Estantia

It had been meant to be a simple boarding exercise. The Captain and First Officer commanding the retired USS Waltz, the rest of the USS Persephone’s crew tasked to capture it within an hour. But then less than five minutes after they had transferred over the dilapidated ship exploded, it was only to be expected really, it had been chosen for target practice for a reason, taking Captain Yan Min and Lieutenant Commander Briar Olsworth with it. The crew gathered around the largest tree in the arboretum, grass gently rippling under their feet as two more names were added to the plaque by Second Officer Tunsley. However he kept looking to the person most affected by this, who was technically the highest ranked person on the ship. Those important people knew that Lieutenant Commander Kali Salih had always regarded those two in particular as her family, the only reason she had transferred back to the ship less than a week before. Now she was silent, head bowed, face shut, not even speaking, eyes dark and troubled. Tunsley worried about her, and thus he wasn’t really surprised when she approached him after the ceremony, handing him a PADD that said all she couldn’t. “You’ve resigned?” A nod, “I have lost too many people.” He frowned, “You cannot be persuaded? You are an outstanding officer.” She shook her head, “Happy travels, Commander.” ++++ The woman had shut her door quietly before the first voice spoke, “It’s done?” “Yes,” she turned around to face the Terrans, taking off her com badge and setting it on the desk with more than a touch of reluctance, “I am no longer a starfleet officer. May I have a change of clothes?” The dark blonde man chucked a t-shirt and pair of trousers at her that he had been lying on in the storage crate, “Not regretting this?” “A little,” she commented as she caught the clothes and moved to the bathroom, “but I know as well as you do that we need to get out of here.” Dark hair swished behind her as she closed the bathroom door, leaving Briar with a wry grin. “I’m glad she’s on our side, you’d never thought one little transfer would make this much of a difference, would you?” Yan chuckled, “Maybe they sent out the assassination order for the wrong person.” Both men fell silent as they thought about the events led them here, hiding among tables and clothes, preparing to leave the ship that had been their home. ++++ As the transporter faded, putting him and Olsworth on the USS Waltz, a familiar voice chimed in. “Captain, I hope you transported safely across.” “Commander, yes. We'll be ready for your mock attack in a few hours.” “I’m sorry Captain, I have my orders. FIRE!” Coherent light flashed down, slashing holes through the smaller ship, followed moments later by the detonation of quantum torpedoes. The Captain of the ship backed away from the console with his arms thrown up to cover his face as the screen exploded, closing his eyes against the light. When he opened them he was surprised to find both himself and his FO in the CSO’s office facing the Indian smiling slightly cheekily at them over the desk that used to be hers. “You owe me.” “I thought you couldn’t read a terminal?” the FO asked in surprise. “Last night I meant to read up on the minimum requirements for research to be valid and found the file blocked, I thought it was just that my science codes hadn’t been cleared and so I worked around it.. It seems I’d missed the keys and typed Min instead. My eyesight cleared up abruptly around the time I read ‘terminate’.” “You set up an auto-transport for if the Waltz fell apart,” Yan said slowly, “Tell me you covered your tracks?” “Of course, you can’t be a CSO and not pick up a few things,” she pointed out, “program, edit logs, transporter signal and edit logs deleted. If they get anything it will lead them here, to Tunsley’s own terminal.” “I can’t believe it,” Olsworth muttered in disbelief, “why are there orders out to kill us?” “They’re not the only ones,” Yan replied glumly, “there are a few things which have been bothering me, the Phoenix’s disappearance, the neatness of the DS17 bombing, a few other things.” “A conspiracy?” the FO asked quietly. The Captain nodded, “A high up one too. It all goes back to the Gorn War, who knows enough about what’s happened here or anyone trying to look too closely at what’s happening.” There was a silence as they all looked at each other, the gazes ending up at the woman who had served as long as they had. She was silent for a moment before looking up, eyes calm. “Then the answer is simple. We need to vanish.” ++++ “So your cousins are our information net inside Starfleet,” Yan said a few hours later once the shuttle was well away from DS17 and they had thought it safe to emerge, now in replicated off-duty clothes, “How are we going to get information?” “Travel round? Talk to people?” Briar suggested from the pilot seat. “We need to get you two less recognisable first,” Kali pointed out, “and as for the travelling, I have an idea from a book I read when I was small. There was a group of minstrels that travelled between the north and south of a country that were at war and they passed messages from families that were separated by it, doing everything loudly and openly but acting as spies the entire time.” “So you’re suggesting we become intergalactic minstrels?” “I admit I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic,” the other winked, “and Kali’s a good dancer.” “We’ll need more people,” “We can find them, this is too big not to have touched others,” the Indian pointed out. “And then we train and wait for them to do whatever they’re planning,” Yan added solemnly, “the calm before the storm.” “They’re not ready to move yet,” Olsworth pointed out with a frown, “Sure, they’re getting stronger otherwise they wouldn’t try to bump us off, but they’re still being quiet about it, they’re still gathering support for whatever they’re planning, and that means it will get worse.” “Then we’ll gather our strength too,” the woman said in a dangerously calm voice, “They chose the wrong enemies when they threatened my family.” “Agreed.” “Agreed.” They would be ready when the storm broke.

Kyara went to the Resolution but then decided that the simming format was not for him and thus left UFOP, sad, but if he didn't enjoy it, we wouldn't make him stay. Also, does it still say Maria-Mil in the logs? she disowned her father long before Starfleet.

A Free Lunch At the formal dinner for the 162nd annual conference of the Adam Liberens Alliance (ALA) Miss Alicia Clementine was trying not to yawn. It was one of the few times where the buyers and managers were forced to make small talk to their sponsors, their future sponsors, the bosses, their family, their boss and goodness knew who else. She smiled, thanked them for their compliments and internally loathed the complete fabrication of pleasantries over the stinking undercurrents. That was business for you though, saying one thing, thinking another and watching someone else entirely. Just look at this dinner, just an informal chat with old friends. It was by no means an opportunity to scout out the potential of rivals, complete lucrative deals that had been arranged the previous year, to plan even more lucrative deals for the next year oh-and-by-the-way everyone knows how very generous the Plal organisation were to host it this year don’t they...? Alicia didn’t entirely like the Plal organisation, to be completely fair she didn’t like any of them much, including her won, but the people in some of them made it all bearable. Their group of four may have all come from different companies but their friendship had formed an unofficial alliance between them to make sure none fell. The arrangement benefited everyone, and so it wasn’t surprising when they all ended up in a corner to chat. “Girls, you’ll want to steer clear of the group from Andromeda Inc this year,” Nessa warned them, “Especially you Julie, they’ve been eyeing you all evening.” “I can handle myself and you know it,” Julie, aka Juliet of a million middle names replied with dignity, “besides, as a woman of noble birth I need to be thinking constantly of my chastity.” She flicked her brown hair and posed for a moment before the entire group burst into giggles. “See the guys from Eastern Galaxy?” Alicia asked, “I’ve got a bad feeling about the ‘brothers’ that are talking with them.” “I’ll check it out,” Nessa said with a frown, beautiful black eyes and bronze skin marking her as Indian so strongly that people rarely realised she was an empathic half-Betazoid. “We all know your instinct’s better than my gifts half the time.” “I’m not that good,” Alicia protested, spreading her palms in defence, “just because I picked up on the signs that Plal were heading up in the stockmarket...” “...and that as a result all of our companies made twice their normal profits for the quarter,” the fourth member of their group added, strict black hair covering her pointed ears, though no-one would miss the fact T’Plak was Vulcan. “Not forgetting the time when you continually pressured me to get out of that deal with the people from Argelian II despite the logical sense.” “Please T’Plak, it was obvious they weren’t attached to a respectable company,” Alicia said with a roll of her eyes, “What about in general? It feels horrible this year.” “I have noticed that there seems to be an overwhelming sway towards generosity, but that their words are still formal.” “I’m with you there, it stinks of sugar so much that I can’t feel what’s going on underneath, that worries me,” Nessa added with a worried bite of her lip before Juliet tapped her cheek with the fan she habitually carried, causing the lip-biting to vanish. “I’d guess people want to build up favours,” Juliet stated, curling a dark strand of hair round her finger, “That means no-one knows what’s going to happen and are being extra-careful to make as many people like them as possible. Even Kaeli are talking to the Manoe.” “Something big’s coming then,” Alicia said thoughtfully, “Something big that no-one knows who’s going to come out on top of.” Alicia thought for a few more moments as the others watched, almost like a crew waiting for orders from their Captain. “Nessa? Go flirt.” “My pleasure, those brothers do look rather good don’t they?” Nessa waved and bid goodbye with a laugh before she drifted off and let one of the darkly handsome men lead her to the table. “Julie, I know you don’t like using your civilised upbringing but...” The woman’s fan snapped shut, “The top notch? Easy as.” Juliet bid them goodbye and sailed towards the top of the table with the Plal family, every inch the cultured lady. “T’Plak, see which way the accountants are looking?” “I take that post every other year, why would it change?” The blonde human grinned widely at this, deciding to tease her Vulcan friend. “We can’t help it if you’re the only one who understands them...” “It’s really not that hard. Where will you be?” Alicia thought for a moment, “I think I’ll sit with the risk-takers, I want to see who might go bust.” There was a nod before T’Plak turned, striding towards a group she was quietly welcomed into, the slight smiles and nods acknowledging her as one of their own. Alicia grinned wolfishly before she walked forwards and was absorbed into the crowd. ----- As soon as the door chime for her quarters woke her Alicia was wide awake, a quick glance around the darkened room telling her it was 02:03 and none of her things had been moved. Another chime led her to stand, wrapping a kimono-like dressing gown round her before turning the light on and moving to the door. “Who’s there?” “Julie said if you don’t let me in she won’t give you any chocolate digestives when you next visit her.” Alicia burst out laughing and opened the door, recognising a uniquely Juliet-style threat when she heard one. She was, however, extremely surprised when she saw who was outside her door. For one thing she had to look down at the man, that was a rarity. The second thing was that he bore an uncanny resemblance to a monkey. The third was that, although he looked relaxed, his eyes were darting up and down the corridor as sharply as her own at the party. This person, in Juliet’s words, would probably be ‘completely disreputable’, the kind of person her friend would only touch with a bargepole, let alone tell to go and visit her friend at 2am. However those sharp eyes seemed to say he was as clever as Alicia, and part of her wanted to trust him. Alicia always had trusted her instincts. "I’m passing a message on from Nessa,” he said, hopping up onto the bed, “She says you were spot on as usual, those two brothers are Plax and Suvis Alcatet, owners of a small firm Plal assimilated a few months back apparently.” “How was I ‘spot on’ then? And what does Juliet have to do with this?” She was rewarded with a wide grin from the man, “You’re good, not many people see when I don’t answer the question...” “Thanks, but I’d rather you tell me what’s going on, I’ve had enough compliments today.” Alicia folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, “Not to mention why you were so eager to get inside and out of sight.” “Again, sharp.” the man commented idly, “you may want to make some tea to keep you awake. Once I’ve explained we’ll need to get going in a hurry.” That set off internal alarm bells, instinct telling her there was more to this than any conversation at dinner as she replicated two mugs of tea and handed one to him. “Explain,” she said firmly as she sat down on the bed next to him, “Who are you and why are you here?” It was unfortunate security took that moment to open the door. The weapons in their hands paused at the sight of the two sharing a cup of tea, silently questioning whether they had the right information or if they’d made a rather large mistake. “Is there a problem sirs?” Alicia asked, raising a delicate eyebrow. (She made a mental note to thank T'Plak for teaching her that) “Erm... We believe this man is an intruder ma’am, if you’ll just step aside...” He didn’t sound entirely convinced. The other gestured for her to move, but she simply took an unconcerned sip and looked to her visitor. “Albert, would you think that a respectable businesswoman like myself would willingly let a completely unknown man into her room at this hour and make them both some tea without changing out of her dressing gown?” “Not at all,” the monkey-like man replied immediately, accepting his position as ‘Albert’ instantly, “that would call her validity into question and.... and...” he paused to think, the image of a student remembering a lesson, “make them susceptible to any threats that may be directed at them or the company?” Alicia smiled like a proud teacher, “Very good, you’re picking this up quite quickly.” “Thank you miss,” the man said with a smile as Alicia turned back to the security men, eyes narrowed and tone sharp. “Albert is my intern who I sent to verify a deal, not that it’s any of your business,” she hissed, watching them shift uncomfortably, “I’m sure this has just been a misunderstanding and I thank you for your concern over my safety but I am currently in my dressing gown and so would appreciate it if those people who I do not know would leave!” “Yes ma’am, terribly sorry ma’am...” came the mumbled apology as they backed out the doorway and shut it politely, leaving the two to their tea for a moment before Alicia grinned at the man next to her. “You owe me bigtime.” “Not after what I have to tell you,” the man replied, “we’ll be even.” “So I was right, this IS important,” Alicia muttered under her breath, “Explain yourself, name and purpose.” “Name’s Cheeky. I was tracking the Alcatet’s for my own job,” the man said, resting his tea on his lap, “They’re trouble, they get commissions and from what I can tell they’ve hooked a wire into every guest bedroom in this complex.” “What???” “Relax,” he said calmly, “would I be telling you this if the one here was active?” Alicia paused, that made a lot of sense. “But you don’t know who I am, why would you do that?” “Because I checked the guest list and saw my sister was on it.” There was a silence as Alicia thought it through. His sister? But for that to connect to her it needed to be one of her friends, but there was only one pure Terran in them and, quite frankly, she could not be related to this monkey... “Unfortunately they’re monitoring all messages in and out so I had to come here myself to give Julie the warning.” Alicia blinked and stared, trying to equate the fact that this... Cheeky... was Juliet’s brother and therefore of noble birth. She wasn’t entirely succeeding. The man seemed to be trying not to laugh at her expression before continuing in a much more serious tone. “She told me to get the mikes off you three, tell you to cut your losses and get out of here.” “I can say my intern brought me an urgent business message and get out of here, but you’d better have a good reason...” “Why do you think I took the risk to personally come here and warn Julie?” he said quietly but fiercely, “I got into their files and found they’re in Plal’s pay, tomorrow morning they’re drugging the breakfast to knock you all out and take you hostage.” The gravity of the situation hit her like a sledgehammer. He’d certainly been right when he said they’d be even. But there was no time for that now, they needed to move. “The others?” “Told, they’re all either going or gone,” the monkey-like Terran replied, accepting the other empty cup and taking them back to the replicator as Alicia vanished into the bathroom with some clothes. Once she’d changed she started to pack her bag as Cheeky watched curiously. “Why did you defend me when you had no idea who I was?” Alicia paused, a skirt half-folded, “I trust my instincts and you said you had a message, I was just being a good host until I got that message.” it almost sounded like she was excusing her own actions. “Seems like there are genuinely hospitable people in business after all.” “Seems like there are hackers with a conscience too.” “Touché,” Cheeky said with a grin, “Anyone would think Juliet uses you as a substitute for me...” “She did say when I visited that it was good to have some humour around the place again,” Alicia admitted as they slipped out the doors and headed for the shuttle bay, “besides, free biscuits ask for a lot less than a free lunch.”

I have a piece of my own I've finished, I will be re-reading and checking to send in before going back to revision though

OOC: Each part of the story can be read alone, but if you want to read the other parts check out this. The Nature of a Lie... The screen jumped into life, the neatly trimmed face of an Admiral appearing on the screen in the dimly lit room. The shift in colours of the screen also changed the light sliding across smooth purple-tinted skin of those watching it, sinking into solid black eyes with only a few blinks from unfamiliarity. “Ambassadors, I regret to inform you that the USS Ascanius bearing your gifts has still not arrived.” “Still? The passage between our planets is long, but should not be too difficult...” “Do not worry, it is just that they were experiencing technical problems due to a large ion storm and so needed to stop in order to complete repairs,” the Admiral assured them, “Your gifts will be received safely.” “That is good to know,” one of the aliens replied, “though if we used our transport then I’m sure we could get...” “Oh no,” the Admiral said with a laughing smile, “Please, do not stretch your limited resources to make another set of expensive gifts, you require them for the war,” “No it really is no prob...” “I assure you,” the Admiral said firmly, “our crew is quite competent enough to deliver them safely, it simply means the date for the formal agreement will need to be moved back to a later date.” “We understand, but it is urgent that the date is soon, we require your aid desperately,” the other ambassador replied calmly. “I assure you we will do everything in our power to relieve you of this burden,” the Admiral replied before ending the call. ++++ The Yeoman standing just inside the doorway frowned disapprovingly at the man who had just leant back and let out the whistling sigh that he always did after negotiating his way through a message like that. “K’lass, stop looking at me like that..." "I am sorry sir,” the Yeoman replied stiffly, “but I cannot see why you felt the need to, well lie to them Sir.” “That’s simple,” the Admiral turned and stood, “Sometimes a little lie can make a situation much simpler, in this case it had several purposes. Firstly it saved face, these people are in the middle of a war, imagine the embarrassment if the very people they’re asking for help cannot deliver a few items on an easy journey!” He walked over to the replicator before the yeoman (still disapproving) spoke. “You said purposes sir?” “Yes I did. Tea, Red Bush,” the man picked up his mug of tea before returning to his seat, “The fact that ion storm cropped up to knock them off-course is useful in a way, Intel haven’t had any feedback from that binary system, they want us to wait until they’re certain we know what we’re dealing with. The fact that the major report they were sending is aboard the Ascanius is another reason to stall for time. The captain used to be Intel, and Julian hasn’t failed them on a mission yet. He’ll find a way to deliver that report, come Hell or high water." “Out of curiosity sir....” the yeoman asked, “How are you going to cover this next time? If the Ascanius is still missing?” The Admiral’s face was grave as he looked out the window, “We’ll have to deal with that when it comes.” ++++ “We should be wary of how well the Humans can bluff, Brother,” said the Ambassador with a deeper purple skin, turning to his counterpart, “It could prove to be our downfall.” “I know Brother,” replied the other, “however I think that we must be better at it, to catch them at their own game, not to mention stop the spies from reporting out.” “A lie can only be kept for so long Brother,” the darker one said warningly, “good or not, all it takes is one leak. That ion storm we used to cover the tractor beam will only keep them from suspecting for so long.” At this the second turned back with a slight hiss, arching his neck so that the forehead bone was straight up rather than tilted back as normal, “We have taken care of all the leaks, and thoughts like that will weaken our resolve.” “Have you forgotten that ship’s crew?” now the other was in an aggressive stance, ready to ram, “They were not all killed in the crash or by Shadow officials!” The lighter-skinned one smirked, returning to a normal posture, “You act as if someone could survive in Shadow country... let alone get out.” The other smirked too, “A good point, let us keep the pressure on them rather than us, that way they will be too busy trying to cover their own tracks to look at ours.” ++++ The Terran pilot winced as she tried to stand, not entirely surprised that an arm threaded itself under her shoulders to support her after that stumble, the Doctor was far too perceptive for her liking. “Seriously, I’m ok, I just tripped over a stone.” “You’ve been showing instances of pain while walking for the last five miles,” the doctor informed her, “somehow I doubt it’s unrelated.” “It’s not like there’s much you can do about it,” the Ensign replied tartly as she tried to shake off his arm, giving up trying to get him to stop it as her leg twinged again, nearly sending her plunging. “On second thoughts, I’ll accept the help...” “I knew it, you did something,” he said with a frown, “it doesn’t look like anything’s damaged...” “Only the jacket,” the ensign replied with a grin, patting the dusty, scuffed leather at the hip nearest him, “I really want this thing to survive though, the Captain gave it to me before we escaped the city.” “Then we’ll get it back to Starfleet in memory of him, how about that?” came the grinned reply before the ensign smiled. “So now our mission’s to protect a jacket... I feel so loved. It’s your turn if I go by the way, this thing doesn’t fit me properly anyway.” “Fair enough,” he said with a shrug, “but I think he gave it to the right person, you’re a hardy little thing...” he tried to stop the smile creeping back onto his lips, “except when you have a mild sprain.” “We can rest when we get to the proper mountains smarty pants,” she said with a mock glare, “There we can cover our tracks.” When the conversation died down Sabrina let herself think. The doctor was far closer to the truth than he realised, as she had remembered when her hand brushed the stylishly fat hem of the old jacket. She was the only one who knew the way home, if the jacket was ever going to make it back she was going to have survived. She looked up at the doctor briefly, then decided against telling him the truth. The other reason was easier to live with and would be easily accepted as a joke in the group, a lesser reason covering the true one. Was that lying? Using the truth to cover a bigger truth? She didn’t know. But life was simpler this way. ++++ Sometimes a lie is good, sometimes a lie is bad, and sometimes it’s just not telling everything you know. Only one thing about a lie is certain. The truth will out.

I kind of found out the topic for the challenge an hour ago and now mine's finished It's been a year OOC since Ensign Tia and her group crash landed on the planet, and now in the third instalment we reveal a hint of how they came to be there in the first place...

The thing is that topics like this are actually impossible for me to write as I've seen virtually nothing canon, I don't know the effects or the plots and so in essence, I can't do this challenge. Not only that but I have exams. No entry from me this time.

neither do I... they are really good and it's a hard theme

Ah I see... I get bored so I read them as they come...

Sacrificing one life to save millions. and the impressed bit was managing to get that into both of them and there was me thinking I'd be one of three entrants and so actually stand a chance of winning...

you both managed to include the same phrase... I'm impressed, and they're good stories.

that sounds like a good time to get it in

I would offer, but i'm not going to be here either tomorrow well, not for a large chunk anyway.. but I'm sure very few of the active members here would refuse. (Thank you! )

I like the assembly, and you even made me jump at the end, as my character's name is Cara Maria.... you can see why I jumped, is it her name or what he thinks of her?

That I agree with, I don't actually mind the negative bits or the fact I haven't won a challenge because it means I actually get feedback (rare for me) and knowing that more than just one person had read and appreciated my stories, that's enough for me. So how's everyone's entries coming on?

*long yawn* Are we going to keep beating this dead horse forever? Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something here...? (Probably doesn't help that I'm asleep but never mind.)

The point about grammar definitely was a point though, I use grammer oddly, it usually works better to my mind, however it doesn't read so well. And inspiration struck, I didn't actually mean to write my entry until I had more time. I guess that tactic didn't work

This was not a normal city. For a start the city didn’t begin, if you wanted to continue the statement it would take forever, so the conclusion was that it didn’t end. Space was warped here, countries were neighbourhoods, a conventional town was a flattened planet, and it was all spread out flat and within easy walking distance wherever you were. In short, you had to be as warped as it was for it to make sense. However that didn’t mean the inhabitants didn’t go for a drink every so often, even the recluses went to the quiet pubs for a game of pool and some political debate. It was in one of the rougher bars that a Terran walked in, gold-bronzed skin and jet-black hair marking him as a Spaniard, the razor of a nose and slightly flared cheekbones almost giving him the look of a hawk that in anyone else might be considered feminine. He sprawled easily in a seat, his status made him obliged to choose this pub to haunt, though his clothes were well cut, flattering his easy grace as a familiar waitress served him his favourite wine from the fields near Zaragoza. He closed his eyes and sipped, the liquid conjuring pictures of home until he opened his eyes to see an argument taking place at the table next to him. The Spaniard wasn’t exactly surprised, those three were always bickering over their cards... “Oiga!” he called over, “If you can’t handle your Cards quietly, callate!” “You ain’t in the game!” one called with a thick Irish accent as the Englishman and American made angry noises about their hands, drawing attention back to the game. The Spaniard stood and walked over, fully intending to yell when he saw the game they were playing when he paused. “You guys were attempting to play Duel Poker?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, “Gods it hurts the eyes...” “We’re good at it!” protested the drunk Englishman as his Irish friend said much the same thing. “You guys wouldn’t know how to play it if the rules were put directly into your minds,” commented the Spaniard dryly as he pulled out his own deck of Cards with the distinctive picture plates that shimmered slightly in the dim light. The other three grinned and their Cards immediately shuffled themselves and sat by their right hands as the third man took a seat. The Spaniard rarely deigned to associate himself with these types, but it seemed he was making an exception today, and no-one here had ever seen him take out his Cards. The bartender immediately raised the beer prices, this was going to be one heck of a spectacle. ---- “Deal.” The cards landed in front of Anton Mil in downtown Zaragoza and he picked them up, a swill of synthahol running down his throat as he studied his cards, then placed a button in the centre. No-one played with real latinum here, the buttons served as representatives for the on-running competition between the guys, tallied on a grimy sheet of paper next to the dingy bar. The cascade of buttons ended and Anton withdrew two cards from his hand and tossed them down, a discard. The cards stopped in mid air, smoke also freezing in place as the Spaniard spoke, “This person and the bar make a good combination of cards, but my other cards don’t fit the situation, they simply wouldn’t be here. I need a better placement card, and hence he goes with it.” “Oh shuddup and play.” The two cards landed on the table, the man frozen and a view down the full bar. The Spaniard picked up two more from his deck and raised an eyebrow, “Interesting, yes, these will create an okay hand.” “My turn,” the American grunted, and the game continued. The others discarded and picked up, the infinite probability of a good hand with a deck this large, and plenty of arguing over the best hand... They showed with grins and winks, a clear win for the Irishman... However the Spaniard still held his up in a fan, dark eyes studying the other men with a disquieting glint in them, “Ready?” “Just show yer Cards.” “You asked for it....” His hand snapped round, six cards shooting onto in a glowing arc the table face up as he gave a command, voice sharp as the cards burst into a dazzle of light. “Ignite!” ---- Footsteps wafted hauntingly through the empty corridor lifted above the main bustle of the city as the sun started to rise, arrowing through the corridor, beams of light forming blocks of light on the opposite wall. Perfect in sunlit silence on this rib above the city. She supposed it was okay before the others came, soon this corridor would fill with bustling, yelling people, chatting eagerly amongst themselves about Sarah-down-the-road or Mr-so-and-so. But that wouldn’t be the worst bit, every flinch, every spring of guilt, every angry explosion would crowd her vision, buzz of nerves would mix the sounds and she would be buffeted on all sides by so much that her eyes unfocused, having to trust the crowd to carry her in the mess of sight. At least she could get some quiet to do her work in before the day started... “Early again Mil?” the male voice startled her out of her thoughts as her tutor entered the highest corridor in the school. “Yes sir, the school’s beautiful this early in the morning,” came the soft reply, dark eyes tracing a building. “Really?” the young teacher yawned, “I never noticed.” The girl remained quiet, returning to gazing out the windows at the city below her, glinting in the new dawn. It was a pity it was only now and in the evening it looked nice, light reflecting and shimmering off windows and aerials, it would lose its splendour later, return to faded bricks and grimy glass, it was a pity, light could be so enchanting as it rippled through the city... “I don’t believe I have ever been here before you in the time I’ve been here,” the man came to stand next to her, surveying the city below them, thinking, though the subjects were most likely quite different, as his next statement implied. “And you’re always looking out the window, always. Just standing completely still until your friend comes.” Again Cara didn’t reply and remained looking out, but her attention on the man. He was working himself up to saying something, all she had to do was wait until he came out with it, people liked to fill silence. “Why are you always so quiet Cara?” The 15-year-old’s eyes lost the sparkle they’d had, like shutters had closed behind them and shut off the internal light. “That’s a very personal question sir.” “That’s why I was asking it, I am concerned about your mental welfare and your happiness, being at school at the crack of dawn every day hardly seems social.” For an instant Cara thought he was referring to her empathy before she shook herself, very few knew about that aspect of her, they’d be scared of her and taunt her for it, she’d seen the fear in their eyes. “I was expecting a reply.” “I was thinking of how I could reply,” she said quietly, looking out the window again, carefully considering what to say before settling on a metaphor, turning to the window. “Look down at the courtyard sir, what do you see? “That doesn’t answer my question,” “What do you see?” The teacher sighed and decided to humour her, “I see an empty courtyard.” “The people from the bus are about to arrive, then there will be something to see, you can watch and guess about what’s going on down there, see how students move through the crowd to find their friends.” He didn’t get it, she thought with a sigh, and explained. "If you watch until registration comes you can see how the groups of people move and fluctuate, you might even see the vague groups, bookworms, plastics, gangsters. If you watch at lunch you can see them more clearly, maybe from a different angle so you see people hiding in the corners. If you watch over many days you start to recognise people, follow through an argument and it’s affect on those around, it’s amazing how much you can see if you watch.” “I don’t see what you’re trying to tell me.” “Then watch and you’ll see what I mean, you don’t have to speak to be part of the group, like the person sitting in the old buildings.” “She’s not even part of it!” “You can see her can’t you?” The teacher remained silent until the bell rang and the rest of the class entered and as always the girl turned from the window and quietly talked with her friend. Once more the scene froze, though it rewound to where the girl’s eyes reflected the school below. “See? I got mine to Ignite when I put together the girl, Dawn, and the corridor with Outside Influence, in this case a teacher, and the action Watch. I will now bring my sixth card, Switch Perspective, into play.” “Watch is boring, and besides, you aren’t allowed to switch perspective to an Outside Influence! It has to be a Main Character!” The Spaniard smirked. “Shows you much you know, you can if it’s the same situation or a continuation.” Something about that conversation was still niggling at the teacher's mind later when he had a free lesson to work. It irritated him that she knew something he didn’t understand. With an irritable sigh he stood with his mug of coffee and moved to the window overlooking the rest of the school. He frowned as his eyes wandered through other windows, students sitting, talking, sleeping, one was even chucking a paper aeroplane and his mouth twitched slightly in a smile, remembering his own schooldays. The teacher’s eyes remained on the boy, who was now having to explain himself to his colleague, eyes wide and innocent behind flashing glasses. That blank look was so common, reflecting false innocence to the teacher, who was normally forced to give up as she had done. The eyes flickered in glee for a moment before he turned to the person behind and continued his conversation. The watching member of staff turned to another window, and another. In each class he saw the same things, lessons, pupils, talking, what has that girl been getting at? He returned to his work frowning, he had wasted enough time already on the girl’s little game, eyes flitting from one piece of paper to the next busily, burying himself in thoughts other than the riddle buzzing round his mind. Needless to say he returned to the window a few minutes later, eyes stormy, he still saw nothing, just normal boring people, nothing more, nothing less. He slammed his fist against the glass, feeling it reverberate with a gentle hum. Far below in the old classroom Cara tilted her head on one side slightly, watching the teacher high above become frustrated, framed in the small patch of sky that was visible. She had known he wouldn’t understand, he would never understand until he had learned patience and let the veil of anger spread itself on the wind. With a slow blink Cara watched, fascinated, as rainbows skittered across her eyelashes to be replaced by golden light and back again. Even when she moved her attention to the teacher the blue sky out the window caught her eye once more and she couldn't help but look, hypnotised. “Miss Maria-Mil, what is the author thinking about?” Cara’s eyes returned unconcernedly to her Spanish teacher, “The dream of the freedom that embodies forever, Miss.” “Anything else?” Cara was about to speak when the window caught her attention and her eyes slid over to it, “the way the character knows the dream is unachievable but cannot help but try.” “Excellent evaluation Miss Mil, however I would appreciate it if you looked like you were paying attention in lesson.” Cara didn’t reply, she wasn’t expected to, just looked up at the teacher, benign shutters behind her eyes again. However once the teacher had moved away her eyes moved back to the window and wondered how long it would take him to see and how long it would be until she could see more than a square of periwinkle forever. ---- The camera stretched away, looking back at the girl through the window before it froze, the girl’s eyes still watching them, reflecting the square of pure sky. The colours of the large screen faded and split into the normal six individual pearlescent plates on the Cards before they deck shot back into the Spaniard’s raised hand with a snap. The imperious gaze challenged the other men with a smirk. “That, gentlemen, is how you play Duel Poker.” The silence was broken with an American drawl, “You play too much.” “No, I just spend my time actually getting to know my city,” he replied in a slightly scathing tone, forefinger flicking a card out of the deck that spiralled to land on the table, pearly plate parting to reveal the girl. “That little beauty is one of my favourite cards, however she can only be used in a certain time frame, limiting what I can do with her, a risky card, but it can pay off.” He studied the card for a moment with the body shot of the girl rotating before the pearly screen closed in and it slid back into his pack of Cards, “Whoever has that girl as a woman is a lucky person indeed if they know how to use her, she’s a good Card.” He slotted her back into his deck, eyes on the Cards as he next spoke, “However it’s not just the cards, to be a good player you need to spend time getting to know your city, the bond pays off, unlike drinking in here all day,” the Spaniard quipped, turning from the table. However a faintly blue-silver hand held him back and the shorter man turned, raising an eyebrow at the person who had detained him. “Yes?” “I think we ought to play as a tag-team sometime,” the man said, skin shimmering as he spoke with a hint of a grin under pale white-silver hair. “You know something that I don’t,” he stated eventually as the crowd drifted off, drawing a smile from the stranger. “Correct, let me introduce myself,” the silvery hand was extended, Terran-style, to the Spaniard, “I am the USS Independence, you are Zaragoza I presume?” “Maybe,” Zaragoza replied with a wary look, “Why do you ask?” “Because that little girl is a very interesting Card,” the white-haired being replied cryptically. However the Spaniard grinned, getting the connection, “You’re a lucky man aren’t you?” “Indeed I am,” they replied with a grin, “I think that a tag team may work nicely between us.” “Certainly," The spaniard offered him a seat, "would you like to sit and talk about our Cards for a while? Our cities can wait for a bit, it's not like we'll miss anything, not here anyway.” ---- The city twinkled in the darkness, a beautiful spectacle that stretched forever and seemed to reside on the edge of reality and all the forces that came with it, time, space, life, death... and yet it was tied by a thin line to everywhere in the universe... somehow. Cara was watching it as the sun rose.

Well, er... mine are NEVER written like that... but I am considering a similar theme in two different situations. A city on the edge of eternal nothing, or the city life of cara that I keep ending up avoiding.

Oops, yes there WAS a bit of Cara's past that I keep writing into my challenge entries but then cutting out... maybe the next one should be on the life there and stay as the life there... purely because everything of mine cross references...

currently Cara is back on DS17 and is watching the science department being trashed and used for a gorn base while a civilian in there just went mildly beserk with a pickaxe ok, so it was an andorian with his 'purely ceremonial' ice mining tool, but it can function as a pickaxe are you in this battle toni?

Thank you, I tried to upload one I just finished which is actually Cara, but I think I changed it too recently for it to want to change it again

Sorry, I didn't realise I was still logged in as you...

It has enough official language for me and it makes sense. (However I think I submitted the title wrong, yes I am an idiot... *whacks head on desk*)

So so true... I've lost count of the times I've been up late because I'm talking to someone over in america... or more commonly 8 miles away