Author's note: Yes ascem was a mess in the last time. Yes the times there were rough. Since my muse have seen this all, she said 'no way' and then she vanished and left me with an unfinished story.The things around me don't leave me unaffected. But since it takes usually long for me to put my thoughts together (especially in English), I remain watching and listening. And all of this I'm absorbing and then putting together in my mind. The result of it is almost always a new story. And yes, in my most difficult moments I'm always totally switching the perspectives, turning over 180 degrees. And using the irony, I humour the absurdity of the situation. Forgive me, but this is the Czech in me. And sometimes it is the only way to keep my nerves healthy and to survive. Disclaimer: the TSU was the idea of Jen Chapman. English is not my native language, please forgive me my errors. THE WAR ZONE!!! Written by Arachnethe2 Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Marla Twiggy and this is the TSU Special made for you by your FQNN!! Since several months is our friendly, tolerant and always happy fuh-q country shaken through the latest happenings in our neighbourhood ASCEM. And especially through the latest war conflict onto the campus of the once famous TrekSmut University. The latest horrible messages let us fuh-q citisen any other choice, than to believe, that this once so unique university, which in its ground year became the symbol of practised IDIC is today only a pale shadow of itself. And we, concerned fuh-q citicen, are seriously worried about the people still dwelling in the former War Zone. And asking ourselves seriously over and over: can't the ascem people be ever happy again? Can they ever find to themselves after they went through? And the most important question: can the writers there, being so damaged by those horrible happenings, ever write again? Watch the FQNN with us today!!! The corridors of the TOS faculty were dark and empty. Full of signs of the latest battle, which weren't still removed. A single Vulcan was climbing through the remnants of the barricades, murmuring to hirself: "...silent, it is so silent here..." T'Pat's hurry had indeed its logical reason. Three of hirs newbees were lost, since they wanted to eat something in the former TSU cafeteria, now Neelix's Field Kitchen. There was a demonstration at the remnants of the once famous Fountain and these poor new persons got lost. Not good in those rough times. T'Pat sighed in an un-vulcan way and continued in its careful walk. The area of the TOS faculty should been declared for clean from trolls but still, one has to be careful... Empty corridors in the whole building. It was almost a wonder, that there were still some writers, working fiercely onto their stories, never mind the battle directly behind the doors of their offices. Suddenly there was a strange movement behind one of the corners. And a strange voice: "Catch it!" The Vulcan pressed hirself against the wall, hir hand ready to apply the vulcan grip. Something small and round run toward hir and tried to hide under hirs robe. "T'Pat! Catch it!" Again this voice. T'Pat bent and picked up the strange being. It looked like a large wash sponge with hundreds of tentacles. 'Probably the feet', the Vulcan thought, while watching the sponge changing its colour. "Thanks gods of all the clouds on Stratos," the voice stopped in front of T'Pat. "Istannor!" "Yes, it's me," the clouded entity reached one of its tentacles toward the being in T'Pat's arms. The sponge turned dark brown. T'Pat's fingers registered a wave of disgust. 'A sentient being, fascinating!' "It doesn't want to get back," Istannor said. "Who is it?" "The Indicator," the cloud replied, "it lives onto my homeworld. It can't speak but is communicating through the changing of its colours. What do you want?" Istannor turned to the Indicator. The Indicator, turned bright green. "Ah I see... It wants to remain by you, T'Pat." "Ah... fascinating, it has indeed some relaxing impulse on me..." "Like a tribble," the cloud made an equivalent for a laughter. "Then keep it, if you wish. Btw, what are you doing in the war zone?" The Vulcan sighed in concern: "I have lost my three newbees. I'm responsible for their safety. They are only for some days few here..." "Hmmm...," Istannor made an equivalent for the thinking posture, "well, I didn't see them, but you can still ask in greywolf's office." "He is still here?" "Yes, he is still working stubbornly onto his story. Well I have better to go," the entity handed a PADD to the Vulcan, "there are the most important translations of the Indicator's colours. Greywolf made them some time ago." "I thank you, Istannor." T'Pat made an Ta'al greeting and hurried farther. The door of greywolf's office was closed. T'Pat had to knock several times until someone opened. To the Vulcan's shock a fat angel stood at the threshold, hers arms folded in a way, that hers heavy bosom got even more impressive. A pair of greyish wings covered any possible view into the inner parts of the office. "Yes?" The angel moved 'encouragingly' her smoking havana from one corner of her mouth into another. The Vulcan almost gulped. The Idicator in hirs arms turned violet. "Marva!" "Its me, green boy..." "But...but I have thought, that the biker TJ is greywolf's protective angel!" "He was," Marva put the havana out of her mouth nonchalantly. Some of the ashes fell onto T'Pat's robe. "But he wasn't protective enough!" "Against the trolls? I have heard, that there was a battle directly in front of greywolf's office." "Not only," Marva smiled a smile, that even the Vulcan's blood almost froze, "I'm here to protect the writer's privacy even against such a plomeek - shitter like you. At the order of greywolf's editor and beta." BANG! The door of greywolf's office closed with a noisy bounce. Leaving a shocked Vulcan and a violet Indicator alone in the corridor. "Hi T'Pat, what are you holding in your arms?" The Vulcan jumped up and then immediately xe eased hir posture. "Vanasati!" "Yes, me..." The young woman in a long gypsy skirt leaned tired against the wall. "Having a hard day?" "Yeah, don't tell me..." The Indicator turned pink. "What is it?" Vanasati pointed at the pink sponge with hundreds of tentacles. "It's an Indicator. It lives onto Istannor's planet. Well this colour should mean something. Just a moment," xe put the PADD out of hirs robe and found the right colour there. "Hot baby." "Me?" Vanasati blushed, "thank you," she said to the Indicator. The sponge turned rose. "Wanna a date with me?" T'Pad read from the PADD. "Ah... I ..." Just right now Vanasati's communicator chimed. "Vanasati here... Hi Ara, you are where? Wait I will mark it onto your map..." she made some steps to the door of an another office, where hang a large map of Germany. Vanasati picked up a small flag with the shield 'I'M RIGHT THERE', but then her hand stopped. "What? You are where? Ara...Ara?" The connection was interrupted. "Well..." she turned first at T'Pat and then back to the map, "at last we will meet there," and then she put the flag into Hannover. "Expotrek Con?" The Vulcan asked in curiosity... "Yeah... Are you searching someone, my friend?" "Yes, my three lost newbees." "Well, try it in the Hall of Ancient Stories..." And we are here again! FQNN special about the serious situation onto the campus of the TSU! My name is Marla Twiggy and my guest here in the studio is our famous writer kira-nerys.! Kira' you have told us, that you have a possible solution, which should improve immensely the mood of the very depressed people there on ascem. Yes, Marla, darling. I'm intensively meditating each morning, noon and evening, to send the waves of positive energy directly into the ascem country. That's a wonderful idea Kira'. You mean, you are making some good vibes, like the hippies in the early seventeen's? No, not exactly. Those vibrations are produced through a special esoteric method, which... Really Kira' ? And I have always thought, that dildos are rather of erotic nature... The Hall of Ancient Stories, former Hall of the Treksmut Goddess, was crowded with people and full of letters, which were stickled onto every piece of the wall, spread all over the floor or simply snowing gently onto the beings sprawled over the improvised sofas, sitting on the bottom or simply standing. And all of them were reading the old, reposted stories. Some persons moved silently here and there with trays full of cognac, chocolate and wet towels. "Greetings," someone said behind T'Pat. "Greetings cousin Selek," the Vulcans exchanged the Ta'al sign. "A drink?" Selek asked. "That would be satisfactory, thank you." T'Pat wanted to lift the glass to hirs mouth, when a single tentacle reached out from the Indicator. The both Vulcans listened to the satisfied gulps, which continued so long until all glasses onto Selek's tray were empty. "Fascinating," Selek commented, "what is it?" "This is an Idicator," someone answered for T'Pat. The Vulcan turned, to look directly into the eyes of the most famous ambassador. Sarek in all his grace and dignity put the trace with cognac into his left hand and with his right one he touched the sponge. It turned dark gold. "Good stuff," Sarek translated the meaning of the colour. The Indicator made a certain, obvious sound in affirmation. "Do you know this species, Ambassador?" "Yes, I meet them, during my negotiations onto Istannor's planet." Sarek patted the Indicator once more, which colour changed into a shiny blur of red, blue and silver. "Good party," Sarek translated again, "I know," he said then toward the being, then he bowed to these two Vulcans and continued in his way. "He is serving with you all the time?" T'Pat asked Selek in disbelieve. "Yes," Selek beamed totally un-vulcanly, "he is sooo cu... I mean helpful." "Yes.. yes..., cousin?" "Yes cousin?" "Didn't you see some newbees of me?" Selek shook his head in regret. T'Pat's frustration deepened. Now he was really running out of hirs options. We citizen of the fuh-q country are very concerned about Dina Lerret, the moderator of ascem. Concerned and worried and simultaneously in awe at her bravery. Some of us happy fuh-quers are asking ourselves, if this all is still worth to keep so much effort to maintain a group, which obviously costs too much energy and healthy nerves of a single gentle person? Does anyone on ascem care about the so hard working moderator? "Ahhh Steven...no, yes... yes... there right there... you are good, ohmy ...oh my goooood... this is the best thing in the last week!" "Sure Dina an orderly back rub is the best thing, which could happen to a moderator after a day like this." "Yes, again we broke all the records in the usenet." "This reminds me onto the situation on asc in the summer 97." "You mean the big flame war against the slashers?" "Don't remind me... here..." "What is it? Oh a new story from OZ! Steven, you are the best!" "All for a fellow moderator... Hey Tuvok, take an another polish for Dina's toes..." "Aye sir..." "Nice orchid Tuvok." "Thank you ma'am" Citizen of the fuh-q country, now comes one of the highlights of our today's FQNN special! Two of our brave reporters have managed to get directly into the war zone to report out from there only for you! "Thank you Marla. Happy citizen of the fuh-q country, I'm Biddie Chick and I have managed a top interview with one of the most famous members of the TSU. Ladies and gentlemen welcome with me Karmen Ghia here in front of the camera!" "Hi," Karmen smiled into the lens, all stunning in the cool- looking, black battle gear, "and I'm not alone, I have brought my assistant with me." The camera turns and takes a grinning Chekov into its focus. "Well," Biddie coughed to get some attention, the camera got the clue and turned back to her. "Well, ahem Karmen, please tell the fuh-q citizen about your new battle method against the trolls." "Yes, it is a hot new method called 'the killing of files'." "She is very elegant while doing it...," Chekov said... "Oh yeah Pavel, dorogoy moy..." "Yes Karmen, dushinka moya..." "Ahem," Biddie coughed again, "would you please make a small demonstration for the fuh-q people?" Reluctantly, Karmen turned away from her favourite Russian toward the reporter: "Of course Chick, do you see them?" the reporter looked into the corner. Some small, innocent files were shaking there, awaiting obviously their worst destiny. "You don't mean... these little innocent files?. You... you... beast...come here sweeties..." "Don't Biddie! Don't open them... PAVEL!" A big blinding flame came out of the opened files, trying to destroy Biddies expensive outfit... "PAVEL FIRE!" "Naa vragaaaa...!!!!!" Checkov yelled out and fired at the rest in the corner. Elegantly he killed all of the remained sources of danger. "Biddie...", Karmen patted the unconscious reporter onto her cheek, "Biddie, wake up, the danger is over..." "Chick!" Chekov snorted. "Ah Pavel..." "What Karmen, syerdushko moyo..." "You were ...Ohhh molodyec..." The camera was turned off. "Tsss, T'Pat!" "Hafital! What...?" T'Pat stopped at the threshold of the former Office of Kirkology. The room was empty, since Jungle kitty left and now... The Vulcan, driven by hirs oh so Vulcan curiosity peered in over Hafital's shoulder. An old table stood in the middle, lots of plans being spread over t and some people were bending over them, discussing silently. "The Ceepees? What are they doing here?" "They have decided to open a permanent exchange office in the area of our faculty. Isn't it great?" "Oh ,yes..." Again T'Pat threw hir look at Raku, who has been arguing with Helmboy. Brita and A.Kite listened carefully. The Ceepees... here... But on the other side, when the whole TOS faculty suffered under the decease of the K/S Purity, who would have known that this dangerous virus could be cured through Janeway/Neelix slash? "What are you all working on?" T'Pat asked back. "We are making plans for the reconstruction of the Fountain. The people of the Voy faculty are the experts onto the area of the forming of a double ridge. We hare in TOS took all from Spock's perspective, but if you will take it from Tuvok's one, then the whole thing suddenly changes." Hafital beamed enthusiastically, "it is really a new and very fascinating concept. I'm just right now starting the study about the individual shape of the doubled ridge by every Vulcan..." "Ahem..." T'Pat coughed slightly to hide hirs embarrassment... "Ahem... well," Hafital caught herself again, "but the most important think is to make our Fountain to cum again..." "What happened to the troll, whose have tied hirself to it?" "He exploded..." Hafital spread her hands, leaving the end of the sentence hanging in air. But T'Pat knew the rest anyway: the troll exploded and the Fountain too. But it must cum again. Again T'Pat looked at Raku and the busy Ceepees. "Can I do something for you T'Pat?" Hafital asked. "I'm searching after my three lost newbees. Weren't they here?" "No T'Pat, I'm sorry, but I think, that someone is in the Spockologists lounge. Try there..." "I thank you Hafital." "You are welcome T'Pat. And T'Pat?" "Yes Hafital?" "Nice ping sponge in your arms..." The Vulcan went to the Spockologists lounge. And now my dear fuh-q citizen, I will show you the second sensational report from the war zone on ascem. A report, which only leaves us worried and concerned not only about the current circumstances on the TSU, but about the whole future of ascem. Yes ladies and gentleman. I mean all the important pylons of the freedom: the democracy and the right to express the own meaning openly. But we have the right to ask ourselves: is this current status on ascem really the end of IDIC on TSU? Dear fuh-q citizen, welcome here with me my colleague Bob Prikky! Hi Marla! Hello Bob! How are you? Oh don't worry, I'm very well. Is this your new hairdo? Oh yes. It is the hit in the last time, everyone is wearing it here. Oh Marla I seriously didn't know, the connection to home from here is really bad. So, Bob, we will not waste our time anymore. Tell us, what's new onto the TSU campus? Well Marla there is our latest shot... Ladies and gentlemen, fuh-q citizen, my name is Bob Prikky and I'm reporting for FQNN about the latest political situation on TSU! A wide corridor somewhere in the TSU building. A group of seriously affected people is standing in front of a large paper, hanging onto the wall. "I can't believe, what she wrote here!" One of the persons stepped in front of the group, showing with hirs thumb onto the text of the latest message. "This is a fucking insult, written there. I will not give any shit for even a single word. Who is the author of this posting? I will not give a damm..." The heat of the speech was interrupted by a voice, coming probably from everywhere: "ATTENTION, ATTENTION, THIS GROUP IS ON A MODERATED STATUS. THINK OVER, WHAT YOU ARE SAYING HERE!" "Shut the fuck up!" The unknown one spat. "IS THIS YOUR LAST WORD?" "Yes, dammit!" "ARE YOU SURE?" "Come here you coward and face me. I'm sure as hell!" And then the sirens went on, an aired message: "FLAME ALLERT FLAME ALLERT! THIS IS NOT AN EXERSIZE, I REPEAT THIS IS NOT AN EXCERSIZE!" And then an single human male, clad in the uniform of a starship captain materialised in front of the flamer. "Q!" The crowd whispered in awe. "Oui," Q beamed at the people and then at the flamer, " c'est moi, mon ami!" "Who are you?" The flamer still kept hirself ready to let hirs flame out in the next moment. "I'm the regent of this university. And who are you, little worm?" "I'M THE..." "I know, I know, cherie. The real live is a mess, your psychiater took holiday and your everyday busyness in the restroom isn't the usual one. Believe me, full guts can really get onto the nerves. Not that a Q would ever need to sit onto the toilette..." "ARRGHHHHH...!!!!" Was the only intelligible response coming from the flamer. "Oh well, so you are not giving up. Did I understood you right? Well, then..." Q put one his hand around the flamer's shoulders, suddenly holding a tooth brush in the second one. "I really don't like this kind of activity, but by Johnny's holy boxers, you aren't giving me any other choice... Time for your mouth cleansing!" The flamer's eyes widened in horror. The door to the Spockologists lounge was opened. An unusual spectacle in the last time. The parties stopped long ago, the writers were either working onto their stories, or serving in the first front onto the battle field. So T'Pat was more, that surprised to find several legs under the table and one behind a sofa. "Who is there?" A woman arose from behind the cushions, holding a bag in her hand. "Robin?" "Yeah, me..." "But what... I thought, that you are onto the newbee party in the fuh-q country?" "I will get there later." Robin picked up the last empty can and tossed it into the bag. "I wanted only to clean here a bit." "To clean here?" "Yes, you know, Ara is so tidy... I miss the parties here." "Robin?" A pair of the legs under the table asked, "what is it?" "Show me darling." The three pairs of legs showed, that they belonged to three bodies and the bodies... "My newbees!" "Hi T'Pat!" The three former lurkers looked innocently at the surprised Vulcan. "They were standing outside the door," Robin grinned, "so I took them in." "Yes," one of the lurkers beamed happily, "we are helping with the cleansing." "And we have found something." "Show me," Robin repeated again and reached out her hand. The lurker handed her a small black box with an imprint on it. Reading it, Robin caught her breath. No, impossible, but still after all the chaos, this thing from the old times existed farther. "What is it?" T'Pat couldn't restrain hirself. Wordlessly Robing handed it to the Vulcan. The puzzled looks of the lurkers followed her motion. "T'Pat? Robin?" "This...," T'Pat's voice broke for a moment, but then the Vulcan remained hirself onto hirs role of the teacher and protector of every newbee and taking a more dignified posture xe said: "This, my pupils, is a very unique document. Once it served to the legendary Killa as the source of inspiration for her story Surrender." The eyes of the lurkers got bright: "Killa? You mean Killa? She really existed? What is onto this tape?" "Onto this tape," T'Pat continued, "is the original recorded spanking execution here in the Department of the Spockology." "Ahem," one of the lurkers interrupted the Vulcan, "I have always thought, that the spanking list existed in the Departure of Kirkology?" "Oh yeah," Robin too was remembering the old times. "But," T'Pat went farther, "the Department of the Spockology possessed such a list too. With one name here through, but a very famous name of a person, which came frequently here to take the needed lessons in the... in the..." "In the discipline," Robin finished for T'Pat. "Ahem yes, the discipline." "We want to see it, we want to see it! T'Pat please." Sighing, T'Pat looked at Robin: "is the recorder still functioning?" "Sure, I made the needed repair just yesterday." She took the tape from T'Pat's hand and put it into the console. 'Fascinating', T'Pat thought, while patting the Indicator in hirs arms and watching the lurkers taking their places onto the sofa. 'I'm teaching again. We haven't any popcorns true, all our food and water is rationalised, the maize field freed from mines is our rest room, but we still have the newbees here, willing to learn. Fascinating.' A picture flashed out onto the screen, showing two persons in a room, with a throne in the middle. The yaws of the newbees dropped, recognising the woman and the man, whose, while wearing nothing except for his collar, was bent over her knees. "You deserve it James!" "Yes T'Pau!" "What?" WHACK! "Yes mistress!" "Do you want it?" WHACK! "Yes! YES, YES! YES!" WHACK! Blow after blow fall onto the well shaped but, which quickly turned bright red. The man shifted a little showing clearly the evidence of his arousal. "An EEEEVVVVVE!" The newbees screamed as one. T'Pat and Robin looked at each other in silent satisfactory. There onto this sofa sat the future of TSU. Well ladies and gentlemen, happy fuh-q citizen. That was all for our today FQNN special. My name is Marla Twiggy and it was a pleasure for me to spent the today evening with you all. And now, we can return back to the scheduled newbee party onto the main boulevard of the fuh-q-vegas. By! EPILOGUE The neutral zone to the fuh-q land at night. A group of maquis clad in black battle gear was lying in bushes watching the Other Side, with their infrared viewers. Obviously awaiting someone. "Ara?" One of the dark persons asked, never stopping starring into the oculars. "Yeah Chakotay?" "I will be honest. I fell quiet uneasy by the idea to move onto the TOS faculty." "Why?" Arachnethe2 dropped her own viewer and looked at the charismatic Maquis leader. "It is only an office, with the beam platform directly into the Ceepee relaxation area. What's the problem?" Chakotay dropped his own viewer and turned toward the woman lying beside him: "Tom is calling me t'yhyla." "And?" "And! I'm not double ridged enough to be called in this way." "Then stop using Tuvok's deo." Arachnethe2 started to observe again the Other Side. Chakotay snorted. "And where is this pig tonight?" B'Elana had better to turn away. Watching Ayala fondling Geron in the bushes was indeed nerving. But on the other side the waiting was really too long. "He got a special assignment tonight." Arachnethe2's voice remained steady. "I would like to know," a redhead beside B'Elana asked, "what a kind of assignment it would be, when obviously our flyboy..." "Seska!" Chakotay interrupted her a bit too quickly and a bit too sternly. "We have a mission to fulfil now." 'Lick my ass, you and your mission,' Seska thought. But on the other side this was far better, than to play a nice crew onto the Voyager. Suddenly a motor of a single vehicle was heard down between the trees. Chakotay gave the sign to his troop to move forward. Crawling between the bushes and the trees they reached the edge of the field, spotting an old car and a single person, moving away. "Don't move, by Kahles!" Belana jumped down in front of the unknown one. The man stopped and starring into the faser he lifted up his hands. "Search after a weapon by him," B'Elana said over the stranger's shoulder at Seska. The cardassian redhead moved her hands down the man's back, then she turned him and did the same with the man's chest and belly. "Nothing," she reported then to B'Elana, "you may put your arms down, Erik." "Thank you Seska," Erik smiled, "knowing that you would honour me with this procedure tonight, I would put on my Kazon make-up." "You...!" "Ah ah ah...", only Chakotay's fast hand prevented the blow, "don't joke with the Cardassians Erik", he turned then to the man, "how often should I tell you?" Erik smiled apologetically: "sorry, but I couldn't resist", he beamed then back at Seska, who threw him a deadly look and then she moved to Ayala, Geron and Dalby, whose were already downloading the various boxes down from the car. Arachnethe2 controlled the brought supplies: "Chocolate..., cognac, wonderful! Batteries! Even better...! Toilet paper?" Holding one role, she turned toward Erik. "Do you have plenty of it?" The man grinned. Arachnethe2 only snorted and threw the role back into the box. "And what do we have there?" She opened the next one and then she froze, blinking stupidly at the cyrillic signs: "Be-lu-ga? You brought caviar?" "Yeah", we have enough there, "the newbee party is bathing in it. We made small boats from bred and..." "Did you brought some bred?" Chakotay as first got out of the stupor. "Ah no..." "Then we will eat it without it," Arachnethe2 closed the box with the caviar again. "Without bred, Ara?" Erik sounded obviously shocked," Are you nuts? Its, its barbaric, hedonistic!" The Maquiz snorted. "Then since the bred will be not replicated by us," Arachnethe2 reached nonchalantly into the pocket of her black suit, "because of causing too much energy, we haven't any choice, than to turn into hedonistic barbarians." She put out a small chip and handed it to Erik, whose fingers shook visibly: "your payment." "Are they fresh?" He asked, the longing in his eyes badly suppressed. "Fresh from my computer. An extra filthy modus made especially for you." "Thank you," Erik mumbled. In his mind he was already in his apartment, reading the new stories. "Fascinating," Chakotay said, after the car vanished onto the Other Side, "what people can do for some dirty K/S stories." "Oh yes," Arachnethe2 mumbled too, "like for example an illegal Marshal Plan." Quickly the Maquiz gathered the boxes and disappeared in the darkens of the war zone. Deadly tired, Vanasati entered her room. The whole day sucked. Not even a single minute today brought her something to simply enjoy. The only thing she desired, was to take the sonic shower and drop down into the bed. "Hi!" A gentle shy voice said. Vanasati threw all her attention at the most impossible scene in her whole live, but oh Goddes of Treksmut it was true! "Tom? Tom Paris?" "Yes," the helmboy blushed in his most cute way, "it's me... I got a special assignment tonight." "Assignment?" "Yes," he blushed even more and then he handed Vanasati a small card, which he held in the strategically place the whole time. There were two words written there: SMOOCHES ARA!! "Ahem...," Vanasati looked up from the card, to find that the famous Voyager pilot was blushing even at the tips of his toes. Nervously Tom touched the hibiscus flower behind his ear: "Do you think, that this is OK?" Her weariness, the bad day and similar shit vanished in a second. Vanasati grinned broadly: "Now it is just fine. With that," she tossed the card away, "you were unnecessarily overdressed." Epilogue II. (Now the end, I swear!!) Captain Kirk's log: my cabin at night. Finally, there is silence onto the front. Today, the last troll blew himself up into another dimension or ... who knows, where these creatures are coming from. Seven of Nine, the leader of our Borg Unit, have proposed the assimilation to him. I mean the chance to stay and learn, but the troll wanted it in his own way. I don't understand it. But probably I will never do. Spock says, that it is impossible to foresee, whether or not a newbee will turn into a troll. This is a factor, which no one can ever control. And he is right. The only thing we can do, when the flame is spread all over us again, is to put the gear on and fight. It already happened before, but it had never lasted for so long and hasn't been so intensive like now. But after this all I have seen a new hope again and the will of us all to continue farther. The days here are coming and passing. The only thing, which remains, is our determination to move over our past and hold onto the always proved definitions. I would say, even if it might sound a bit mushy, that the net is indeed our final frontier now. Endless in its dimensions and possibilities. But still the new definitions, which we are so often forced to make, are letting us to go, where no group has gone before. End. ----------------------------------------------------------------