<div dir="ltr"><span id="m_-7135545450485620989gmail-docs-internal-guid-fa327b8d-7fff-af71-0b28-4f98310c9e7f"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Mission: The Tholian Brief</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Day:1</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Stardate: 2446.09.10</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(32,31,30);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">(Starbase Freedom - Level 11 - Main Medical Center- Station CO  - Captain Casian Dahr - 1300)</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(32,31,30);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">When Dahr heard that the CMO from the Illuminar had turned up to collect her fallen officer he was a little surprised. They weren’t expected for another hour. The fact that she was trying to get him released was another surprise. He was their only living witness to the attack. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(32,31,30);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Such incursions, though not every day, had become more frequent since he had taken over the base a few months ago. And this Michael Weston wasn’t going anywhere until he’d had a chance to chat with him. After all, he was the only one caught up in the explosion on a promenade that was not empty. The Trill was not one to live with coincidences. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">When Weston arrived three days ago he hadn’t checked in with anyone. It took some doing to identify him at all. His file had been tagged highly classified. He was only able to get what he got because of his own status. Then, what he got was so heavily redacted that it read like random words written in pages. However the last thing he read in the file thrilled him even less. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Michael Weston is currently considered an unreliable source of information and is not longer considered a viable operative for Starfleet Intelligence. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">He’d been burned and was now hiding out on the Illuminar for the past six months. Now Dahr was not familiar with Captain Sekal, but he did know his father, Saleke. If the son was anything like his father he would not have suffered someone like that without a reason. It wasn’t the number one reason, but it was at the top of a short list of reasons Dahr didn’t just jettison him out of an air lock already. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">He wasn’t fond of the Intelligence community.  They served a purpose, but the general way that they served that purpose didn’t usually sit well with Dahr.  and this Weston seemed to be the same.  He brought with him a ship load of trouble.  The fact that he didn’t make two days on his station before things began to explode around him.  He did take the precaution of bringing his chief of security with him.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">They stepped into the Medical Center and he looked around for Peele.  A nurse indicated to her office and Dahr made his way there.  He stepped inside.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Doctor,” he said, announcing his presence.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Captain,” Peele replied.  She looked at Samuels and nodded.  “I think we can step down from DefConn 4, sir.  I don’t think the Illuminar is here for trouble.  Just an overly concerned CMO and her… well, I might as well say it… her romantic entanglement.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“But he is awake?” Hank Samuels asked, always the consummate security chief.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Yes, Lt. Samuels,” she said, a little exasperated, “he is awake, and you can talk to him.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Good,” the security chief said and headed out the office. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Dahr and Peele followed as Casian asked, “How is he doing?”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Surprisingly well,” she replied. “His injuries have all, for the most part, healed. He doesn’t seem to have any long lasting affects of the concussion. I get the impression that he kept himself in that coma so his body could heal quickly.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Dahr stoped and looked at her in surprise as she answered the lol, “No, he’s most assuredly not Vulcan. But it seems to be something like that.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">They continued walking. “And it’s just too damn convenient that he woke up just as Dr. Solice arrived.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Almost like he planned it?” Dahr asked. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Maybe,” Peele agreed. “But how would he know she’d come.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“How indeed?” the Trill asked, more to himself than to her. </span></p><br><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-a8c9676a-7fff-7817-8de7-4e6275efe51c"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">As they entered the room Peele noted that the two security people from the Illuminar were no longer there.  She assumed they were inside but when they went in they were gone.</span><span style="background-color:transparent;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:11pt"> </span></p></span><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Dahr stepped forward, Lt. Michael Weston, I’m Captain Casian Dahr, the CO of this station.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Michael struggles to sit up a little better. “Captain Dahr, yes, of course. It’s an honor to meet you.  I’d stand but I’m afraid one of these doctors would throw me back down on this bio-bed in a most inglorious manner.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Dahr nodded and stepped up to the bed to shake the man’s hand. He was, if nothing else, quite personable. “No need for that. I’ve been intrigued to meet you as well.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Intrigued?” Weston looked at the Trill with curiosity. “Not sure I’m worth all that consideration.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Well ,you’ve gotten the attention of my security people,” he motioned his head towards Samuels. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“I guess it’s not every day someone blows someone up on your station,” Michael said, trying to keep the conversation light. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“More often than one might think,” Dahr admitted. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Samuels stepped forward and interrupted, “I’m thinking that you might have an eye for detail that others might not notice.  Did you see anything odd before the explosion?”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Michael shook his head, “It’s still all kinda fuzzy. I was just there for a cup of coffee. Really.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“What brings you to Freedom?” Samuels asked. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Just doing some research,” Michael said. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Research?  What kind of research could you possibly be doing on a diplomatic starbase?”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Just some stuff for a report I’m working on,” he replied, not committing himself any further. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The security chief wasn’t going to be put off that easily. “What kind of a report?”</span></p><br><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“I’m sorry,” Michael said, sounding confused, “why would that be important?”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“To be honest, you show up in the company of a known Andorian spy, sporting some serious injuries that appear to have been given to you by Klingons, and then you are caught in an explosion.  Excuse me if I’m curious.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Michael thought for a moment and replied, “What can I say?  I’m into full contact research.  Beyond that I’m not at liberty to say.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“You’re not at liberty to…,” the security chief stepped forward but was held back by Dahr.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Easy there, Hank,” he said calmly,  Then he turned to Weston. “Okay, Lieutenant.   But you will oblige me to stay on Freedom until we get to the bottom of this explosion.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Michael nodded, “Of course.  That was my plan anyway.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“And perhaps we can discuss your… research… at a later time,” Dahr suggested.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“I hope so, Captain Dahr,” Weston said.  </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Then I will leave you to your recovery,” the Trill said.  “I’m sure that you are in good hands.”  He turned to Quinna, “Doctor, a pleasure.”  Then he turned to Peele, “Doctor, good luck with this one.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Yeahhhh,” Peele replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “thanks.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">With that the CO turned to leave, the security chief following.  Peele looked at Weston and shook her head.  “Well, looking at these readings, and gauging by your conversation with Casian, I think I can safely release you from sickbay, under the watchful eyes of Dr. Solace.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She nodded at Quinna and smiled.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">(reply Quinna)</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“But if anything comes up,” she said, pointing a finger at him, “and I mean any problem, your are to get your butt back here on the double.  Is that clear, mister.”</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Crystal,” Michael said with a smile.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She looked at Solice and put out a hand.  “A pleasure to meet you Doctor Solice.  Perhaps we can get together over the next few days and get to know each other.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">(reply Quinna)</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">With that she left as Michael turned his body to get up from the biobed.  He stopped, realizing that his clothes hadn't exactly survived he explosion.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">“Ummm… some clothes might be nice,” he said, looking at Quinna playfully.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">(reply Quinna)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">(posted by Al Muir) </span></p><br><br></span></div>