Nurse Alyssa Ogawa walked through the sliding doors of sickbay and over to Doctor Beverly Crusher. "Hi, Alyssa. What can I do for you." asked the red haired doctor. "I have a headache and it wont go away." complained the sexy Asian. "That would explain why you are in sickbay at oclock in the morning. Come over to the biobed and well take a look." said Crusher as she led her nurse over to the biobed.

Captain Kathryn Janeway of Federation Star Ship Voyager walked on to the bridge of her ship. The cold metal lines were starting to get to her. They were every were. "Captain on the bridge." she heard the voice of Harry Kim call. "Report." she asked Harry as he rose from his position in the Captains Chair. "Everything is normal, Captain." said he young ensign. "Good, you have been relived. Now, go get some sleep Harry.

I can still see her in my minds eye. The memory of her echoes through my head even still. Her voice still sings sonnets and her face will forever be imprinted in my soul. I never knew her name, I never touched her, I never even talked to her. I know this woman only from a distance and only for a very short time. Her curves and body will remain with me forever.

I am testing the waters with this one. Have many more chapters waiting if is something you are interested in post some feedback and I will keep posting.** Prologue The sleek outline of the black Jaguar XJ-8 nearly disappeared against the darkness of the desert. Quick and sexy, the car cut through the heavy blackness like a sharp knife through tissue paper. Rumbling and growling the big six speed, V-12 engine pulled the machine deeper into the California deserts Coachella valley. I checked the clock built into the hide-a-way face head unit for the cars after market stereo system. It was 12:33 on a Saturday morning.

The blades of the Special Air Service chopper thumped the air loudly above the head of Britains greatest spy, James Bond. This was one of the most deadly missions he would ever go on. One of there own had gone rouge. An informant had told them that the agent would be at a party being held at a mansion out side of Paris. Bond checked the clip of his Walther PPK and slid the gun into the holster on his back. He checked his Ka- Bar combat knife and his special equipment that Q had provided. The laser in his watch, the grappler in his cell phone, the bomb in his pager,

I clutched my notebook for all it was worth, like my thoughts on the paper would protect me from what was coming. To most people what I was doing would be considered minor, but to an eighteen year old country boy from rural Missouri it was like stepping into another, very hostile, world. I had turned eighteen only the day before and my parents decided that it would be good for me to and stay with my grandparents for the next year. I agreed, if for no other reason than to get out of Rolla, Missouri. I had been home schooled and had never really had any friends growing up so I thought I was ready to go out and meet the world.

It was always hot in this god forsaken country, even after the sun went down. He was getting fed up with this whole damn job. The man had half a mind to quit. Dr. James Carson removed the white fedora that perched on his head and wiped the sweat from his brow. There was a big metal table, and on the table was a yet to be identified mummy the had found in a newly discovered chamber of the Valley of the Kings. More commonly referred to as the VK. "I hate this fucking place." James said to Dr. Kyle Moore who was sitting to the side of the mummy. "No you dont." said Kyle not looking up. "You need it. Its in your blood." "I know and I resent the hell out if it.

The Archeologist: The Angel from the Street My name is Dr. James Carson. I am a year old archeologist worth over a little more than billion dollars. I have been called a genius by some, partly because I graduated high school at ten and by the age of seventeen held a doctorate in anthropology archeology from UCLA. But mainly because of my prowess with women. I can have any woman with only a few choice words. This is my story. Dr. James Carson stood in front of the floor to ceiling mirror appraising his image.

Reg Barclay walked down the corridor on deck eight. He was nervous, he was always nervous. Ever since he had first met Lt. Barclay had been in love with Counselor Deanna Troi. And now she had offered to help the crew with the virus. He was going to make his dream come true. Barclay valiantly summoned up his courage and walked to her door. Then panicked and took several steps back.