The instant she did, it was as if the room she was in dissolved around her and her own hand in front of her looked even more calloused than before. And instead of the tacky t-shirts she had been wearing, the long blue sleeve of grease-stained coveralls were on her. The old woman and the crystal were gone, replaced with the viewport of the cockpit of an unknown ship. Glancing over to where Fiona was, she saw her pint-sized partner with an equally shocked expression on her face for an instant. But the brightness of her hair seemed faded to a duller red, and a few wrinkles had settled around her eyes and cheeks. She was wearing a slightly scruffy flight suit covered in pockets, with her hand of the flight control console of the customized freighter cockpit in which they seemed to be seated.

With a startled yell, Briaar drew her hand back and immediately, she was back in the fortune teller's chamber and everything was back to normal. "WHAT THE EFFIN' F*** WAS THAT!?!?"

"Your future... as promised," The old Klingon hag explained with a satisfied expression as she held her arms out proudly. "Klingon time crystals tell the future... but at a price. You just bought the grand tour, so take a good lengthy look at your future. Just touch the crystal..."

"Cockpit looked like the dog's bollocks. Like you'd had all the time and a lot of the spare parts to build one to yuir likin' that I could fly like she was noothin, hm?" Fiona, oddly unfazed by this, instead focused on what she'd seen.

"Uh... I guess..." Briaar said, nervously, as she hesitantly put her hand forward to touch the crystal again. Hesitating for a moment, she looked back at Fiona, who gave her a reassuring nod. And biting her bottom lip and squeezing her partner's hand just a little tighter, she slapped her hand hard on the crystal.

In an instant, there was that same rush from a moment ago as she opened her eyes back up to be back in the cockpit of the unusual ship they had just been in. For a few seconds, as she looked around, it was disorienting and alien to her as the environment was completely unfamiliar, but after a moment the sensation waned and suddenly, she felt more comfortable. The consoles all became as familiar as if she had made them herself. And a second or two later, she remembered that she had made them herself, just as Fiona had surmised back on Risa all those years ago.

And after a few more seconds, her grip on Fiona's hand loosened and they were simply there, in their future which now felt very much like their normal present.  As she gave her partner's hand a light pump, the slightly MORE portly porcine knitted her brows as she spoke, fully a part of the vision now, "I know, Fee. I know it's what she's wanted for, like, ever. But it still frickin' sucks! I mean, it's FOUR YEARS. She's still in her room back there and I miss the F*** out of her already."

“Ah know, Ah know, darlin. But we filled her head wi’ alla our stories and adventures from when was Fleeters, and she wants to make us proud of her. She feels like she’s got this big ideal to live up to, plus at least some of the Godox girls will be going next year. She has to leave home sooner or later, briar… better she goes off to do something important with her life than to just settle down with some space coy and throw her life away haulin freight or smuggling or some other desperate shite,” Fiona opined, flipppng a couple of toggle switches to shift some atmospheric pressure in the cargo bays.

“Dinna ye worry, snuggle snout. We raised her up fine, and she’s g’win ta do amazing at the Academy,” O’Dell squeezed partner’s index finger in her hand, then pulled it over to give it a light peck of a kiss. “Hell, there’ll be people to look after her even, and we taught her everything we know. She’s more prepared than most graduates, aye? And ye know she follows orders better’n we ever did…”

Pouting in the seat next to Fiona, Briaar pulled her unruly mane of graying, platinum kinks into a massive poof of a ponytail. "Yeah, yeah. I know. It still sucks is all." the space swine said with a light sniff as she took a swig from a large, metallic coffee cup in the cupholder to her side. As she did, a green light began flashing on the overhead display.

"Ugh... there they are, now." Briaar said, flipping the switch and speaking up into the microphone, "Starbase dockmaster, this is the freighter Brigadoon on Earth approach. We're scheduled for a personnel dropoff to Starfleet Academy San Francisco, requesting permission to land."

Waiting for the reply, Briaar took her thick finger off the button and muttered. "Seriously, the whole galaxy knows where Starfleet operates. Do they have to put 'STAR' in front of everything?"

“It sounded better than ‘Earthbase, Earthfleet and the Earthfleet Academy’,” O’Dell wisecracked. “Otherwise it joost makes it all sound like a Human club, which they wanted to avoid. So ‘Star’ in front of everything sounds more inclusive?” O’Dell hypothesized, accepting the incoming telemetry for their orbital approach and plugging it into the autopilot.

“MooooOOOOOMMM, I can’t find my touchscreen gloves!” came the low, deep call from behind them, a voice they had never heard before, but somehow they knew to be their mutant mooing offspring. Of course Briaar had made her specific gloves to operate a touchscreen, since her hooved fingers did not register on touch screens, and her large knuckles were not always the answer to that problem.

"I swear to the gods, that girl would lose her horns if they unscrewed," Briaar muttered to herself as she rolled her moistening eyes. As they long ago accepted the variation of her being 'Mom' and Fiona being 'Mum', it was easy to know who the young woman in the rear of the ship was calling for. Thinking about it for a second, the touchy Tellarite called back loudly, "I think they're in my toolbox in... Crap, where'd I put that damn thing. HOLD ON!"

Fussing about, Briaar bit her bottom lip, clearly getting a little emotional as she gave her pint-sized partner an overly large, toothy smile. "Fee, hon... I... I think they're in my toolbox under the bed. Look, could... could you maybe grab them. I... I need a minute so I don't just lose it with her, okay? Please?"

“Aye,” Fiona replied, getting to her feet and wrapping her short, spindly arms about her tubby Telklarite, as far as they would reach, at least. “I’ll handle it, ye joost make sure the autopilot doesn’t decide to set us down at a truckstop, aye?”

Kissing her partner on top of her frizzy head, O'Dell thumped back through the cockpit of the freighter and into the living quarters. One foot made considerably more noise than the other, and that was when she noticed it appeared to have been replaced by a cybernetic limb, clearly highly customized and personalized for Fiona. Glossing over that oddity, she spotted the toolbag by the door, where Briaar left it last when fixing the water reclamation system. Fiona dug out the three-fingered gloves then called down the corridor. “Got your gloves here, Minnie Moo…”

Down the corridor, in the rear of the worn and lived in ship, lovingly restored and customized by the unlikely pair, in a large chamber along the starboard side, stood the subject of the two parents fussing: Minerva Mary Margret Mona O’Dell.

Standing at just shy of 246 centimeters, the young woman was wearing the Starfleet cadet's uniform she had been assigned, which fit perfectly on her thickly built frame. The first Minotaur to ever be accepted into Starfleet academy was nervously poking at the computer touch screen display on the wall near the door to her room. Her shoulder-length, black hair that crested around her brown-fur lined face. "Dang it... just work, fer Heaven's sake."

Finally, the screen gave out a chirp and appearing in the center of the room, was the flickering hologram of a much shorter young woman with decidedly pointed ears and raven black feathers in a mess about her head with two, strikingly bright red streaks along the sides. "MIN! Tlhei... you look great! I can't believe it! It's finally your first day!"

Standing across, the room was a collection of old books, assorted artifacts in cases, and star charts along the walls. It was a room clearly lived in and lived in well as the short, slightly rotund young woman in the center of the room wearing a pair of green cargo pants, hiking boots, a black turtleneck and a brown jacket with some kind of metallic headband, smiled broadly through chubby cheeks.

"Tha's easy fer yoou t' say, Hlai'vana. You won' have'ta do this fer a whole year still." Minerva said, fussing with her collar.

"Min, you're freaking out over nothing. Your admittance scores were fantastic, and you're going to kick ass, just like you always do." The holographic young woman replied, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, c'mon Vana, ye dinna know that..." the fidgety young woman in the gray and crimson uniform with just the hint of Fiona's Irish brogue said as she adjusted the collar again. "I mean, I wish you and the others were gonna be there. I dinna know innyone there."

"Well, MY application is ready for next year and so is Tala's, even though she's also applying to the Vulcan Science Academy. And you know Ami, she wants to go to the Aldebaran Music Academy and sing." The young woman who suddenly flickered slightly in mid-sentence said, rolling her eyes. "But we'll be there before you know it. So you make sure to soften those teachers up for us, Min."

Tilting her head slightly, Minnie looked at her friend quizzically, "What are you wearing, Vana? Is... is that one of Tala's neural signal blockers? Where ARE you?"

"Wellll, Mother had to take the Ghost to Romulus for a conference with the senate, sooooo... we totally aren't about to take the shuttle over to search for the lost Chalice of S'task in the closed down section of the mines on Remus." Vana said, her cheeks blushing green, smiling awkwardly.

"Ugh! I hate you all and I hope the telepathic guards catch you!" Minnie said, shrugging she broad shoulders. "We were gonna do that over the summer break!"

"Yeah, well the window opened up, and with Mom on Miradona for the season teaching, it was too good to pass up." Then, the young daughter of Romulan and Miradonian pilots' tone got more serious. "But... I'm sorry. Really. I wish you were here with us. And we miss you. But we'll see you soon, Min. Promise."

As she talked, the door wooshed open as Fiona looked into the room. The projection of the young woman turned and smiled conspiratorially as she yanked off the headband and tossed it out of range of the holographic sensors. "Hey, Aunt Fiona! Tell Aunt Briaar that the holomatrix is twitching again. I keep flickering. She probably needs to change the polarity actuator again."

“Aye, I’ll put it on the list,” O’Dell replied good-naturedly. “I’ll nae rat ye out to yuir mum if ye give me a minute here, eh? I’m sure she’d be pleased as punch to have to interrupt a Senate proposal to bail your arses oot of where yuir nae supposed ta be on Remus. But she’d know yuir runnin errands for us pickin up Dilithium dust if ye kin spare herself here for a minute, aye?”

Leave it to the professional mischief-maker to be ready to manipulate the up and comers.

Even through a hologram, Fiona and Minnie could see the color bleach out of Hlai'vana Godox's cheeks as her eyes darted around for a moment. But it was an expression Fiona had seen you young woman show thousands of times growing up and there was no pulling the wool over the daughter of Maraposia. "Uh... Sure thing, Aunt Fiona." Touching a button just outside of the range of the holographics, the image of the young, befeathered adventurer flickered and vanished.

“Alreet Minnie, we need to talk a moment, aye? Coome sit down so your old mum can look ye in the eye, aye?” Gesturing to the bed, Fiona waited patiently. They had been through the difficult teen years, when her small stature had been a genuine liability with her considerably larger adopted daughter. But cleverness and guile and actual parenting had won out, and now their relationship, while not perfect, was at least better, and safer for O’Dell’s 145 cm frame.

"Aw, Mum... not a speech. I'm..." Minerva drooped her shoulders and rolled her own eyes a moment before catching the bright emerald orbs of her tiny ginger mother, and sighed slightly. Hoofing over to her large, reinforced bed, she sat gently down and smiled.

“Now, your mum… you know how sentimental she is. She’s seein her one and only child off to the Academy, and she’s tryin her best to put on a brave face fuir ye, because she dinna want for the last memory ye have of her being a bawlin wreck. But ye’ve been the center of our lives fuir so long, she’s g’win ta be a bit lost wi’oot ye, y’ken?” O’Dell paused at that, seeking the big brown eyes of the bovine cadet. “Aye, aye, I know she’s still got me, but that’s different. Her and me made our pact long ago, and along come ye. But so much of who she is today is defined by you- takin care of ye, teachin ye, preparing ye. Now that day has come, and you’re ready… you are so, SO ready. But yuir mum… she needs ye to be strong today, aye? Take it easy on her, and no matter what she says or does, ye remember this- and ye keep it tight to ye from today on, y’ken?”

“Your momma could nae be more proud of ye than she is today. Getting accepted and goin to the Academy, well, she’s so proud of ye she’s fit to bust, and so am I. But no matter what, ye keep this close- we’re always proud of ye, and we allays will be. Ye’ve been a good daughter to us, and learned and grown and done everything we’ve ivvir asked of ye… save maybe clean yuir room, but that’s a tad hypocritical of us to ask, aye?” At the mild chuckle that received, the little lady of the spaceways took the large, furry brown three-fingered hand into her own pale, hairless five-fingered hand.

“You go make us proud out there today, aye? Because you will- every day. Dinna ye worry about yuir old mums out here clunking aboot haulin freight and runnin the pub, because we’ll be joost fine. We’ll miss ye, and we’ll allays want to hear from ye, y’ken? But this is the beginning of yuir greatest adventure. Now tis time fuir ye to stand on your own, and learn the Starfleet way. Which means nivvir havin to be alone, aye?"

"So dinna ye worry aboot us. Besides, ye might just find a few familiar faces at the Academy, or at least people whose names ye’ve heard in stories, eh?” O’Dell offered her daughter an encouraging smile, wishing she’d had the gift of inspiration like Commander Thunderjugs. But what she had were honest words from the heart, so she led with what she knew.

"Okay. I'll nae muck wit' her... or you, Mum. I promise. I'm jus..." The mammoth Minotaur maiden shuffled her large hooves on the deck while, in her hands, she was fiddling with the end of her own tail nervously, "I'm... I'm scared, Mum. I mean. I know I've been livin' a spacers life alla' my life, n' with Starfleeters most a' that time. You and Mom. Aunt Mona, Aunt Dox, and all the rest. But this is different. I... I jus' don' wanna screw it up. N' I know what you all always say. That Starfleet is a family. That yer shipmates become like yer brothers and sisters. But... it's not you n' mom."

“Nae… nae, tis not, m’wee one. But we’ll allays be here, and ye know that we’re ne’er more than a comm away. And for the record? Yuir mums were far and away the biggest screw-ups in the Fleet. Yet we did great things, and we served honorably. WE made it through the Academy. We screwed up a lot, aye, but that’s part of growin oop and findin yuir own way. But you, you’re far better prepared than we ivvir were. You wilnae screw oop, because yuir smart, and capable, and brave an’ bold, ye lead wi’ yuir heart, and steer wi’ yuir head. There’s naught ye could do to make us innything BUT proud of ye, aye?” Taking the soft-furred cheek and stroking it with the palm of her hand, Fiona O’Dell smiled tenderly.

“Yuir the first Minotaur in Starfleet, and the second generation of O’Dells amongst the stars. Ye carry all of our gifts, our teachings and our alcohol tolerance wi’ ye! Which means ye canna help but make us proud, aye?” Eyes misting up a bit, as she had reached her own emotional limit, O’Dell patted her buxom bovine babe on the head. “Now go finish yuir conversation and come to the bridge- we’re settin down soon, and the view from above is one not to be missed, aye?”

Sniffling slightly, Minerva wiped her own teary eyes and smiled, giving her minuscule mum a tight hug. "I will, Mum. *SNIFF* Ah'll be right oop. I promise."

Meanwhile, back in the cockpit, Briaar was rummaging through a series of bins to the rear port of the chamber, muttering to herself as she did. She was wearing slightly dingy coveralls with an embroidered logo on the back that read 'The Boar's Nest pub and truckstop', "Where is it? Where the f*** IS it? Dammit, I can't have lost it."

Her sensitive ear twitched as she heard the distinctive clank of Fiona's customized cybernetic leg that she and Mona Gonadie had built years ago, heading back up the stairs to the slightly cramped bridge. Looking up from the bin she had been buried in, the portly porcine smiled awkwardly. "We'll be hitting atmo in about five minutes after we round Luna. How... how's she doin'?"

“Ohhh, she is her mother’s daughter, ye know,” Fiona said as way of explanation. Briar was a fretful one, which Minnie had inherited. But at the same time, she was smart, analytical and technologically savvy. She could fly just about anything, bench press a warp drive yet her heart was the biggest thing about her. “She’ll be fine, she’s just worried she’ll screw oop. Sound familiar?”

"Oh, hush your tiny... we stupid... perfect face." Briaar chuckled, mimicking Fiona's accent with a grin as she worked her way down to the next storage bin. "So, what, I... Okay... maybe I worry a little. It's just... I had to, ya' know. You know my mom and..."

Distracted as she talked about her own domineering, judgmental mother, Briaar stopped mid-sentence as her face lit up. "Here it is! I knew it was up here in the bins. Look, Fee. I've... I thought I lost it, but look."

Holding a small, plush miniature starship in her hand, she showed it to Fiona with moist eyes. It was the magnetic Starship Hera from the mobile that Mona Gonadie had made for Minerva when she was still newborn, given to her on the first night that Fiona and Briaar had stepped in to babysit. The last night of their old life and the first night of the life they had lived ever since. "I think... do you think we should... do you think she would want to bring it with her?"

"She is her mother's daughter, an' that means she's terribly sentimental," Fiona admitted, for she was sentimental to a fault, and her eyes misted over at the sight. "Aye... s'a good call, luv. Do we stash it in her luggage or give 'er a choice, y'ken?"

"Give her a choice about what, Mum?" came the voice from behind her. The inertial belt Minnie wore to minimize her strength's impact on the surroundings had the additional effect of rendering her footfalls silent as well, which meant that she was forever sneaking up on her parents.

"Shit! Uh..." Briaar said, straightening up and putting the small, plush toy behind her back and grinning obviously. "We made those belts too damn good. Heh. Well... okay... well, now you'll know we're putting something in your bag, so... well."

"Gimmie your hands, Minnie Moo." Briaar said, glancing up at the taller young woman, then back down to Fiona. As she did, she cupped the small, old toy and placed it in Minerva's hands. "This is something you used to play with when you were real little. It was part of the mobile your Aunt Mona made you back on the Hera, right after you were born... and... well... I've been holding on to it for a while now, and I... thought you should have it."

Pulling her own hands away, Briaar left it in Minerva's hooved hands and put an arm around Fiona's shoulders, squeezing nervously. As she did, Minnie looked for a long moment at the small, soft miniature toy of the old U.S.S. Hera. The Starship she had been born on and lived for the earliest days of her still-young life. After a few seconds, those big brown eyes began to tear up as much as her mother's eyes were and she tossed her arms tight around both of them, dropping to her knees to make it easier to grab them both. "Oh, moms! I can't believe you kept this all this time! I... I loove it. Oh, thank ye' so much. I remember this. It's... it's wonderful!"

Immediately, the damn burst and Briaar began bawling as their bovine daughter hugged them both. "Waaaaaah!!!! My... my... my baby!"

"Ach, fer fooksakes!" Fiona sniveled as she got lost in the hug of very much larger mammals, then an alarm went off on the bridge. "Nae! Got to land the ship, dinna let the autopilot do it!" Fiona began to scramble for the cockpit and the pilot's chair, then stopped, and turned back. "Nae... this'n is your adventure, mah bonnie babe. C'mon, why donchye bring 'er down for a landin' this time, aye?"

Biting her bottom lip in almost the exact same way Briaar did, Minerva's ears twitched and her tail flailed just a little. Unfortunately, the bovine cadet-to-be had no poker face as her unique anatomy tended to give away whenever she was excited. "Really?"

With a nod from Fiona, Minerva tugged lightly on her gloves and took the pilot's seat, which like all of the seats on the Brigadoon, were open on the left to make room for Minerva's tail. Once she was in the seat, the larger-than-life young woman was all business. Having been raised on Starships by an engineer and a test pilot, Minerva O'Dell was a natural at the controls of a ship and brought the craft to bear over the glowing blue orb that as the Earth.

Beaming with pride, Briaar and Fiona held each other tight as they watched Minerva deftly and expertly bring the Brigadoon smoothly into the planet's atmosphere and towards their destination: Starfleet Academy.

It only took a few minutes for the customized freighter that was a second home to the small family to glide through the clouds and towards the spires and shores of San Francisco that grew larger on the horizon as they approached. All the while, Minerva kept up with the changing approach vectors and landing instructions as, after a moment, the larger-than-not ship gently set down on the designated landing pad on the outskirts of the sprawling campus, dwarfing the nearby shuttlecrafts and pods parked there. 

As she powered down the ship, Minerva turned in the seat and smiled at Fiona, her eyes wide and her ears up in anticipation, hoping for the seal of approval from the natural pilot.

“Aye… joost like I toldya, you’ll allays make us proud, Minerva,” Fiona declared as she held the three-fingered hand of her alien mate, and both beamed her proud smiles to their pride and joy- their magnificent daughter, who would go further, fly higher and do greater things than her mothers before her.

It was then that the crystal released them, seconds after they had made contact with it, and the fortune teller’s booth on Risa solidified about them once more. The only holdover was that Fiona was still holding fast to Briaar’s hand beneath the table.

As reality came flooding back and both women's minds caught up with where and when they were, Briaar's eyes teared up at the memory of what she had just seen and most assuredly FELT as if it were as real as the hand she was squeezing in her own. "H... holy s... s... shit! Was... was that real?! Was that really... her?"

As the teary-eyed space swine wiped her eyes with her free hand and smilled, the fortune teller grinned at them both. "What you saw was a vision for you both alone. I know not what the crystal showed you. But from the looks on your faces, it showed you something desirable, to be sure."

“Nobody kin predict the future, aye?” O’Dell opined. “Events are allays in motion and variables come into play all the time. But… it did seem to be pretty likely. I’d name a starship ‘Brigadoon’. We’d be that sentimental droppin’ off our baby for her first year at the Academy. I kin certainly see ye holding onto that mobile Mona made for her all that time. We’d name a place ‘The Boar’s nest’ pub and truckstop. So… maybe, aye?” Squeezing her partner’s oversized mitt, O’Dell patted Gavarus on the shoulder.

"It's... it's too small for her already. The little ship. I was worried she'd try eating it, and." Briaar muttered, an almost gentle whisper as she spoke, staring at the Klingon woman. "I... I already took the little ship and put it in my toolbox."

“C’mon. That was a lot heavier than I’d expected, and I need a drink,” O’Dell declared as she rose from the table, keeping calm on the surface but more than a little freaked out by what she’d seen. “C’mon, snuggle snout…”

"A drink... Yeah," Gavarus agreed, shaking her head to clear it. "Right behind ya, hopalong..."

A Cosmic Bachelorette Party

In prep for Baroness Von Alcott's wedding, Loki (as a woman) begins planning the bachelorette party of her future Sister-in-Law. while Rita labors under the misconception that she is planning a standard Earth-style 'girl's night out' for the bachelorette. Given that Schwein can travel by rainbow bridge, I was thinking Risa, because it gives us any entertainment venue options, and Rita likely would have found a package deal with limo, clubs to hit, what they think is a stocked bar and a surprise or two like a strip-o-gram.

Bachelorette party consists of Baroness Schwein Von Alcott and her shieldmaidens: Rita, Mnhei'sahe, Enalia, Thex, Sarika, Hera and Big Ethel. Who else? Hildr, strongest of the Valkyryies. Is Hera coming along? If they are all to be tested it might be a way for the All-Father to test how much she's changed, and what she's done with it since he gave her the means to restore herself. So there's that. I had originally thrown in for Gavarus and O'Dell to be thrown in by Loki to add chaos to the mix, but I think I was envisioning something way different than what Azzie has planned.

As it was mentioned that the bachelorette party will instead be a series of trials, I figure we can start off with Rita's big plan that gets completely sidetracked by the guy who owns the rainbow bridge. So they can be all dolled up and ready for a fun night of barhopping in the New Vegas arcology, one of the many themed resorts on Risa that recreates the modern Las Vegas experience. When Odin begins diverting them to where he wants them to be for the trials. Yea? This way they appear to be ill equipped for confrontation in tight dresses and heels. But the key story element that works is, though appearing unarmed, none of them are unprepared. All of them have tricks, brought weapons, and are a pack of very, very dangerous women out for a hot night in the cosmos. Not all of the trials will have combat I suspect, but enough. So that I think might make for a fun juxtaposition.


Rita owes Loki a boon of some sort and that is brought up for the first time here. If you have a good idea run with it, but I kinda like the idea of him notifying her that She Owes Him- in fact he could show up male just to lay the old Marvel comics Loki snarling villain dialogue on Rita. Then he just plans to needle her with it until he decides what he wants. Then swap to lady Loki to point out 'Oh yes, I'm definitely coming along for this'. This way way we get to figure out what he will call in over the course of the story. Like I said tho, if you are already set on something, feel free to run with it.

The shieldmaidens must prove their worth by performing "trials". The trials are more like godly bar games, essentially.

Big Ethel gets set up with Hildr the Valkryie, as Schwein promised. WHEN TITANS TUSSLE! I'd love for this to go awful in the beginning and get better, that might be fun. Turns out they can't stand each other on sight or something, and they build to getting along from there over the course of the trials?

Having received the message naming the time and place of the midnight meal planned as the baroness Schwein von Alcott’s celebratory bachelorette feast, the demigoddess, Valkyrie and security officer were all surprised to find they were essentially already arrived. Thus the Paris Hotel's Le Village Buffet were graced first by Schwein, Ethel, and Hildr, now back in their party clothes, passing through the vast hotel lobby. Greeted by the concierge, they were led into the restaurant which had been fully reserved for the evening’s festivities by the Hera's buxom first officer, Rita Paris.

Rather than holographics, an entire small 18th-century French village had been built inside of the grand chamber, and the ceiling had been lit to look like a night sky with something akin to projection holography rather than modern holographics. Each shop had a different course and food specialty, open for taking in this spectacular buffet array, while several long tables had been arranged in the middle of the room just for the guests. Even the chefs and crew were in authentic French chef and server garb, as they slow-roasted meats over fire, baked bread in stone ovens, roasted vegetables and casseroles the old way, and even made pastries by hand. There was even a small bar where a barkeep poured mead and beer on tap in wooden mugs and wine in hand-blown glasses.

As the first trio were escorted to their seats by a maitre'd, the silver-haired pirate couldn't help but gaze in wonder at how much went into this one restaurant. Having known Enalia for so long, she could spot handmade items with ease, and she knew that even the floor tiles had been crafted by hand, rather than manufactured in any way. "Gott in Himmel..." she muttered as she took her seat and started planning out which meat vendor she was going to visit first.

“Oh gosh, this is so quaint! I have to say, I didn’t quite expect all this,” Jablonski marveled, takin in by the charming and cozy atmosphere of a Parisienne street café, created artificially indoors through set design and careful craftsmanship.

Scooching her seat just a touch closer to Ethel, the mountain of Nordic muscles, the Valkryie Hildr, grinned as she looked across at the options available. "Truly, this seems a feast worthy of the very Gods them... Oooh! Mine nose detects the aroma of eggrolls! Eggrolls and thou at my side, Ethel. Perhaps the statue felled me and this is Valhalla.

A few scant moments later, Enalia's group arrived, fresh off the pirate adventure stage. The spotted pirate queen turned Starfleet captain, however, being used to such luxuries as handmade furniture, almost missed the quality and care that had gone into the restaurant. But once she had been seated, she quickly reassessed their surroundings. "They went through a lot of trouble to make everything as authentic as possible. That means the food should be otherworldly. Don't tell Maica, but I think I'll start with a cup of tea."

"My lips are sealed. Your secrets die with me, Enalia." Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox said with a slight smirk. As the night went on, the young red-headed Romulan pilot was getting a little better at calling her Captain by her first name, though it still felt powerfully awkward.

Looking around, Dox noticed that Masato Rei wasn't there and, considering how the conversation between the embodiment of Death and the Hera's new doctor, the El-Aurian woman named Tovanna Mah had gone, she likely wouldn't be returning. Dox's smile weakened just a bit at the thought as she knew that a night of actual socializing was rare for the woman. Rarer even than it was for the anxious Romulan herself. But the night was supposed to be an enjoyable one and she didn't want to bring the mood down so she took off her black bolero jacket and tossed it over a chair to check out the food options.

Arriving next, the black leather-clad commander entered, arm in arm with a goddess on each arm. Loki winked and flirted as she entered, while Hera took in the restaurant experience with an appreciative eye as the delicious scents of the open kitchens wafted in the air, promising delights and fulfillment. As for Paris, she looked around in satisfaction. The virtual tour had been accurate, and the restaurant was precisely as advertised. With the party set apart, delicious food in the offering and enough room for all, Rita nodded in satisfaction. It was just what she’d hoped for, and this should satisfy even the immortal hunger of the gods… hopefully.

"My compliments, fair Rita. It appears you have spared prepared for every taste with so sumptuous a feast." Running a hand down her svelte middle, the trickster Goddess smirked. "It may be to my benefit when this night is done that I can change my shape. This will make it a fair bit rounder, to be sure "

"Oh same here. I think if they have... Yes, there's my favorite over there. If you'll excuse me, I will be claiming a roast pheasant all to myself," With an uncharacteristically greedy grin, Hera scampered off to fill a platter with food, starting with one of the slow-roasted pheasants she had eyed.

The doors slid open again as the still armor-clad Andorian stepped through the doors letting out a sigh as she did so. Risian security had been keeping her rather busy asking her to explain every last detail of what had happened. Still, they'd asked the last question and she was free to go. Though one of the last piece of info they'd let slip was bugging her at the back of her mind. She'd need to look into that later. Placing her helmet down on the table she pulled up her chair. " Sorry, I'm late everyone Risian security was keeping me busy." She said to the heads that had turned to her.

Tilting her head back to take in the Hera's azure engineer, Dox cricked an eyebrow quizzically. "It looks like the Captain, the Doctor and I aren't the only ones that had an... interesting time. Is everything okay, Thex? What happened?"

"Just been mistaken for the daughter of an Andorian media baron, by thugs hired by the daughter of an Orion syndicate boss, with some serious mummy issues. Then had to have a long conversation with the local security who really need to up their game." Thex replied jokily with a grin as she kicked the back of her armour causing it to vanish back into its storage pocket dimension. Thex decided to leave the last thing she'd found out of this conversation. "What happened to you guys?"

With a light smirk, the red-headed Romulan woman shrugged a bit. "We went to a Pirate-themed dinner theatre show of some sort, that ended up being run by a former adversary of the Captain. We ended up on stage in costume in a somewhat real swordfight as he was trying to reclaim some misperceived lost honor, or some such nonsense. He was a... what did you call him Tova? I'm much better insulting people in my native tongue and am not as up on Earth profanity as I should be but that was a good one."

"A schmuck... it was the nicest thing I could say about him after he placed so many in danger for no reason." Tova looked around the table and looked around at all the guests, noting the absence of a particular dark-clad woman. She looked over at Dox and quietly whispered to her, "There's now way Rei can be asked to join for the sake of the party is there? She and I may have issues but her absence from a celebration for friends at a joyous time should not be overshadowed by my pettiness." She looked at Dox with remorse, then quietly looking at her plate.

Looking down for a moment, Dox sighed slightly running a hand nervously over her ear. And old habit she rarely still did, but here she didn't quite know how to respond other than to try and not hold Rei's absence against the contrite new ships CMO. "I don't have any specific way to call her, no. She usually calls me if she needs to talk or... anything. Hopefully... she knows. She usually does."

"All right, who are we missing... the big girls are... GIRLS? Just use the trays as plates, don't be dainty, alright? There you go. So the big girls are at the buffet, Baroness is sampling the wine, mead, whatever they had... some kind of punch I think- oh right, souvenir ceramic cups with removable lids, make sure one gets delivered to each of them now and after..." Snapping open the collapsible tablet she generally kept hidden alongside her left breast, tonight being no exception, Paris logged into the hotel's gateway and ordered the drinks and the delivery, then multiplied the drink order to make it 5 drinks apiece. These were some heavy drinking women, after all.

As if on cue, Gavarus and O'Dell made their entrance, dressed like tourists in flip flops, cargo shorts and yoga pants with big straw hats and sunglasses. Gavarus was bearing a 40 in each hand, while O'Dell had a tiki glass that had something of a fruit explosion coming out of it, with an umbrella perched delicately upon it.

"Ladies, ladies, ladies." Gavarus announced, clearly well and truly drunk. "We are frickin' starving. If a Mugato in a suit comes looking for us... Just say we're dead or something."

"Oh don't worry he's going to be seeing stars for a while after how hard I hit him," Thex said taking a sip of her Andorian ale.

"Aye, ye'd think that, wouldn't ye?" muttered O'Dell as her eyes lit up, her nostrils flaring to inhale deeply. "I think those are real potatoes, Briaar! Sweet laird jaysis on a pogo stick, it's like I've died and gone to heaven!"

At that, the impish astrogator raced first from one display of food to the next, growing more and more excited. "Real fresh baked bread! Potstickers! Actual real potatoes, seared, baked, au gratin, mashed, fried, crisps! Prime rib! Honeyed ham! Chicken wings! Sausages! Theyyyyy've got blaaack puddding...!" Whirling on her porcine partner in crime, the wee tourist poked her finger up at the space swine defiantly. "Now dinna ye give me no grief aboot what I eat here tonight, and no tellin on me to Minnie Moo, neither, aye? An' that goes fer the LC too, aye?"

Pointing to the baggy pale blue t-shirt she was wearing, O'Dell tented it out in front of her to make the legend clearer to read: WHAT HAPPENS IN SPACE VEGAS STAYS IN SPACE VEGAS.

With a beer in each hand, the ponderous Porcine waved them in mock protest. "Hey, I didn't say shit. Go t' frickin' town. Hell, if My stomachs could process it, I'd probably join you, as messed up as it sounds."

Then, she looked over to where their Romulan superior was standing, eyeballing the tangy buffalo wings with hungry eyes. Married to a woman from an avian race took poultry off her menu as well, but Mona Gonadie was 47 light-years away and the young Lieutenant Commander looked weak.

"As for the L-C, it looks like she needs some more liquid persuasion to lighten the eff up. Ya' think?" Gavarus asked of her pint-sized partner.

Sliding up beside the somewhat salivating senior officer, the upstart ensign spoke softly. "Y'kin smell the vinegar in the sauce, aye? aThe way it stings the eyes joost a bit, so's ye know it's a respectable heat. Awww, and lookit that- they're twice baked, where they shoov 'em back into the oven in a tray of the sauce for it to boil through the meat as it subtracts. Oh aye, those are..."

O'Dell had been looking at the food, and not at her audience as she'd delivered her love letter to hot wings. But noticing the expression on the redheaded Romulan's face, O'Dell's eyes grew wide, and she took a half step back, holding up the t-shirt like a religious warding. "I'll not breathe a word of it if you won't. Aye?"

Looking over at the only woman in the ship shorter than she was, also a vegetarian because of her partner, Dox smirked slightly. "I'm a Romulan. I can keep a kreldanni secret. You have a deal, Fiona."

As she spoke, she began loading her plate up with the zesty forbidden poultry, "Consider my lips sealed."

"Mine too," Enalia added as she passed by, grabbing a few of the wings and adding them to her tray of guilty pleasures as she passed. Indeed, the Captain's tray was stacked with pastries, desserts, puddings, roast meats, and all the things that Maica had said were bad for her health over the years. Not to mention the stein filled with a royal milk tea that looked sickeningly divine and cavity-inducing all on its own.

As the ladies of the Hera filled their plates and began, one by one, making their way back to the tables, the black and green clad Goddess of mischief walked through the assemblage. Listening, watching and observing, she had collected a modest plate of her own and wasn't doing anything, in particular, to attract any real attention as she did. But after a few moments, she sidled up to the other Goddess in the room, Hera.

The goddess of women and family was filling her own plate with roast meats, vegetables, breads, and enough butter and gravy on top to drown the smallest among them as she noticed the presence of the other deity in attendance, as the Asgardian agitator spoke, "It warms me to see you renewed, no longer needing to rely on glamors to maintain yourself, my dear. And it is equally good to see you seeming to enjoy your place aboard the vessel of these noble mortals."

Looking over at Ethel Jablonski who was already deep into her meal sitting next to the Valkyrie Hildr, Loki raised an eyebrow. "And without even seeking it, you seem to have collected followers that hold you in reverence. However, you have imparted your strengths to them, rather than renewing yourself from their worship. This is a potentially dangerous path for one such as yourself. After all, even the devices that I provided to renew your strength are finite."

"This is true, that there's more give than take, but I think I prefer living this way. If there comes a day that I can no longer live like this, then so be it. I'll roam somewhere performing miracles and living off of people's thankfulness and appreciation or something." She had a soft smile on her face as she set her plate and a whole bottle of wine down next to where Rita was sitting. "After all, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life... like Meroset... and I'd like to spend what time I've been given making up for those mistakes, as best I can."

"Then you have truly found redemption here, among these mortals who protect and nourish you." Loki added, taking her own seat on the table opposite Rita and Hera. "It is good to see such things are still possible in a universe that no longer worships our kind. And better still to know you are so content, my dear Hera."

As usual, it was difficult to gauge sincerity on her face, but she seemed to have no malice or subterfuge to her words as she spoke, sampling an eggroll in sweet and sour sauce. "Ahh, fair Hildr spoke the truth. These are sumptuous."

"Why are said devices finite? Have you lost the ability to make more?" Thex inquired having been listening into the conversation. Having still not finished getting the last three artifacts that Hera had been storing on Meroset, she was always looking for any clues that could help her get them fixed. 

Turning to face the azure engineer, Loki smiled lightly. "All things are finite, Miss sh'Zoarhi. As stars become black holes and galaxies collapse, so too does the kind of energy that fuels our kind wane. And those that possess the skill to craft or repair such devices are... even rarer. We are in no danger of running out anytime soon, as our lifespans are measured, but I have found that it is a healthy position to never consider oneself truly immortal."

Thex nodded that did make sense. Starfleet was working on a plan to try and survive the eventual heat death of the universe, but as of the present, it was nothing more than theoretical papers and pipe dream blueprints. " Seems like a very good piece of advice. I know I probably know very little of your kind's tech, but if you need any help with any of them, I'd do my best to get them working."

Taking a sip of wine, Loki looked the young Andorian up and down slightly. "Well, your skills have already broached some of it, and even figured out how to power that armor bonded to you. No mean feat, to be sure. And I do believe that the Dwarf maker, Eitri, will be at the wedding. Perhaps I can arrange an introduction, if you are truly curious."

"I'd like that! It would be nice if I could figure out how to make everything work properly," The sapphire engineer replied with a grin.

"I can make that happen, then. Perhaps in exchange for a display of your dancing skills I've heard so much about, after dinner has concluded." The mischievous goddess replied with a sly grin of her own.

"I'm sure I can manage that," Thex replied, feeling a slight rush as she did so.

"Don't let her kid you, Thex is always up for a dance and thrilling a crowd," Paris offered, as she couldn't help but overhear the conversation. Lowering her voice, she muttered an aside to Hera. "You said that your aspect did that to the Amazons about the ship without you doing anything, it just happened from your presence. Is it costing you energy, Hera? Are you burning yourself out? Are you not getting anything back from us?" While there was a tone of accusation involved, the concern in Rita Paris' tone was unmistakable.

Tova quietly assessed her recent patient, giving her a once over and figured she was fine to dance considering the mayhem that everyone had been up to on the trip so far. She continued her dinner and silently listened to the banter of the crew as was typical of race, especially in light of the night's recent adventures.

Hera leaned in and spoke softly back. "Their dedication to service feeds my aura and that's what feeds them. Thankfully, it drains little to nothing and what little it costs me personally, I am more than happy to give. Worry not, dear heart. The fact that they may thrive and grow stronger, so that they may survive the rigors and dangers that you and yours face, warms my old heart more than enough to keep me going. It's the rest of what I try to keep up that taxes me overmuch."

"Which is?" Paris pressed. She noted Loki making a show if not listening, although at this distance she was sure the Asgardian could hear every word, and that the god of mischief had set this situation in motion just to ensure that she was privy to this conversation. But Rita cared far less about that, and far more about what Hera was doing with her energies that might be harmful to her.

"Keeping dangerous entities from being attracted to your fine vessel." The matronly goddess leaned in and lowered her voice a bit more, knowing that even still, Loki could hear every word. "If you haven't noticed, there have been a lot of high powered beings visiting and calling it home, even temporarily. That leaves a... Let's call it a scent. And that often attracts unsavory things in the universe. Things that I would have you never face."

Sitting back in her chair for a moment, Rita Paris smiled, a wry expression. "All this time you've been trying to make sure we don't have a target painted on us, at least for your level of attention, and you never mentioned it because you didn't want to worry us. Plus telling us you're doing it is somehow less selfless, so rather than guilt us over it, you don't mention it... it works on so many levels. Well done, Hera." Nodding in approval, Rita leaned back into the table. "Thank you for your efforts- we do appreciate them. I can't ask you to stop, because it's not really my place to say, and you are volunteering it. Plus I don't know what you're keeping us off the radar of, which is likely an entirely different discussion that I likely wouldn't be happier knowing."

"Just... please, let us know if it gets to be too much, all right? We're big mortals and we can handle the undue attention of a bad guy or two, rather than you wasting away, hm? So just keep us in the loop- fair?" Rita beamed a smile at the goddess and patted her hand. Changing course quickly, the Earth girl from a long time ago stood, raising her glass and clearing her throat.

"We've had food, we've had adventure, we've had drinking and dancing and good times. And all for our friend, to celebrate her betrothal," Paris drew out the word, to make it a bit funnier. "So raise your glass and say a few words, each of you, to embarrass the woman of the hour with our maudlin sentiment. Toasts from one and all!"

The moment hung in the air for a second, but before anyone else could chime in, of all people, Briar Gavarus raised her 40-ounce bottle of beer and stood up, still chewing on a full mouth of eggplant parmesan. "Hey, I'll go first. I'm drunk enough!"

"So... hi. I'm Briaar, and... *snicker*... and I'm an alcoholic!" the tipsy Tellarite said, holding her glass out to the silver-haired bride-to-be. "And, like, technically, this is the first night we ever met. But the creepy chick with the horn helmet wanted us to come along, so here we are. And, so far, you seem pretty cool. In the lobby, every news feed showed you throwing frickin' lightning bolts at a giant statue and that shit was the tits. Right, Fee? So, like, congrats on your upcoming wedding, it's nice to meet you, and your hair is really frickin' sweet!"

Standing beside her porcine partner, not that there was much difference for the diminutive Fiona O’Dell, she raised her glass and intoned with all seriousness, “Hullo, I’m Fiona, and I’m nae an alcoholic. They go ta meetings, I’m joost a drunk. So Sláinte chuig na fir, agus go mairfidh na mná go deo!”

“Wazzat mean, Fee?” Gavarus asked, and as if she’d been waiting for the cue, O’Dell stood on her chair to gain enough height to be seen and heard.

“S’gaelic, traditional. It means ‘Health to the men and may the women live forever!’ Seemed to suit the occasion, aye?” the pipsqueak pilot grinned like the devil's own mischief, then took a long drink from her mug.

With a wide grin, the silver-haired, one-eyed pirate raised her mug of ale in reply. "And you are the finest schwein and piglet couple I have met in all my life! We must drink until there is no more to drink, ja?"

“Copy that,” Gavarus replied, downing her mug’s contents with a satisfied smacking of the lips.

Next to stand was the Andorian engineer. " Hey, I'm Thex, as I'm sure most of you know. I'll admit I don't know the bride to be as well as I hope to, I'd like to offer some advice from myself. Marriage is scary, but it's totally worth it. I wish you and your betrothed all the happiness in the universe."

Again, Schwein raised her mug in response. "Thank you, Thex, for your wisdom and blessing!"

Tovanna stood up with drink in hand and cleared her throat, "Marriage is a beautiful union. May you bring each other support in times of sorrow, laughter in time of pain, patience in time of strife and may the flame of your love never extinguish." She smiled and took a drink before taking her seat.

"And may your lollipops ever inspire your patients!" replied Schwein, pulling one of the lolis from the bouquet from earlier out and hoisting it rather than her mug.

"I suppose I can't stall getting up to speak any longer." The perpetually anxious Mnhei'sahe Dox said as she stood up. Clearing her throat, the red-headed Romulan woman raised her glass of lehe'jhme wine and smiled lightly. "Since joining the Hera, you have been nothing but a friend to me. We met on the day that the Caa... that Enalia... made me a Baroness and you welcomed me with open arms. Since then, you helped me navigate the unique politics of that position. You helped show me how to hold a sword, you helped me learn more about who I am and where I came from, and you drank me under the table more than once."

"We have seen each other at our best... and at our worse... and I am honored to be among those who will get to stand by your side as a Spearmaiden on the day you marry your love." Dox held her glass a little higher to her fellow Baroness before taking her seat again.

"And I'll keep drinking you under the table, ja? But you beat me to the altar, so there's that. Thank you as well," With a great smile, Schwein once more lifted her mug.

This time it was Hera's turn to stand and raise a glass to the silver-haired privateer. "From the halls of the Artan Fortress to the Halls of Valhalla, I have seen glimpses of the good that you have wrought upon this universe and the nex,t by both Enalia's side and next by Thor's. I give you the blessings that I may give so that all that you set your mind to may come to pass." As Hera finished speaking, a slight golden glow could be seen from both Hera and Schwein.

Rather than raise her glass, the one-eyed cyber-pirate bowed her head politely. "Thank you, fraulein. I accept your gift with humility and gratitude."

Standing up, the mountainous mass of muscle known as the Valrkyre, Hildr, raised her massive mug of mead into the air and shouted towards the Baroness with a wide smile upon her face. "HO! In the months since your betrothal to my lord, Thor, we had stood side by side MANY times! As your strength and might have grown, together we have routed many beasts and faced many threats to the nine realms together and I would face legions more!"

"But think not that any amount of mead will make me forget what occurred with those damned elves that stole your armor and undergarments in the hot springs of Alfheim! Perhaps, with some MORE mead, I shall tell these comrades the tale!" Hildr finished with a sly grin to her friend and comrade in arms. "You will honor Asgard with your rule, my lady! You are a mighty warrior, a fierce friend and an honorable lady of the Golden Realm that I shall serve until Ragnarok- AND BEYOND IN VALHALLA!!!"

“Yeah, yannow, what she said. You’re good people, Schwein, and I owe you one for Hera. So you just keep bein’ you and we’ll get along just okely dokely!” Jablonski added, tinking her mug against Hildr’s.

"That was quite the adventure! I look forward to many more and hope you join us on a few of them!" Again, the silver-haired pirate raised her glass.

"Well, in the face of such weighty praise, I suppose the sibling of the groom should speak." Loki said as she stood, drink in hand. "But I shall be brief, dear Schwein. You have achieved a feat none have in a hundred thousand mortal lifetimes: you have stolen the heart of my mighty brother AND I actually like you anyway! May you weather being kin to me with all the strength and guile I have come to expect of you."

"Ja, and you know I can take a joke and dish one back!" Rather than raise her mug this time, Schwein leaned in conspiratorially. "Like last week when I put your helm on a horse and led it into my betrothed's restroom."

Tilting her head slightly, Loki's eyes widened with a look of delightful surprise as a smile creased her face. After the briefest of pauses, she let out a deep and throaty laugh that seemed completely authentic. "My Lady, you impress me more with each passing moment! Perhaps I may need to hope poor Thor can keep up with you! HAA!"

Looking around to read the room, Rita Paris stood and raised her own glass. "You were the first pirate I'd ever met... well, aside from the pirate princess starship captain, but that's another story entirely. As for space pirates, you were the first one I ever met. You were friendly, kind, generous, and you taught me the basics of swordplay. Which has saved my life more times than I would care to count, believe it or not."

Pausing to let the chuckle happen, Paris wound it up. "I'm glad you listened to me that night, and I'll always be proud of you for taking that chance." The night and chance to which she referred, Paris did not elaborate upon... instead, changing the subject. "Now... I've always avoided saying your name because it always struck me as disrespectful, and I've called you 'The Baroness'. But that won't do for the bride of Thor and a lady of Asgard. So here's to my friend, the cybernetic supersoldier space pirate turned demigoddess by divine injection, Schwein von Alcott!"

As the cheers went up for Rita's toast, Schwein barely had time for a counter toast. "And to the first true 'fleeter I properly called a sister and an ally! To Rita Paris!" Then another round of cheers went up and Enalia stood with a mug of what was assumed to be royal milk tea.

The spotted Queen of the Artans was in good form as she hefted her mug high towards her 'piggy'. "Schwein, you were the very first of the first to follow me properly. You say I saved you from that decimated colony. I say nay! I but gave you a knife and the opportunity to save yourself. You did the rest. Since then, you've pulled my butt out of more fires than I care to remember, and some are hard to forget. Like that time I beamed us into the middle of a pit of hungry..."

Schwein interrupted with a groan. "You gave your entire command crew silver hair that day!"

Grinning at the nervous chuckles, Enalia continued. "Be that as it may, we all survived thanks to you. The things this woman can do with a soup spoon are scary. All joking aside, you deserve happiness and all the great adventures that married life has in store for you. I know that you and Thor will be very happy together and live a blessed life. To the greatest Baroness and crewmate a young princess could ever hope for! To my little piggy!"

With the cheers for Enalia's speech, Schwein had to blush a bit as the nickname 'piggy' was a bit private, but she stood anyway, sensing that it was her turn to speak. "It has been so long since I gave a speech... Thank you all for this. I..." Moisture was building in her eye as she tried to think of what to say. "Well, I really can't imagine how it could be a better evening. Scheisse! I never expected to find someone or get married! Rita, thank you for pushing me into calling him back. Enalia, thank you for getting me the time from my duties to you to... uh... see him. Loki, thank you for being a cool younger sibling. Everyone else, thank you for your support, ja? This... It is a dream come true."

With the biggest grin and tears in her eye, she raised her mug once more for a toast. "So here's to everyone! To the crew of the USS Hera!"

There had been a LOT of booze, beer, mead, liquor, and shots.

Flaming shots, Shots that evaporated into gas in your mouth. Shots that glowed neon, and glowed not only as they slid down your throat, but as it was discovered by O'Dell, were still glowing when pissed out. 'Like a rave in yuir bladder!' it was remarked.

Dr. Mah came by to administer a detox to O'Dell after she passed out. Twice. She threatened that if there was a third time, intubation and a stomach pumping would be in order, so O'Dell stuck to bitters for the rest of the night.

Which was when Loki cornered them at the bar, all smiles and sashay.

"You two are delightful little agents of chaos, I must say," the god turned goddess of mischief grinned, transforming the emerald and golden chainmail into a slinky and seductive dress in the same colors, emerald lined with a gold interior, scandalously high cut on the thighs and low cut to the navel, displaying perfect breasts as if by design. "Thank you two, for keeping this from being too prim and proper, and bringing chaos to the order. I promised not to use my magic to interfere with this evening, while the trials came and went, and were all endured."

"Oh, F*** y'ur woo woo magic." Gavarus slurred over her umpteenth beer bottle, having made no attempts at sobering up. "What're you so… why'r you grinning like an idiot at ever'ting, anyway?"

"You two were my addition, and you served your purpose. But I was hoping you'd uncover something more, and there's a hint of exotic energy about you..." Leaning in, Loki sniffed about them, like a wolf scenting prey, moving here and there about their persons until she came to Gavarus' right hand. The trickster god's eyes snapped open, and she inhaled deeply. "Mmmm, time particles, yessssss? Ahhhh, give me fools and drunkards every time."

"Wahhhhl, ye hit the jackpot this time, a'cuz we're both!" O'Dell declared. "Fook kin ye smell shite like that? She canna smell it, and lookit the snout on 'er!"

"Yeah, and I c'n smell Minnie's diaper three decks away. N' you c'n smell… what… time thingies? Can you tell if I washed my hands last time I went to the shorter, Tits McGee?" Gavarus chuckled, laughing at herself and nudging Fiona. "I called her Tits McGee, Fee! Heh heh!"

"Well, yuir not far off wi'that. She looks ready to feed a village for sure, aye?" O'Dell burped and swayed a bit on her barstool, eyes half-lidded. She had tied a legendary drunk on, which was relative for her size. But now she was trying to keep up. "So what aboot the spilled beer an' poor wiping didye sniff up on my girrrrrl's hand that has ye all hot an' lathered, Mister Sister?"

"Whatever your people call them, because mortals have an endless array of silly names for things with perfectly good names to start with, they are the remaining evidence of powerful prognostication. You see, I knew if I brought you two along, you'd sniff it out for me like a truffle. So... where were they? A Klingon, yes? Tell me where you saw the future..." At this, Loki was leaning in eagerly, eyes wide and sparkling, which only made the spectacular cleavage display that much more arresting to the eye- at least for Briaar Gavarus.

"A future, Boobarella," Gavarus said, over a burp as she took another swig. "We went to th' 'cademy. Timelines and quantum uncertainty and shit, we saw A future. N' th' creepy ol' Klingon lady was across the street at that hotel with the sweet roller coaster on..."

"Oooh, that was fun. Especially when we got done and found where my throw up hit the hovercab after I hurled on that thing. HA!" Gavarus laughed, ignoring Loki and going back to talking to her pint-sized partner. "A frickin' block away! I got RANGE!"

"I canna believe ye took advantage of our velocity like that ta really drop a right proper street pizza 'puke like that. Twas magical. I took holos," O'Dell clinked her beer glass to that of her puke proficient porkchop, as Loki rolled her eyes, and her outfit shimmered back to the emerald scale mail, the golden horned helm reappearing on her head.

"You've served me well, through design, fate or mad chaos is beyond my understanding. But as I'm not a petty god, I will grant you a boon for your efforts on my behalf- you may each have the gift of one undetectable lie, that would convince the lowliest dullard to the cleverest of gods. You may use it once, whenever you wish, and none will be the wiser. Use it well-" Loki was still going on when O'Dell was struck by inspiration and spoke up.

"That hat doesnae look foolish on ye at all," O'Dell intoned with a nod, seemingly the soul of sincerity.

"Oh, my helmet? Quite dignified indeed, and elegant, wouldn't you say?" Loki readily agreed- the lie being, as advertised, convincing even to the cleverest of gods.

Choking on the beer in her mouth, Gavarus spit out a mouthful as she laughed. "HAA! Oh, f***. Burn!"

"So, glad we frickin' entertained your weird-ass, Horny. So, whadda you care about us seeing shit about our future? Because you're laying this shit on frickin' thick?"

"Your futures I have only the mildest of passing interests, swine of Tellar," Loki fairly sneered. "But mine own future is of considerable interest to me, particularly if I do not have to consult the Norns, nor any of the divinations of my people. The god of mischief is always seeking an edge, and in this you have provided me, so I thank you. Ah, there's that delightful little Andorian girl who loves to dance like the Kolari." turning toward where Thex was passing, Loki paused.

"By the way? Forget..." Loki opened the palm of her hand and blew across her palm, causing a light pink cloud to roll off her fingers and settle about Gavarus and O'Dell, as Loki sashayed away. "Ahhh, Miss sh'Zoarhi. I trust the eve treats you well...?"

Sneezing and blinking rapidly, O'Dell looked around in a confused fog. "...the fook were we doin, Briaar?"

"I... I have no frickin' idea. I hope I didn't throw up on anyone?" Gavarus said, looking down at her drink with a raised eyebrow. "Damn, this is clearly some good shit."

"Another round'a the last, bartender... what, are ye deef as well as slow...?"

With the buffet feast quieting down Thex was feeling extremely happy with herself. The sapphire skinned engineer had been having a blast even with the odd situation she'd found herself in. Now she was taking a break looking over the replica las vegas. The Risan's had made an almost perfect replica, but her engineer's eyes could see a few flaws in their replica.

Plenty of time for criticism of Risan building could wait later. She had to find an Asgardian god she owed a dance and the god of mischief was one you really didn't want to annoy.

The god, or in this evening's case, goddess in question was making her way through the assemblage of women from the Hera, talking with each as she could. Gavarus and O'Dell seemed even drunker than usual as the gender-fluid Asgardian stepped away from them and caught sight of the azure engineer.

"Ahhh, Miss sh'Zoarhi. I trust the eve treats you well?" Loki said, cricking an eyebrow and grinning as she gave the slightest of bows.

"It's been quite the evening. Asgardians sure know how to throw a party and the universe always does like throwing something at me to keep me from getting bored." Thex said with a grin of her own on her face.

"Well, boredom is not the lot for you ladies, is it? But that is to be expected for women so connected to the Divine as so many of you. Cosmic forces will find themselves drawn to you. Fate will bend events towards you." Loki said with a lightly dismissive Aire. "I take it your evening was interesting?"

" Being mistaken for the daughter of an Andorian media mogul and almost kidnapped by the thugs of the Orion syndicate will certainly keep you on your toes." Thex replied with a grin forming on her face.

Holding up her empty hand, with a flash of gold light, a fresh glass of wine appeared in the trickster goddess's hand as she slowly walked in a bit of a circle around the canny Andorian, taking a sip. Then, with a smile, the raven-haired woman leaned in and spoke softly with a knowing tone. "You must be quite fascinating to have garnered such attention. Was this woman's resemblance to you... that striking, my dear?"

Thex paused for a moment as she tried to think of the correct words to use. " Striking??? It was like looking into a mirror of myself when I was in the academy. " She said with a tone that even an Asgardian god could tell was completely serious.

"Indeed." Loki said with a more neutral expression. "Curious, I would imagine that must not be a common experience. You seem unsettled by the experience, I dare say."

Thex nodded in reply. " It's not something you expect to happen. I'll recover though. Since I've joined the Hera a normal day has become a rarity. Being told you have a clone is just another odd day." she said thinking back to what the Risian security officer had told her. That her and Glidal Nog were showing up on the scanners as the same person. She was going to have to have a word with her father as soon as she got back to the ship.

"How intriguing. How intriguing, indeed. Well, this... Nog woman... is not bonded to a divine artifact, so you may still bear more than enough to render you unique." Loki said with a grin, raising her glass to Thex. "Nor, I suspect, does she share your reputation for dance."

" Indeed, I don't even know if i can be separated from this. " Thex said looking at the armour summoning bracelets still on her wrist. " Nor I doubt she could dance as well as I can. Which speaking off I still owe you a demonstration of that don't I?" She said with a grin

"Well, if you insist, I shall raise no objections. I am... quite curious " Loki said with a wry grin. "Though, technically, you owe me nothing until I have arranged that meeting you would like with the Dwarven Maker. That said, It would please me to see this display my future Sister has spoken of."

"As for your bond to that armor, we can discuss more of what I know as you choose. But I dare say that it would take your death to separate it from you. Such artifacts do not choose their masters lightly."

" Hey, the night is still young and need to do something to stop my brain thinking of this whole mess. I just wish I'd worn something in could dance in more easily. " She said looking at her purple dress which had somehow survived the night intact.

"My dear, Miss sh'Zoarhi..." Loki said with an arrogant smirk, "What kind of a trickster would I be if I lacked the power to manage so simple a feat as a... wardrobe change?"

With a wave of her hand, the elegant dress Thex was wearing flowed into the shadows and warped against her frame, becoming a black, full-body catsuit."

"A temporary bit of magic. Your dress is perfectly intact, I assure you." Loki grinned her Cheshire cat grin.

Thex had seen the abilities of the gods before, but it would never stop being amazing in her eyes. Whatever her catsuit was made from it felt very tight on her, but didn't stop her movement in the slightest. " That's just amazing Loki. Shall we hit the nearest dance floor so I can show you what I can do?"

"My dear..." The raven-haired goddess said with a long, drawn out-breath, "Lead the way."

____________________


And Thex did. The unusual pair were soon stepping through the doors to one of the resort's clubs. Even before she stepped through the doors Thex's body was moving as a familiar Orion song was blaring through the giant speakers. The Andorian's body began to move like water as she began to dance to the music she could feel in her soul.

Watching, Loki crossed her arms to conceal the slightest of gestures from her fingers that cause the music to raise slightly in volume and intensity. The lights dimmed everywhere but upon Thex, and the crowd cleared ever so slightly around the lithe Andorian with the trickster watched

All of that went unnoticed to the Andorian as her body, mind, and soul moved to the music. It flowed as if she was possessed by the music her body moving as if her blue skin was made from ice-blue water. She was feeling great as nothing seemed to matter, but the music and the dance.

After a few minutes, the song seamlessly faded into a different time, and the black and green clad goddess clapped at the dancing engineer. "I am pleased to say that our dear Schwein did not exaggerate your skills. Consider me duly impressed, Miss sh'Zoarhi. No easy feat."

Thex did a polite bow and curtesy as her face turned into a happy grin. " Praise from a god is high praise indeed. I'm glad I didn't disappoint you."

Smiling back, with the slightest hint of something going on behind her dark eyes, the Trickster Goddess nodded as she replied. "Indeed, I can easily say that I am in no way disappointed, Miss sh'Zoarhi. This evening has been exceptionally enlightening and I am glad to have learned more about you and seen your unique skills in action."

"Though, perhaps it is time to rejoin your comrades for the rest of the evening before we are too missed?" Loki added, gesturing to the dance clubs exit.

" Let's," Thex replied not wanting to worry her shipmates with all that had happened.

"Very well, then. And again, I thank you for your time, my dear." Loki said, bowing slightly and taking Thex's nearest hand in her own and placing a gentle kiss upon its back before leading the azure engineer back to the party. As she did, the black catsuit rippled and flared back into the purple dress she had been wearing all evening as if it had never changed.

And so the pair returned to the party re mingling with the crew that the sapphire engineer called home. Picking up a drink from the table the Andorian pondered as the thoughts returned to her head. Even with the night's events, something was pricking at the back of her mind telling her something wasn't right here. Everything seemed far too coincidental.

And as Thex pondered the events, the trickster goddess materialized a small white cloth and dabbed her lips where she had just kissed the hand of the Andorian who had just learned that she had a clone. And with a wry grin and a satisfied expression, gently folded the cloth up and tucked it into her top to rejoin the party.