USS Sulu - Data Log Archive

"The Things You Do For Love"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Lyrr and Ben's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 00h07

***

The drained bottle rested upright on the table, and by it were two glasses showing faint traces of the red liquor that had once filled them to the brim. She'd insisted Rett leave them there, despite his impulsive, servile desire to tidy the area; "The light reflecting off the glass," she'd explained, speech slurred through inebriation, "is too pretty." He'd obliged her. The room was dead silent now, save for the ambient noise inherent on a starship, and a barely registering droning that grew in volume the further he walked into the room. As he did, the sound's nuances became audible - the whistling exhale, the choking inhalation, and the incoherent muttering.

Benedict took off his jacket and threw it on the chair as he looked down at Lyrr Tayla sprawled on the couch. Her arm draped to the floor, the thin gold and silver bracelet gleamed on her wrist and drew his eye. She was in uniform, apart from the jacket that was carelessly crumpled in a heap beside the table. She was snoring. He grinned, but his eye wandered to the table and the two glasses sitting atop its polished surface. He didn't recognize the bottle - it certainly hadn't been here this morning.

She'd had someone visit and obviously they had imbibed the contents of the bottle. He sniffed the mouth of the bottle and recognized the scent of brandy. So she'd gotten drunk with someone. He had no idea why she would do such a thing. It was past midnight, and Benedict had come back to quarters to get a shower and a quick bite to eat before he went back to duty. He was well into searching the ship's data logs, but computer errors were making the task harder than it normally would be. He was surprised that Tayla hadn't been on duty during Beta. Even more surprised that she'd found it necessary to get drunk. It didn't make him happy. She wasn't that sociable - so who had she gotten drunk with?

She was definitely out for the count. He walked over to the desk terminal in the corner of their quarters and tapped out his security access code and retrieved the internal sensor logs for the past three hours, and cross referenced the Starfleet ident number with the ship's personnel file database. Crewman Rett Charla. A crewman? Bajoran.... Benedict frowned and logged out.

Lyrr Tayla had gotten drunk with a crewman from Operations. That wasn't like her at all. It worried him. She'd never talked about Rett before. He knew that there was nothing to be jealous about, he was just concerned about the state she was in. He walked over to her and knelt beside the sofa, looking at her sleeping form and the slightly open mouth from which the sonorous snores came in regular snorts and rumbles. She was also muttering occasionally and that made him smile as he smoothed a strand of hair away from her brow. The sofa cushion was wet from where she'd drooled and her skin was flushed and clammy.

He thought of leaving her there, but knew that she would wake with a nasty ache if she slept on the sofa. She'd probably have a nasty hangover too. Self inflicted. He carefully wormed his hand under her body and lifted her into his arms as gently as he could. She lolled like a dead weight as he shifted her and walked through to the bedroom.

Laying her on the bed he pulled off her boots and pulled back the covers to slide her into the bed. She groaned as he pulled the covers up over her body and he paused to kiss her forehead. He would have enough time to shower and change into a fresh uniform. He felt tired.

Lyrr tossed onto her side before he could depart, her arm flopping over to lightly swat T'Kal in the cheek before it fell limply onto the mattress. "Maybe the white," she shouted, then sighed heavily and tucked both arms beneath her cheek, all with her eyes still tightly sealed.

He almost laughed, but instead just grinned and said, "No...the red," in her ear and tucked her back under the covers.

She giggled in her sleep, but her emotions shifted quickly to agitation as she tugged absently at her shirt and began kicking the sheets off. Vague consciousness returned momentarily, allowing Lyrr to jerk the zipper down enough to give the sudden warmth heating her flesh an outlet for escape, and once she was satisfied, Lyrr let out a deep breath and relaxed again. Her eyes remained half-lidded; it took some time for her to finally recognize T'Kal's presence, and when she did, Lyrr grinned broadly and raised a hand to his cheek. She missed and it dropped to the mattress. "Benny..." she drawled.

He squatted down next to the bed and the flash of irritation at that name gave way quickly to a chuckle. "You had quite an evening I see." He tucked her arm back again and brushed her cheek with his palm. "You are definitely unfit for duty, Commander."

"Says who?" she challenged with a defiant scowl, then she snickered. "You missed all the fun...dear." Lyrr chuckled again and crawled closer to Ben. Her eyes were fully open now and she was grinning mischievously as she slurred, "There's still time, though." Unseen beneath the sheets, Lyrr's hand stole its way past the edge of the bed and dipped between T'Kal's legs.

He raised a brow at her and grabbed her hand, putting it back on the bed. "No, Tayla - you're in no condition to be messing around, and I have to get back on duty." He scowled. "Sleep it off." He leaned in quickly and kissed her lips, tasting brandy breath as he pulled away. "Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." He stood and looked down on her.

She frowned and threw herself stubbornly onto her back again. Her tunic was spread open, revealing her breasts, nearly spilling from the bra encasing them. With some effort, she attempted to pull her arms free of the tunic entirely. "Why-- Why do you have to go?" she asked, grunted as she twisted one arm out, then sighed. "Benny" --she snickered again at the name-- "come to bed. Please?"

"You have got to be kidding!" He put both hands on his hips and his annoyance was plainly written on his face. "The ship is falling apart, I have my whole department pulling extra shifts and the XO is taking time out to get herself drunk in quarters and now she wants what she knows she doesn't really want!" He helped her get the tunic off and pushed her onto her back. Grabbing the hem of her pants he tugged them off rather roughly, discarding the uniform so that she was in her underclothes. "Now get back in bed - and go to sleep. I have work to do."

Lyrr frowned, detecting his agitation, which quickly soured her mood. "Fine!" she shouted, and tossed the sheets clear off her body. They draped over T'Kal's feet as they landed. "Fine," she repeated, her voice a whisper. "I just wanted you to be with me for a while... You were gone so long-- Why weren't you here with me?"

He sighed and sat heavily beside her, looking down at her sullen face. "I thought you were working Beta tonight...and after the days' events I decided to work through Beta too." He reached over and turned her face toward him; she was awfully cute when she pouted - even drunk. "You could have commed me - instead of getting drunk with someone...now I have to get back to work to find this bloody bug in the system." He smiled. "I'd love to curl up with you Love, and sleep," he stressed as he bent to kiss her again. "Now - I have to shower and freshen up."

Her smile returned in full force, Lyrr straightening up. "I could join you," she offered.

"No way." He pushed her back onto the pillows with a grin. "I know what you have in mind, little lady, and I'm not on your menu this evening." He knew now wasn't the time to ask her why she had gotten drunk - or who Rett Charla was to have been in her company. He couldn't stay mad at her anyway. Lyrr Tayla was one contrary frustrating woman! He'd have given his right arm for her to be this way a week ago - but now he understood what was going on. He was not going to allow her to compromise herself and further give her an excuse to blame him for taking advantage of her state of mind. That would be dishonorable. "No," he reinforced sternly.

She grumbled and threw her arms over her chest. "As you wish," she said flatly, and with a glint in her eyes added, "Benny."

He narrowed his eyes as he stared down at her. "I hate that name." He bent over her again and kissed her softly. "I'll just have to remind myself not to call you 'Kitten' while you're on the Bridge. You wouldn't want that would you?"

Lyrr gasped and playfully shoved him away. "You wouldn't! I'd never forgive you, you know." She chuckled and slid her leg out from beneath the sheets to extend it towards Ben; she jabbed at his abdomen with the point of her foot. "I'm the commander of this ship, so I order you not to use that word in my presence ever!"

"Sorry, Kitten, I'll try." He grinned, grabbing her foot. His fingers brushed softly against the arch and her foot twitched as he tickled it. "Can't promise anything though...depends on whether you call me Benny."

Lyrr protested and drew her leg back, only to have Ben retain his hold on her foot and pull her leg towards him again. Lyrr squeaked as she was dragged across the mattress an inch, still wriggling under his mild torture: tickling the underside of her foot. "Okay," she relented. "No more 'Benny'! But...it's so adorable!"

"It's not adorable!" He let her foot go. "I have to shower," he said with a grin as he shucked out of his undershirt. He was undressed in a few moments and Lyrr watched him undress until finally only the golden tattoo adorned his body. He shook his head at the looks she gave him and retreated to the refresher. "Get some sleep, Tala," he playfully used the Bajoran derivative of feline playfulness kitten of her name.

Lyrr sulked and petulantly righted herself in the bed, making certain to jostle it as an expression of her displeasure. "Tala," she jeered. "We'll see who calls who--" In the next moment, Lyrr flew onto her stomach, with her head hanging over the mattress. Retching sounds soon followed, and from her mouth, a large volume of the most vile substance Lyrr had ever tasted spewed upon the carpet. She remained half-draped over the bedside after the onslaught had let up, groaning and cursing Ensign Farrell for his gift.

The sound was unmistakable. Benedict stopped before he entered the refresher and closed his eyes and groaned. The one thing above all things he hated and couldn't stand was what Lyrr had just done in their bedroom. He put his forehead against the wall and swore softly. With a heavy sigh he walked to the replicator and ordered half a dozen towels and a glass of mouthwash.

When he re-entered the bedroom she was sprawled across the bed still moaning. The horrid stench and the mess almost made him gag but he forced himself to cope with it. A few moments of soaking it up with the towels and he helped her sit up. Wiping her clean he handed her the glass of mouthwash. "Rinse," he said as he helped her with it. She complied shakily and he chuckled. "Prophets you really tied one on didn't you? I can't believe I'm doing this...it must mean I love you." He held her upright with one arm and grinned at her expression.

After spitting the pungent liquid back into the glass - liquid currently matching the shade of her face - Lyrr weakly shrugged away T'Kal's hand then reclined upon her side. "Sorry," she murmured and closed her eyes. "I'll do better to make myself easier to love."

He laughed. "Come on...shower time." He pulled her upward and held her. "We'll get you showered, you can have a pill to help your hang-over and a good night's sleep will work wonders." He stood and lifted her to her feet. "If you try to sleep now the whole ship will start spinning...and the last thing I want is to clean something off the bed." His voice was filled with humor, talking to her almost as if she were a child.

She sulked, though her lips twitched as if restraining a grin. "Fine...just one shower. And I'll make a mess on the bed if I want to!" Then she slipped her arms around his waist and nestled her cheek to his chest.

He chuckled and deftly unsnapped her bra and helped her off with the rest. She meekly allowed him to lead her into the refresher. He stopped for a moment and considered the danger involved in trusting anything on the ship at the moment and decided to risk it anyway. He pulled her into the stall and held her up as he ordered the shower to commence with tepid water. It came on without a problem and so he increased the temperature a little. "Now you're going to behave...right?" He turned her so that she stood with her back to him and allowed the water to wash her clean.

She grinned, unseen to Ben, and gave no direct reply. Taking in a breath to speak, she shifted around to face him, but at the first sign of movement, he gripped her shoulders and turned her towards the wall once more. Lyrr audibly pouted. "When did you get so stodgy?" she asked. "I thought that was my job?"

"It must be sleeping with you, it's rubbing off." He chuckled as he soaped her back. "So...tell me why you're in this state," he said gently.

She placed her hands on the facing wall to steady herself, and sighed. "There was some brandy...and I drank it," she answered. "And I think it made me a tad tipsy." Lyrr chuckled weakly. "You really should've been here. I think you would have enjoyed yourself - loosen you up a bit."

"You already had company," he said as he continued with the soap. The immediate retort that came to mind was that she really should have been on the Bridge, but he decided to leave that alone for the moment. "Who brought the brandy?" he asked casually.

Lyrr shrugged. "A friend," she muttered. "Not jealous, are you, Ben?"

"Depends who the friend is," he replied as he kissed her shoulder. "Should I be?"

She sighed and shook her head solemnly. "No.... There could be no one else, Ben. I'm surprised there's even one." Turning her head aside, she watched Ben from the corner of her eye. "Ben?" she whispered. "How far would I have to go to...well...drive you away?"

He paused and turned her around so that she was facing him. "That depends on whether you want to drive me away," he said seriously, but gently as he held her close. "Otherwise...." He smiled as he gazed into her dark eyes. "Otherwise it would be impossible. I do love you. I'll stay with you for as long as you want me," he whispered.

She smiled wanly. "Really? Even when I vomit on the carpet?"

"Even when you vomit on the carpet, Love." He kissed her. "Even then." She felt so good in his arms, the warm water pummeling them.

Lyrr went silent for a time, content to remain in Ben's embrace as she stroked his back lightly, and he hers. Their damp bodies, pressed close, was a comfort and an appealing sensation. With only his arms he could shelter her entirely, and nuzzling her head into his chest, she felt fully protected, as well as forthcoming. "Rett Charla," she murmured. "He delivered a bottle Ensign Farrell had given to me. We...we drank and spoke...and I realized something." There was a long pause as Lyrr sighed deeply and gently dug her fingers into his back. She trembled now. "I've been trying...to allow myself to love you. But...I just don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling. I don't even know if I'm capable, and it pains me because you've been making it so easy to fall for you, and you've devoted yourself to me...and I can't even let you know how I feel." She sucked in a quivering breath and sobbed. "And I'm sorry."

His arms tightened around her and he sighed as she clung to him. "Don't worry about all of that, Love," he murmured into her ear. "Don't worry about what you're supposed to be feeling - and just let it be." He stroked her back, feeling her tremble. "We have all the time in the world to realize how we feel. You know..love is different for everyone. For me, I want to protect you, hold you, be with you, share my thoughts and feelings with you.... I want you to be the best person you can be, and support you in doing that. I love your laugh, and especially your smile. When I look into your eyes I could drown in them. Sometimes I look at you and I feel like I'm not worthy of being with you. Sometimes I feel like I could jump mountains just because you're with me. I need you - like I need to breathe. I love you - I can't help that - and I wouldn't change it. You have nothing to be sorry about, Love."

"But I do," she insisted, turning her face up towards his. "I've never been loved like this, I've never had anyone who would tuck me into bed, buy me things..." --she searched for another example and came up with: "clean up my vomit! And in return, all I've done is lead you on, make you feel guilty everytime I have an emotional breakdown when it's not your fault...." Lyrr sighed and brought her hands up to cradle his cheeks. "I don't deserve you, Ben. You should've dropped me long ago. But," she added, and a smile finally broke through her sullen pout, "I'm glad you haven't, and I know that when you do, I'll at least be glad that you gave me a chance. And I thank you for that."

He frowned. "When I do? Don't be stupid." He kissed her tenderly. "I have no intention of ever letting you go - so you can get that out of your drink sodden mind right now!" He chuckled. "You feeling a little better? Come on let's get you dry and tucked back into bed. I have to go to sickbay and then get back to Commander Sam."

"Sickbay?" Lyrr frowned and halted him before he could pull them both out of the shower. "What's in sickbay? I thought it was quarantined."

"Shirik," he said heavily. "She caught the virus. If Sorg Jurell hadn't been with her this morning she would have died. As it is she'll be lucky to last the night." His voice was laced with sadness. "It's my responsibility, Tayla...I let it on board."

"What?" she asked incredulously, and gripped his arms tightly. "Last I heard, Ben, it was Tagliesh who caused this. Don't you dare do this to yourself. I-I don't know the extent of your relationship with Ensign Lektar or your feelings for her," --her voice faltered briefly, but she pressed on-- "but don't let your sadness cloud the truth. You aren't a scientist - Tagliesh is, and she should have made sure it was safe to bring those bodies on board."

"Shirik is my friend, Tayla, someone who trusted me, and regardless of Lieutenant Tagliesh's assessment, I was mission commander. It's my responsibility, and mine alone. When this is over, I'll have to face that. I expect a Captain's Mast at least...but that's unimportant right now," he said softly. "Lives have been lost - and I have to find a solution to what's happening onboard. It's my responsibility. You know that as well as I do."

She sighed and relinquished her hold, dropping her arms to her sides. "And I shouldn't be in my room passed out drunk." Smiling wryly, Lyrr shook her head and stepped out of the shower. "Get dried and dressed. I'm going back out there with you."

"You're in no state to do anything," he said as he followed her out. "Take something to get rid of the effects of the alcohol you drank tonight." He caught her arm and stopped her, and for a moment they shared a look and he smiled. "Good to have you on deck, Commander."

Lyrr smiled slyly back. "You're just saying that because I'm your girlfriend." Then extricated her arm and said, "I'll take an oxy pill and I'll be fine...Commander."

He grinned as she walked a little unsteadily through into the living area and he quickly dried and followed. As he ordered a fresh uniform from the replicator and started to dress once more he watched Tayla take the pill and shudder at the effect of it.

"I've been with Sam and Thaine all day trying to find the source of the glitches. It's been a difficult task so far. Amaya Chen died this morning in a turbo lift," he sighed heavily. "Turbo lifts are now out of bounds. There's been gravity outages and widespread chaos with environmental systems. A crewman almost froze to death on deck eleven. I've got my whole department pulling double shifts assisting the other departments. We found a holodeck anomaly earlier that looks like a presence is in our systems somewhere. It's been a hell of a day." He pulled on his boots and zipped up his jacket.

"It's going to continue getting worse if we don't figure this out," Lyrr called from the bedroom, where she was working at regaining her equalibrium. "This whole--" There was a clatter from the night table being knocked, then a Bajoran curse that lasted a few moments, followed by: "I'm fine. Just...you head to sickbay and I'll likely catch up with you sometime in the evening. I...I hope Ensign Lektar is well."

He stepped into the bedroom. "That lamp is not going to survive you is it?" he asked. "That's the third time you've knocked it over and the lights are on." He gave her a smile. "I'll catch you later - I'll be in the primary computer core if you need me." He stepped up to her and gave her a quick kiss. "Watch yourself, and for Prophets' sake, stay out of the turbolifts or any area that can decompress. I don't want to lose you too." He put a hand against her cheek for a moment and his look told her how he felt. "Take care, Love."

She sighed, and allowed a reluctant smile to form. "I'll be fine. And I promise to stay away from anything containing alcohol."

Benedict nodded. "I expect so, Commander," he said wryly as he headed toward the door. "Later!" he called out as the door allowed him to leave. He set off for sickbay with a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Yeah," Lyrr muttered as she sank down onto the bed. "Later." She remained there for some time, studying her hands as they rested upon her bare thighs. Getting drunk in her quarters while the ship was under attack by an invisible predator.... Lyrr reproved herself harshly and flew off the bed to find a decent uniform. She might fail Ben or herself, but one thing she was certain of, she would not fail the Sulu or its crew.

"Just Keep Rolling"
By: Ensign Marp
C1C Ken Smith

Location: Marp's quarters
Stardate: 57908.20, 01h00

***

Ken buzzed the door to Marp's quarters. Being on opposite shifts the two friends didn't find much time to spend relaxing. Tonight Ken had replicated a classic game that he wanted to share with his Ferengi friend. He had always enjoyed playing it thought Marp would also. Monopoly Starfleet edition was the latest version to come out of the classic and while it seemed an oddity to most Federation citizens in modern times, Ken found it a very pleasing game to play and having always been told that he had been born in the wrong body, or spirited from his true parents' home on Ferenginar to the ones who raised him he was sure that a true Ferengi would love the game.

"Hello, Ken, what's new with you," asked Marp as the door opened.

"I thought we might play a game," Ken said with a smile. "It's an old Earth classic and one of my favorites. It is hard to find anyone to play against nowadays but I thought you might enjoy it. It's Monopoly Starfleet edition."

Marp looked at Ken and the game he was carrying. "Yeah...sure, Ken, what is this game about?" Marp smiled uncomfortably as he watched Ken begin setting up the game. The piles of colorful strips of paper did not escape Marp, perhaps it was some sort of gambling game.

"We will start out with the basic rules. It's all pretty self-explanatory; we start off rolling the dice, whoever gets the highest score goes first. We move our pieces around the board, landing on real estate, which we buy. See how the colors match in each area on the board? Well when you get all three of them you get more money. It will all be explained on the deed." He handed Marp Office of the President, Paris as an example and then took it back. "You get deeds when you Buy property. We each get 2,000 UFP credits at the start and the goal is to bankrupt your opponent and to make the most money."

Marp studied the board. "Ok, I will give it a try." He picked up the dice and tossed them. "I got a two. That is not good is it?"

"Only if you want to go first. Which, depending on how you end up playing, may or may not be good." Ken tossed the dice. "A two and a three. I will go first.and so I roll again and move my car three spaces and I will buy New Berlin for 150 UFP. Here, your turn." He handed Marp the dice. "So what do your siblings do?" Ken asked casually.

Marp was about to toss the dice but stopped when Ken asked his question. He did not like talking about his family. "My brothers are all successful businessmen. My father is very proud of them." Marp tossed the dice. A five and a three. Marp moved his little shuttle to 'Reading Shuttle Line.' "I'll buy that."

"150 UFP. You want to try to get all the shuttle lines and utilities under your control because you earn more that way," Ken said, handing over the deed and taking his turn. He ended up purchasing Deep Space 7. "So if you don't mind my prying why are you not a successful businessman?"

"I just have really bad luck when it comes to earning profit." Marp signed. "My father would tell you," Marp imitated his father's voice. "Marp does not have the Lobes for business. He should stay home with the rest of the women." Marp's next roll landed him on the USS Enterprise which he gladly purchased for 175 credits.

"Ouch, I don't know that much about Ferengi but I know that must have been pretty hard on you." Ken rolled and went directly to jail. "I am stuck there until I roll doubles, so it's your turn."

"Yeah, well that was then. So, far I am doing pretty well in Starfleet but I am always waiting for a bad luck to strike." Marp took his turn and purchased Mars Colony. "Enough about me, tell me about you."

"Not much to tell really, well that's not entirely true." Ken grinned at Marp and leaned forward. "Marp, being as I see us as a kindred spirits after a fashion, I am going to tell you something that only three other people have ever known about me."

"Do tell," said Marp with curiosity.

"Back when I was younger I used to steal hovers for fun and profit." Ken causally tossed the dice and they came up 3 and 4. He handed the dice back to Marp.

"Was it a profitable business?" Marp tossed the dice and landed on Chance. He looked at Ken. "What do I do now?"

"Draw a card from that pile. Almost zero profit. The government provides everything so if your hover gets stolen, pfft just get a new one. Fun, very. The most I ever had, but if I would have ever been caught well let's just say I would still be serving time at a rehabilitation colony."

Marp picked up a card. "Go to the Brig," he read aloud. "Move over, Ken, the brig is getting full."

"Isn't that always the case. We are both stuck until one of us roll doubles." Ken Rolled a pair of twos. "Ahh, lady luck, thank you very much. Roll, Marp. No, but as I was saying I was well on my way to a rehab center when Kip, my ever straight arrow of a friend, got me to realize that I was headed down a path of self-destruction. He stole a Hover himself one night, he came by my house and picked me up and we went joy riding. One thing led to another and the local police were on our tail for a while. The only reason we never got caught was his driving skill. We literally flew onto a ferry headed for Washington, then disappeared into the passengers. It was close but a real eye opener for me."

Marp rolled the dice and got a 3 and a 4. "I bet it was. I was arrested for price fixing on the Ferengi exchange. Just another example of my bad luck." He handed the dice to Ken.

"I would imagine that you would have been given an award for that." Ken landed USS Enterprise. "How much do I owe you?"

Marp laughed. "My reward would have been all the money I made if I had not gotten careless and got caught. Ferengi cheat all the time, that was never the issue. It was getting caught that was my crime. That will be 165 credits." Marp gave Ken the biggest number on the deed card.

"Are you sure about that price? You know it has three sets of numbers, one for if you only own one piece of property, two for if you own two in the set, and the third is if you own all three. So getting caught was the crime eh? Well I suppose that is how it is with any crime really, it's only illegal if you get caught. So what happened?"

"Oh sorry, I read the wrong one," Marp lied. "It is 75 credits." Marp flashed Ken a toothy smile. "It caused my father and brothers to lose standing in the Grand Nagus' inner circle so naturally he bought his standing back. It cost him a lot of latinum. Then he disowned me and kicked me out. Eventually I joined Starfleet." Marp neglected to tell him about all of his other bungled deals. Marp rolled the dice and was still stuck in the brig. "To bad I cannot buy my way out of the brig."

"Actually, you can, I am sorry I haven't played in a while, for 50 creds you can buy your way out, but you have to do it right away. Since I forgot to tell you that you can do it now for 25. Couldn't you just buy your way back into Ferengi culture some day? I mean if you can buy a seat on the council why not your father's love?"

Marp chuckled. "I doubt that would happen, at any rate, I do not want his love or back into his family. I will just keep rolling to get out." Marp handed the dice to Ken. "Your turn."

"Life is kind of like that, you just keep rolling."

"Late Night Visitor"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 01h18

***

Sickbay was full. Even at 0100hrs it was busy. Benedict stepped into the main ward and saw that lights were dimmed and small pools of higher illumination cast pale significance upon sensor screens and the occasional patient that lay reading or talking in low voices to the duty staff. The crew were getting injured due to software failures - and earlier today was a fatality. Amaya Chen had died in a turbolift when it had accelerated to the bottom of a shaft. Another death - more blood staining the ship's name. With the news that the virus was mutagenic, Benedict's guilt had stepped up another notch. He felt the weight of responsibility weighing heavily upon him.

He walked through the quiet area, the hum of the sterilization fields washing across him. Pausing to pick up a mask, he stepped through the door into the isolation area. He felt slightly refreshed, having showered and dressed in a clean uniform while he'd taken a break. Already, Benedict had worked through Alpha and Beta shifts, and was just dropping in to see if Shirik was okay before he went back to Sam and Thaine. He'd started to see spots after so many hours poring over data logs. Sam of course could keep going until the end of time, and it had been the android that had suggested the two officers assisting him take a deserved rest to allay the effects of fatigue. Thaine had accepted it as had he, with barely concealed irritation, but both had seen the necessity of it. Benedict had gone back to quarters to catch up with Lyrr Tayla - he'd been amazed that she had not remained on duty during Beta shift, and even more amazed when he'd found her passed out on their sofa, drunk from a now empty bottle of brandy supplied by Ensign Farrell.

Benedict put those thoughts behind him as he looked down upon Shirik Lektar, laying on a biobed. Her situation had deteriorated. Her skin was blotchy and a sheen of perspiration covered her brow. The white hair was dank and limp and her skin a dull grey-black. Her lips also were cracked. She appeared to be sleeping. Sorg was sitting in a chair by the door and he stood as Benedict walked in. The two men exchanged a look and Sorg nodded.

"How is she?" Benedict whispered.

"They sedated her several hours ago, sir," Sorg Jurell whispered back. "They were discussing a treatment a little while ago that doctor Sefton has come up with - something about a retro-viral RNA. You'd have to talk to the doc, sir. She's been in and out of consciousness."

Benedict nodded and gripped Sorg's arm. "You've been on duty for two shifts." Benedict looked at Shirik and then back at Sorg. "Take a break. She'll probably sleep anyway."

Sorg nodded. "Yes, sir," he replied. "If you don't mind, I'll come back."

"I want you back in seven hours, Jurell. You're no good to anyone without sleep. She'll be okay."

Sorg would have argued, but he knew T'Kal was right. He just nodded and with a last look at Lektar he left quietly.

Benedict walked over to the bed and looked down at her. She looked peaceful. It was disconcerting knowing that she wasn't truly breathing. He reached out a hand and brushed her cheek softly. His eyes traced the gentle curve of her ear, pointed at the tip and shell-like. She had trusted him, and now she was paying for that. He had requested her for the Away Team, and partly because she was his friend, and now this....

If Shirik looked almost like a corpse, she felt like one, too. Especially as she crawled her way from drugged sleep to semi-consciousness. She might have groaned if she could. Instead, the only indication of her waking was her hand, which moved about, seeking her PADD or another hand. When she found nothing, her eyes weakly fluttered open and she squinted as her eyes focused on who was standing there. Not Sorg....

A smile found her lips when she recognized Ben, and there was more urgency to her movements as her eyes opened further and began looking around. Where did that nurse hide her PADD, anyway?

"Here." He reached out and took the padd from the medical cart and slipped it into her hand. "Don't exert yourself," he whispered.

She took it with a smile, but frowned a bit at his words. 'The only way to exert myself less is to lay here and not move at all.' She motioned at him to sit somewhere near her. 'I prepared a will of sorts, on this PADD, just in case. I want you to know about it, and see to it for me if it becomes necessary. Please?'

He swallowed hard, but nodded. Giving the padd back to her with a wounded expression. "You'll be okay," he managed to say. He gave her a lopsided smile, a little forced, but the best he could do, and gripped her shoulder with a hand. She looked fragile, as if one good squeeze would shatter her. He remembered how she'd looked only yesterday morning - it seemed so long ago now. She'd been vibrant. It was like a knife wound in his gut, twisting as he impaled himself on guilt again. "I'm sorry, Shirik...." His voice was hoarse. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

She nodded, but knew the chances of that were lessening by the hour. She looked up at him in surprise. 'Don't be sorry. You didn't make me sick.'

He snorted derisively, "Didn't I?" He shook his head. It wasn't something to discuss right now. "I'll do as you ask."

She frowned at him. 'No. You didn't. I don't blame you. I blame our inept Chief Science Officer.' She was about to type more, but like him, decided it wasn't something to discuss now. Instead she switched subjects. 'I was talking to Cris Sefton earlier. He asked if there was anything I felt I had to do, once I was better again. I was thinking about his question.'

Benedict nodded. He passed the padd back to her. "At least you can freely talk to a Betazoid," he smiled.

She shook her head. 'He made me a promise that he wouldn't read my mind, so he doesn't. We use the PADD just like you and I.' He could see that pleased her. 'I'm getting used to this way. It's better than not communicating at all. I miss my voice almost more than I miss my lungs.' She smiled a bit.

"I miss your voice too," he said with a smile. "So what was it you have to do?"

'I'm still thinking about it,' she typed. 'But I'm finding a lot of the things I wanted to do included you.'

He read the words and looked at her, one brow arching in question. "Like...?" He cleared his throat and just looked into her violet eyes. Once she was better...would she get that chance? He fervently prayed to The Prophets that she would get to do all the things that she wanted in this life.

She smiled, and tapped on her PADD, watching him as she handed it back with a playful look in her eyes. 'I had to be incapacitated in bed before you would touch me, or kiss me....' she wrote, her expression letting him know it was teasing.

He grinned, and then laughed softly behind the face mask and reached out to touch her, laying his palm against the side of her cheek. For a moment he was silent and just looking into her eyes. Past all the teasing again he felt the connection with her and it was plain in his own eyes. What could he say? In that moment he didn't need to say anything.

For the moment she didn't say anything more either, but she leaned slightly into his hand. Her smile and her eyes were soft, and even in her condition, for that moment she felt really good.

"You'll come through this...you have to," he said softly. "This is a little bit too far to go for just a kiss." He grinned down at her, the moment past. "I don't want to lose my best friend."

She nodded with a small smile, her gaze falling from his. She mouthed, 'I know.'

He couldn't lie to her even now and tell her that he had feelings for her that reciprocated her own. He loved Lyrr Tayla, and there was no room for anyone else - and she knew that too, it was in Shirik's eyes and in the expression on her face. No matter how attracted he was to her, or her to him, he couldn't betray his relationship, nor his own feelings. It was a wall that stood clearly between them, and so even in the face of her death he couldn't say that there could be anything other than friendship between them. He could have said differently. He might have told her something that would comfort her - but there could only be truth between them. He knew that she respected that. They understood each other, and sometimes Benedict knew that Shirik understood him in more ways than Tayla did.

He turned her face slightly so that she would look back at him, his thumb caressed her soft skin. When their eyes met he said, "You should try to sleep. I have to get back to duty. I'll get a nurse to stay with you." He indicated her padd. "You won't need that...you're going to be okay. Besides, I promised you dinner, remember?"

She smiled faintly and typed, 'It's ok. I'm used to being alone.' She nodded. 'I missed it tonight, worse part of being sick.'

"You're not alone now. You're part of a family - mine. So you won't be alone - no matter what happens." Benedict's eyes held hers and she could see that he meant it. She was a part of his family - the only family he had.

She nodded. No, she wouldn't be alone, at least for the next six months. She had Saavar's bond to see to that. Somehow she couldn't quite think of Ben as family. A friend, yes. That's all he'd ever be to her.

He caught a hint of her feelings in the depths of her eyes; a part of her closed off and he felt saddened by it. He could understand it, but that made it no less painful. "I have to go." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I'll come by in the morning and make sure Sorg is behaving himself." He gave her a grin.

She returned the squeeze, nodding with a smile. 'He's doing a good job keeping my spirits up,' she typed. 'I'll see you soon.'

"Okay." He bent and kissed her cheek. It didn't feel right under the mask, and for a moment he seriously considered removing it, but sanity prevailed. "See you soon," he said as he turned away from her. He walked out of her room and dropped the mask into the recycler, feeling guilty about leaving her. He was about to approach a nurse when Lieutenant Saavar stepped into main sickbay.

She managed to keep the smile until he left the room, then it faded as if it never was. She closed her eyes, and sensed Saavar drawing near. She wanted to be composed before he got there. Somehow, Ben's visits always took away her composure.

"Back To A Nightmare"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Acting Chief of Science

Location: USS Hikaru Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 01h30

***

The USS Mallory had returned to the Sulu a little more than an hour ago. Their mission, to recover recordings of the electromagnetic transmissions from the dead planet had been a great success. They had managed to scavenge enough information to get a viable translation of the written and verbal languages of the world using the Universal Translation Matrix.

With the data safely on-board the Mallory, and a transfer already downloaded into the Sulu's computer, Natalia could return to the sanctity of her cabin. She was extremely tired, and the events on the Sulu were stressful, and getting worse. She sat back in the Science station on the shuttle and closed her eyes briefly before the computer tone signalled a communication.

She accessed the screen. A priority message had been left on her message queue. It seemed that the previous messages had not managed to get past the lapses in the communications net - now that the Mallory was hooked in via umbilical she was able to get a download. The blinking screen told her a short message that took the breath out of her lungs and set the hair at the back of her neck to rise.

[Effective Stardate: 57908.19, 07h45 Lieutenant (JG) Druschev assigned Acting Chief Science Officer USS Hikaru Sulu until further notice. Authorized Salinger, Matthew T.]

The neatly formed script banished any tiredness she felt. In its place was a cold ball of fear and an adrenaline surge that made her mouth taste like she'd chewed on a metal pipe. She swore in Russian before acknowledging the order. The transfer codes were designated to her by a crisp computer voice, confirming her authority as a senior officer of the Sulu's staff. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. What had happened? Had Tagliesh and Saavar been killed? Why had it fallen to her? She swore again - this time with a touch of awe to her voice and a slight chuckle at the realisation.

It took perhaps three more seconds to realize what her new responsibilities entailed and she closed her eyes and swore again. Dragging herself up out of the chair, she reached over to the commlink and contacted the Bridge. No go. Comms out.

With a sigh she took a deep breath and decided that she had to make sure that Domenic was okay and then get to the Bridge. Kit was busy still with the post flight checks, the rest of the away team had gone ahead to find quarters after their twenty eight hour mission. She was on deck ten so getting to her quarters on deck seven was on the way to the Bridge. Already she knew that the turbo lifts were out of action - or off-limits. She said a brief goodbye to Kit and left him. She really liked the Helm Officer, he was one of the nicest guys she'd ever met. Thoughtful and caring - Amy was a very lucky girl. Natalia grinned at the remembered conversations from the last day...she felt good about the whole mission. She had planned it - proposed it to Salinger and executed it flawlessly - and come up with the goods. Perhaps that was why the assignment to CSO? She was still worried about Tagliesh and Saavar - Saavar was directly in line for the slot if anything happened to Tagliesh..

The climb up through the three decks was swift. Making way for the few crew who hurried past with engineering kits or medical kits, she finally found deck seven. She was still in the Engineering Hull though and needed to reach all the way forward to the Primary Hull. She set off at a brisk trot, her long braided hair bouncing against her back as she moved. The strip lighting was dimmed - on the Gamma shift night cycle, but still the ship was fully alert. There were so many things happening that sleep was a luxury no one could afford. She came across a couple of medical officers working on a man laying in the corridor, skirted around them as they looked intent and deep into some kind of treatment.

Cargo Bay One was guarded by a security officer - a blonde man with strikingly handsome looks. He smiled at Natalia and nodded his head, watching her as she approached. She gave him a return smile - the elation of her new position coloring her emotions and making it impossible to deny a positive response. His eyes were direct - and a deep blue. For a moment she stared and he grinned and she blushed and then she was past him and on her way. She couldn't resist a backward glance. He was watching and he nodded as if he'd expected that reaction. He was gorgeous, and she'd never seen him before. With a grin she stepped around the corridor turn to mid-deck and almost collided with an engineer. She was hip deep in the floor - the panel rested against the wall and Natalia had to step around and jump to get past.

The ship was falling apart! The Science Section took up most of the hip section of the inner bulkheads. Science Labs on deck seven were aligned in a large square with a T-shape extending to the outer hull where the sensor clusters and external data gathering devices were housed. Crew quarters were well forward allowing the outside curve right at the leading edge of the deck and the outer blocks to both sides of the Science labs. They had external view ports. Enlisted were laterally placed and officers were forward, spaced on the curve that afforded a forward-looking view. Natalia's was one of these, and she made her way to them.

When her door opened, the light levels were fully off - and she raised them first by voice and finally by hand as the computer refused her requests. Her suite of rooms, two bedrooms and a shared living space normally allotted to junior officers who shared was empty. Domenic was nowhere in sight. She went from room to room to make sure, but he wasn't here. Panic gripped her as she tapped her comm-badge. No response. Ship wide comms were down. Where could he be? She'd left him with Shyla - perhaps he was with her....

Shyla was down the hall, lateral outer hull. She set off, but once there the door was unresponsive and no one came when she knocked. She tried out her new security clearance as senior science officer. The door whisked open - and jammed half-way. It remained that way so she slipped through and raised the light levels. No one home. Where the hell was she? Natalia swore under her breath in Russian. Domenic's Gaming Console was on Shyla's couch.

***01h55***

Shyla's station was in Astrometrics - deck eight.

She started off at a run now. One deck down through the Jeffries Tubes. She took the steps the fast way - palms and insteps on outer rails and a fast drop. Astrometrics was centrally located and she took a few minutes to get there.

"Comfort"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
Lt. Saavar, Science

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 02h00

***

Shirik was working on her PADD when Saavar entered the room, her expression completely unreadable, her thoughts ordered and composed. She had spent the last 16 hours or so coming to grips with what had happened to her, and what was likely to happen to her, and had come to her own place of peace. Whatever happened from now on, she was prepared for it, she believed. When she looked up she gave him a genuine smile, glad to see him.

Saavar smiled at her also and walked over to her bed. He was dressed in his Vulcan styled robes, this one a metallic blue that made his eyes look more blue than grey. Without words he reached out and placed a hand gently over hers. I am gratified to see you, he thought, his mind was a calm pool - fully composed now and only a little hint of emotion. His mental state was comforting as well as calming, his relief at seeing her was evident in the mental tone of the telepathic contact. He respected her privacy by only touching surface thought.

Her smile deepened, and she was relaxed by the contact. I'm glad to see you, too, she said, setting the PADD aside for now. It's so much easier to talk this way instead of typing everything all day.

In truth, you should be resting. He held her hand in both of his, feeling the depleted energy with the lessening of the usual heat of her skin. I am pleased however that you are awake. I saw Commander T'Kal leaving...

She rolled her eyes. I am resting. I just woke up a little while ago. She nodded, giving no reaction to T'Kal's name. Yes, he stopped by for a little while between shifts. To make sure I was still alive, probably... Who knows how much longer I'll be here.

That is true, he said with typical Vulcan logic. I have been examining the abundance of written texts recorded by the Away Team and attempting to create a translation matrix of the J'Seeharen languages. It is coming along slowly. I hope to use this to decipher any medical texts that we may find relating to the virus itself. He smiled at her through his mask. We will find a cure for you, Shirik. You must attempt to harbour your remaining strength else you will not fight the virus successfully. I fervently request that you do all you can in this regard. It would be extremely distressing for both myself and others should you die.

Don't worry, I'll sleep some more, she muttered. But if these turn out to be my last days, Saavar, I really hate the thought of spending them sleeping. I hate just lying here, waiting... she frowned.

Yes, you will sleep, but not just yet. His mind tone was one of amusement. I am selfish and wish to meld with you. I can assist you to slow your metabolism and conserve more energy by meditation and this is a good opportunity to teach you as well as spend time with you. I would not enjoy missing any opportunity to be with you at this time. Support is vital. For you and I. You saved my life at a cost to yourself. It was a selfless act. One that I cannot possibly repay. If it is acceptable to you I will remain with you.

She smiled softly. You're not the only selfish one, Saavar. I find I enjoy our melds. And you're right, I could probably use the training, if it might help me get better. She paused, her eyes studying him. You brought me out of a coma... I'd consider any debt repaid. I don't want repayment, anyway. Believe me, I got plenty out of my selfless act. She grinned and turned her hand over to intertwine her fingers with his. Very acceptable.

He smiled and allowed the pleasure of her intimacy to color his mental tone. I too received more from our joining than I expected. Far more than I have any right to expect. You are a desirable woman, Shirik, and I have truly enjoyed our time together. I look forward to spending many more hours with you. He looked at their entwined hands. It is fitting that we shared of ourselves. I will always carry your memory and the comfort of your presence in my mind. I will treasure it for the entirety of my lifespan.

She smiled, his words touching her. Me too, she said simply, remembering the surprising, intense, wonderful night they spent together, and the quiet times since. His presence was calming, comforting, bringing her a sense of safety and peace all the time. And she sensed she brought him a similar peace, one he hadn't had with his wife, one she was happy to give him.

Peace is a rare gift, he thought. Yes, it is true that I have experienced a peace with you that I am most enthusiastic to explore. If by any small measure I give to you in the same way, then it makes me happy. I have considered much in the last eight hours. This bonding experience has altered the course of my life. I realize now that as an individual I was not truly happy with my marriage to T'Sirra, it was only satisfactory in the Vulcan sense. There was no satisfaction in the emotional sense. It seems I am gifted to be my father's son. Romulan by birth and nature. You have allowed me to face the truth of my emotive existence. It is a truth about myself that I had not previously faced, only avoided, or at best ignored. I thank you, for I feel more enlightened about myself. That is a gift of rare wonder.

She squeezed his hand with a pleased smile. You were always more than Vulcan, she said. We can't ignore who we are. I'm happy if I helped you to learn that. She paused. What will you do, then? About T'Sirra? Have you contacted her since...?

No, I have not contacted her. I will, however I require more time to consider my course of action. It would be ill-considered for me to act in haste without proper consideration. There is also the fact of your condition. That weighs heavily upon me. At present you are my priority. I cannot consider myself at this point in time. That would be truly selfish. He reached out to touch her cheek, brushing his green-tinted fingers along her jawline, pleased with the tactile sensation as well as the emotional response from himself and Shirik. There are things which need to be said, and done. Is there anything that I may do for you? Any arrangements that you would prefer?

She nodded, and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying his touch. I've prepared a will on my PADD, she said. Ben and Cris Sefton are already aware of it. I imagine the three of you can take care of it. Starfleet will no doubt take care of my body. I hope it will be allowed to return to my homeworld. I think my mother would prefer if I were put to rest there by the customs of my people. She didn't seem overly bothered talking about arrangements for her death. She'd already thought it through while she'd been thinking in her bed. She knew the odds weren't in her favor, and it only made sense to be prepared.

Saavar nodded. I will see that it is done and I will accompany you on the final journey when it is time.

She frowned slightly in puzzlement. What do you mean?

I will accompany you until you have reached your final resting place, and observe the customs of your people. Is that unacceptable?

She smiled softly. That would be very acceptable to me. But it would be up to my mother. I think she'd allow it if she knew about our relationship... But don't go alone. You know what I mean. She knew he would know, based on the memories she'd shared. A lone offworlder was asking for trouble. But a small official Starfleet entourage would be safe.

He smiled. I will not be alone, he thought. I am sure there would be others.

She nodded. She knew there would be one other, anyway. Thank you, Saavar, she said.

The Vulcan nodded. Shall we begin? he thought and moved a hand to touch the points upon her face that allowed a mind meld proper. The meshing of mind was swift, there was no hesitancy to join in this fashion any longer. We are one, he/she thought. This is the means by which we may slow the body. The Vulcan mind steered them both in the direction required to affect the metabolism of Shirik's body. Her heart rate slowed appreciably and in the stillness between beats Saavar took her on a mental journey through her own body.

She closed her eyes, sinking into the meld. She had no strength to resist even had she wanted to, which was a startling difference from their last meld. It was as if all her vitality and strength were gone. She let him guide her, knowing the purpose was to slow her body down and help it to last longer, but unable to wonder if it might simply make it easier for her body to shut itself down the rest of the way. Either way, she was beginning to become resigned to whatever her fate happened to be. She knew there was nothing she could do either way but wait for it to come. She was just glad that she had people around her to wait with.

"Duty"
Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Acting Chief of Science
Crewman Shyla Moreau - Astrometrics Technician
Ensign Ainsley Chambers - Counselor
Domenic Druschev - Civilian

Location: Astrometric Lab - Deck 8, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 02h05

***

The lights dimmed in Astrometrics along with all the readouts and main viewscreen and it took longer than usual before they flared back to life, prompting Shyla to look back at the console seat where Domenic had planted himself. Domenic was spinning lazily and only a little morosely but still managing to smile as the centrifugal force sent the blood to the sides of his brain. Shyla smiled, glad this particular babysitting job was for a rather precocious boy. However, Counselor Chambers spinning in the chair next to him probably went a long way towards keeping his fears quelled.

"How are you doing, doodlebug?" Shyla asked nonetheless. He certainly looked surprisingly relaxed even with his mother off the ship on a mission of her own.

"Cool," he grinned and spun again. The sight of the blonde haired Ainsley doing the same made him giggle in delight - and he was on the verge of thinking that giggling was childish when she did the same. "I left my game console in your quarters." He laughed again and closed his eyes and immediately the ship spun. "If we have to abandon ship can I go get it first?"

Shyla turned back to the viewscreen. The prospect of abandoning ship frightened her but she didn't want him to see. "If we have to abandon ship," she began, tapping the console and doing her best to keep her voice even. "We're going straight to an escape pod." She looked back at him and managed a smile. "We're not all as brave as you, Dom."

"Not very many are in fact," Ainsley added. "Our Dominic is one brave cookie." She grinned over at him She was glad to be with him, keeping him calm and knowing that he is safe.

He blushed. "I'm worried about my mom..." He smiled at Ainsley. "She should have been back by now. What happens if we have to leave?"

"If we have to leave, then you know your Mom is safe on the shuttlecraft." Shyla's eyes grew a little misty but she kept her smile. "And she'll meet us where ever we land the escape pod." Shyla looked to Chambers. "Right, Counselor?"

"That's right," Ainsley said with a nod to Dom and a smile for Shyla. She knew that it must be hard for Shyla, to her the pain of losing Storm was still very real, whereas most others had moved on. The biggest problem she'd come across with people who had lost loved ones was not the time immediately after the loss but after a few months when everyone else had moved on but they were still hurting deeply and felt that no one else even remembered.

She turned her attention back to Dom, knowing that was how Shyla wanted it to be for now. "Your mom is safe out there."

The boy nodded. "I guess."

"No, she's not!" Natalia strode into Astrometrics and cast a grin at Domenic. The blonde haired boy flew out of his seat and rushed into her arms. She swung him around and hugged him tightly. "Hey, my boy..." She kissed him and held him again and looked over his shoulder at the two other women. "Thanks, Shyla...Ainsley." She stood upright, giving them a smile of gratitude for the safekeeping of her son. "We have a lot of work to do," she said, slightly out of breath from her run through the ship. "This trouble is getting worse not better. There are some sensitive experiments in the labs that need securing. I don't know if you've heard, but I'm CSO...acting CSO," she corrected. "So I guess it's up to me to organize it. I've passed the word to secure everything - but I can't reach everyone with coms down. If we don't do something to secure the Arboretum we might lose it. Its extremely delicate ecology will suffer if we have any kind of fluctuation in temperature or pressure. I haven't seen Doctor Quezith at all. Can you help?" She looked at Ainsley as well.

"Aye, sir," Shyla said, getting to her feet. "That was one message that managed to get through." She walked up to Natalia and Domenic, placing one hand on the child's head and tousling it a little. "I can get started with the Arboretum. My guess is that Doctor Quezith is busy in Sickbay."

Ainsley nodded. "You can count on me to help out too. I think the four of us can take care of that all." She looked at Dom. "You think you can help us too?"

"Da!" he shouted enthusiastically. "What do we need to do?" He looked up at Natalia, a beaming smile on his face.

"We need four Mark 3 portable force field generators, and a heating unit. They should be in cargo bay four on this deck. We'll need a grav lifter to carry them. We'll set them up against the bulkheads to seal the area - that will maintain atmosphere and pressure in case we lose life support. The heating unit will maintain the temperature." She looked at the two women. "Shall we?"

"I'll be right behind you," Shyla said, turning back to the console. "I'm going to route astrometric sensors to the main science station. They're still working sporadically. They may need them."

Natalia nodded. "Let's get it done!" she grinned and tousled Domenic's hair. For once he didn't try to duck and weave - instead he just reached for Natalia's hand and she took it.

***0356hrs***

The science labs were being secured by the science officers and operations staff that normally occupied the science labs. Borrowing the idea from an ops officer, they were using EVA suited Operations staff to relay communications and getting the job done. Natalia's orders were being followed - and she knew that this was a time she had to show definite leadership. There were some shaky crew, but with a calming smile and a manner that was cool under pressure, she managed to get them organizing a careful shut down of everything that might suffer.

Science experiments that required continued monitoring were isolated with portable power supplies and rigged to be free of ship systems. With plenty to do the science staff worked hard and fast, knowing that the clock was running - even if the ship fell to pieces something would survive it.

The portable force fields and power units were being assembled in the Arboretum, and Natalia and Domenic were together; it surprised Natalia to discover that her son was quite familiar with the requirements of many of the species within the Arboretum. He was an apt pupil and he was watching and listening intently as Operations staff helped assemble what was required.

It was good having Ainsley Chambers there - she was always ready with a smile, and that helped calm many nerves. The Counselor was good - Natalia had to allow her that - and she was able to see another side to her. Somewhere during the crisis, Natalia realized that she didn't really hold a grudge against the blonde Counselor at all. She couldn't help liking her.

The computer announcing self destruct took them all by surprise. Motion seemed to stop all around them as the voice told them that they had a limited time available before the ship died. Natalia was filled with dread, but they were orbiting a Class M world - and that would be their salvation.

She weighed up the options. Evacuate or stay? Risk everything or be able to set up on a new world if that was what was required? Certainly her science officers were not needed to repair, or do anything to save the ship. First rule of command - look after your command. Crew before ship. She stepped over to Ainsley.

"We have a clear choice," she said peremptorily. "We get as much off the ship as we can and be able to set up on the planet, or we stay and do make-work until the ship blows. We have very little internal communications - and a limited time to act. Opinions?" She looked at the Counselor seriously.

"I say we get working on the evacuation," she answered sincerely. From a counseling perspective Ainsley couldn't recommend that they stay here and wait to blow up, it was against everything she'd been taught and that she believed in, it was always better to get people working on something goal-oriented.

Natalia smiled and nodded. "Da, my thought entirely." Natalia turned to a science crewman, a Chief Petty Officer. "Pass the word - evacuate the science labs immediately - orderly evacuation of the data stacks and lock everything down. All science personnel not required for this watch to stand down and evacuate to the life pods. Get a security officer to accompany you - make sure there's no panic. Do it orderly and I want as much survival equipment as possible taken to the hangar deck for loading into the shuttles, we'll need it. Make sure Operations knows what's happening to pass the word. Beta and Gamma watch personnel will go now." He nodded and walked away. Natalia turned back to Ainsley. "I need you to look after Domenic for me." She looked Ainsley in the eyes. "Get him into a pod okay? I have to stay...it is...my duty."

"It's not your duty to get yourself blown up for no reason," Ainsley answered. "We'll grab what we can and go. It's not like we are protecting the lab from intruders and have to stay here until the last minute to make sure they don't steal anything. All that's going to happen is the lab is going to be destroyed, no point in getting killed along with it!"

Natalia smiled and put a hand on her shoulder in friendly fashion. The last few hours had changed her perceptions of the counselor a great deal. "You are not the acting Senior Officer of the Science Department, Ainsley. I am...therefore it is my duty to stay until every other science officer is off this ship. If the Captain needs anything from Science, I will be here to deliver...and I can do that knowing that my son is safe and in good hands." She looked away for a moment and then back at the blonde woman; her big blue eyes were watching Natalia intently. "If anything happens...if I don't make it off the ship...I have no one else to trust my son with." She gave Ainsley a smile that was uncertain, for she knew that she asked a great deal. But she had no one else...and Shyla had to look to her own child.

Ainsley just looked at Natalia for a moment, knowing what it had cost her to ask her to watch Dom. She smiled reassuringly at her. "Ok," Ainsley said finally, grasping the other woman's arm. "I'll take care of him."

Natalia nodded, the relief evident on her face. "Thank you, Ainsley...you had best get to the pods." She turned and looked at Domenic who was helping a science officer set up the portable heating systems for the Arboretum. She watched him for a moment, worry etched in her expression before she called out to him.

The boy came over and gave his mother a broad smile. "We are almost finished," he enthused, pointing back where he'd been with the officer.

"You've done well, Domenic." Natalia knelt and brushed the blonde hair out of his eyes and smiled warmly at him. "I'm proud of you," she said seriously. "I want you to go with Ainsley. She's going to take you to an escape pod. I have to stay for a short while, but I'll join you as soon as I can."

"I want to stay."

"No." Natalia shook her head and embraced him. "No, Dom, you have to go. Please, go with Ainsley. I'll see you later - I promise." She tousled his hair and smiled at him. "Everything will be okay, son - I love you."

"Love you too, mom." Domenic looked at Ainsley and then back to his mother. "You promise?"

"Da! I will be with you soon. I have to finish here first. It is my duty. Duty is important, Domenic. Now, go with Ainsley and be a good boy for her." She embraced him again. She looked up at Ainsley over Domenic's shoulder and nodded to her. Standing, she said, "Go, I'll meet up with you on the planet if we have to."

"Come on, Dom," Ainsley said. "Let's go get some good seats, ok?" She smiled at him and put her hand on his back to lead him out. She looked back at Natalia, wishing that the woman had decided to come with them.

Natalia nodded one last time, and wiped her eye as she turned back to work.

***04h02***

The warning klaxon was the three tonal chirp/scream that every Starfleet Officer had learned to dread. It stopped everyone in their tracks for a split second before the cold ball of fear materialized in every person on deck 8. Life Support Failure.

Natalia stopped what she was doing and turned to the four science officers that were finishing the portable field set-up in the Arboretum. "Everyone out. Now. Pass the order to clear the deck." She watched them go and then looked around at the Arboretum. It would take another ten minutes to finish...enough time. Temperatures would drop significantly, but deck 8 was in the middle of the ship. She'd be okay if she stayed inside the field she was setting up...that only left the Self Destruct. The command staff were working on that. She knew that the captain wouldn't leave unless it was absolutely the end. It was a gamble. Finish or let everything in here die? A part of her said to leave and to hell with it...but they had collected so many samples....

She got to work.

"Cleaning The Computer"
By: Lt. Commander Sam - Operations Manager
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Ensign Monica Gainsborough

Location: Computer Core, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 02h18

***

"I am detecting no change," Sam stated.

"Me either," Ensign Gainsborough said. "Everything still looks the same. Though, I am detecting a higher cycle of bandwidth usage being utilized in the redundant matrix processors. It could be someone making a cup of tea, or it could be our gremlins trying to make more havoc."

"Gremlins?"

"Little monsters that cause trouble," Monica said. "They usually get blamed for things going wrong."

Sam processed the data, and cocked his head to the side. "That situation seems to be unfair," he said. "It would appear that without sufficient proof, these gremlins are made to take the blame for incidents in which they may have had no part whatsoever."

Monica laughed. "Well, the stories always had the gremlins doing it. Oh, it's not like they were real. The term was just used to explain the things that went wrong that couldn't be explained. Kind of like bad luck."

"I see," Sam said with a nod. "I still believe it seems to be an unfair situation."

Monica sat up. "I'm definitely picking up something now," she said. "Grid Seven just came online in Holodeck Four." She looked over at Commander T'Kal, who was still going over holodeck logs. He'd definitely become much more alert at her announcement. There wasn't a lot of room within the computer core, but their team seemed to fit with a little elbow room to spare. "Photonic charge levels are now at the standard operating level."

Benedict smiled grimly. "Initiating the fractal barrier in the holomatrix." His fingers tapped the interface and a 'beep' signalled the successful initiation sequence. "Okay - downloading the universal translation matrix." They had managed, with Shirik Lektar's assistance from her biobed in Sickbay to design a fractal encryption barrier - a series of code shells that allowed this particular worm to pass through only in one direction. "They should now be trapped in Holodeck Four," he reported.

"They're in there," Monica said, her voice a whisper.

"I am reading a single program signature contained within Holodeck Four," Sam stated. "Parameters match previously recorded data. Initiate program Xenocommunications-77Alpha, and activate communications terminal in our present location."

Benedict nodded at Sam. "Any clue yet where the other two are?" The fractal shell would allow them into the holodeck - Benedict was hoping that if they could communicate then the other two would join the first.

The screen on the wall of the Computer Core showed Holodeck Four as a white walled room. Standing in its centre was a lone figure - humanoid. The wall opposite the monitor started to flow with script recovered from the Away Team exploration, but converted by the Universal Translation Matrix. [We greet you in peace. We are a race of explorers and we wish to communicate with you. Speak and we will understand.]

There was a long period of silence, interrupted only by the sound of Monica sipping from her mug of raktajino. Then a single word flashed onto the screen in front of T'Kal. "WHERE?"

Benedict looked at the two others and grinned. "You are on board a Starship in orbit around your home world. We discovered your facility and wanted to learn about your world. My name is Benedict. Who are you?" He spoke evenly and the computer translated it into script that flowed across the holodeck wall.

Monica moved closer to where T'Kal sat. "Oh," she whispered, "he's definitely cute."

On the imager displaying what was happening in the holodeck, the young man turned around. His eyes were alight with wonder and awe. "I AM...MAKESH," came the reply. "OF SARIEL'S KE'AY. WHAT HAS...HAPPENED?"

Benedict looked at Monica and gave her a grin and shook his head. It was a holodeck recreation - and she thought he was cute...a real blonde. "Well I think this answers the sentience issue," he said to Sam. "I think the captain needs to be here." He turned back to the workstation and activated the link. "Welcome aboard the Starship Hikaru Sulu, Makesh. Unfortunately I have to inform you that at this moment, you are a computer representation of yourself and you and two of your companions are within our ships' computer systems. Do you know how this may have occurred?"

There was a long period of silence as Makesh just looked around the inside of the holodeck, then he finally spoke: "I do not know," he said. "We...we entered stasis, and...that was the last. Your...your ship's computer...it has...made me live again? Not my own body, but...but it has worked."

"We found your stasis chambers. Unfortunately you succumbed to the virus that you were obviously trying to escape from. That virus has been brought aboard our ship - and even now some of our people are dying. Your presence in our computers is also causing danger to us - accidents have happened - people are dead. Can you call your fellow companions into the holodeck so that we may talk and so that our systems will not fail?" Benedict paused for a moment and then added, "We need your help if we are to survive this. Can you help us?"

"I--we--we shall attempt to," was the reply, "but we are uncertain of what we do." At his side, two other forms shimmered into existence. One was female, the other male, both resembled Makesh's general features. The female looked around, then shot a questioning look to Makesh. "What is to become of us?" he asked after nodding in response to her unanswered question.

"Can you remain in this holodeck and affect no other systems?" Benedict asked. "If you consent to remain here, then we will endeavor to help you as best we can." He accessed his own program database, called up the running program and commenced it. The white walls of the holodeck vanished as the woods and hills of Bajor replaced them. "Perhaps these surroundings would be more to your liking," he said. The words flowed across the air before the three figures.

The trio spoke quietly amongst themselves for a moment, then turned back to face outward. "Yes, we believe we can consent to remain here. We deeply apologize for any trouble we have caused you."

Benedict's audible sigh of relief was accompanied by a grin as he looked at Sam and Monica. "Thank the Prophets!" he said softly. He turned to the computer again. "Thank you, Makesh. Our captain will speak to you very soon. We appreciate your help and we also deeply apologize for any discomfort that we may have caused you in bringing you to the Sulu. Truly, we were unaware, but we are most gratified to meet you."

"Cristobel Closed His Eyes"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.20, 02h32

***

For a moment, time stood still.

Not literally, though.

Since approximately two minutes ago, no new patients entered Sickbay. Every patient and medical officer had found a place among the biobeds, and for that moment, no one moved from his or her place. Cristobel Sefton's place was standing watch in front of the Jefferies tube access. At the moment, there was no patient for him to assist. Eventually, another patient would arrive to demand his attention. Until the computer glitches were solved, it was a certainty that new patients arrived at regular intervals. Nearly the entire crew had been down to Sickbay for one minor injury or another, and by today, Medical had been serving repeat customers.

The relative stillness around Main Sickbay was shattered when Raina left her patient's side to check on the status of the walking wounded patients, who were congregated in the waiting room, now that most of the patients were entering sickbay through the Jefferies tubes. As a Starfleet nurse, Cristobel had to smile in awe at how Ensign Derrell was managing Sickbay today, while the senior medical staff was occupied with curing the virus and dying from the virus, respectively. As a telepathic Betazoid, Cristobel feared for Raina. She slipped from his mind, though, once she passed through the doorway out of Main Sickbay.

Cristobel closed his eyes.

The sound of a drip - much thicker than water - caught his attention. His gaze snapped to the open Jefferies tube hatch, and, from his vantage point, he could only see a reaching bloodied hand, which dripped red drops on the bulkhead.

Cristobel opened his eyes.

The Jefferies hatch wasn't even open. Nurse Sefton glanced around Sickbay, and noted that everyone was where he or she had been, before swinging open the hatch. The metal of the handle felt particularly cold on his hands. He crouched low to stare down the length of Jefferies tube and found it to be completely empty. Leaving the hatch open, Cris stood back up to his full height and backed away from the opening. He attended to M'lira's scheduled check-up, recording the sleeping virus patient's current status, and administered her next series of drugs. After quietly backing out of her private isolation room, he stood motionless to watch her as the doors closed in front of his face. It was disconcerting to see M'lira so helpless. She'd been so in control during his sleep difficulties on Risa, as well as Corran's brain chemistry degeneration. She'd even remained professional when Amy had stormed into Sickbay, falsely-accusing Cris of seeing how happy she was with Kit, and then living by the philosophy, 'If you can't have a happy home, wreck one.' He couldn't help wondering how happy Kit and Amy were now. A hand grasped Sefton's shoulder.

Cristobel closed his eyes.

Amy Reese spun Cris around, physically demanding that he face her. "Will someone please call a surgeon who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart that you're deserting for better company?" Amy pleaded, her hands folded over her breasts. She was speaking the words to "Nothing Better" by the Postal Service, a band Cris had always hoped the Suluists would cover. "I can't accept that it's over. I will block the door like a goalie tending the net in the third quarter of a tied-game of rivalry. So just say how to make it right and I swear I'll do my best to comply."

"I feel I must interject here," Cristobel responded, also speaking the words of the lyrics. "You're getting carried away, feeling sorry for yourself with these revisions and gaps in history. So let me help you remember. I've made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear. I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave. So please back away and let me go."

Amy began to sway to an imaginary orchestra, and broke into song, "I can't my darling; I love you so!"

"Oh ohhhh," Amy and Cris both sang in unison. Cris mirrored Amy's movements of holding her arms straight out, and then crossing them at the wrist. They held each other's hands, and began to spin 'round and 'round and 'round.

"Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better than making you my bride and slowly growing old together," Amy sang.

"Don't you feed me lines," -- Cris sang (as Amy harmonied, "Tell me am I right") -- "about some idealistic future. Your heart won't heal right," -- Cris continued the melody (while Amy again harmonied, "Tell me am I right") - "if you keep tearing out the sutures."

Wrapping one arm around Cristobel's waist, and then the other, Amy crooned, "I admit that I have made mistakes and I swear I'll never wrong you again."

"You've got a lure I can't deny," Cris sang back, placing his hands on her shoulders. "But you've had your chance so say goodbye." He pushed her away. "Say goodbye."

Cristobel opened his eyes.

Sefton turned around to face the owner of the hand on his shoulder, and it was not even Amy; it was Annikafiore Szerda. She had left Sickbay shortly after the start of Beta shift to get some sleep. Cris couldn't entirely remember the last time he'd seen his own quarters. He'd come to Sickbay immediately after his away mission on the 18th, and hadn't left Sickbay since. Many snack and nap breaks throughout the day had been all that kept him going.

"I'm here to relieve you," Annikafiore informed him. "Take Corran home, and let him relieve you properly."

"If you insist..." Cristobel shrugged helplessly, unable to think of anything else he'd rather do, and strode towards the Chief Medical Officer's office to offer a good night to his mother.

Cristobel closed his eyes.

The green lighting of the sterilization field felt more intense, with the overhead lights dimmed for Gamma shift, but as Cris continued towards the door to the office, the shade of green began to change along the spectrum until Sickbay was bathed in a soothing shade of blue. Cris looked around for Corran, and quickly found him standing deep in thought by the biobed closest to the exit. As Cris walked towards him, Corran sighed and sat on the edge of the biobed, unaware of Cristobel's approach. Once Corran looked over, meeting Cris' eyes, Cristobel pulled apart the opening down the front of his uniform jacket and the tunic underneath, revealing that he was apparently only wearing a black choker in place of undergarments. Regardless of how far Cris walked towards Corran, he remained to be many paces away from him, and so Cristobel stopped. A diminutive medical technician came up behind Cris, and handed him a microphone and a top hat. Cris accepted both; laying the black top hat on his head, and grinning toothily as he raised the microphone to his mouth.

"You who stole my solitude, and expelled me into this mood - who permitted you to intrude so inelegant and rude?" Cristobel sang the opening lyrics of The Ark's "You, Who Stole My Solitude." With his free hand, Cristobel shrugged off his jacket, and a medical technician who appeared to be Amaya Chen in perfect health caught the uniform piece. She swung the jacket over her head, as another medical technician, who also looked like Amaya Chen in perfect health, caught Cristobel's tossed aside indigo tunic. She too spun the shirt over her head.

"You, who haunt me all day long, who make me write this song of how you've done me wrong," Cristobel continued the song, slinking closer to Corran, with his lower lip rubbing the head of the microphone, and his eyes still forcefully locked to Corran's eyes. Meanwhile, half a dozen Amaya Chens lined up behind Cristobel and wagged chiding fingers at Corran, with over-dramatised pouts on their faces. When Corran looked appropriately chastised, the Amaya's pulled violins out of nothingness, and began to play the melody of the song for Cris.

"You, who stole my solitude, the most precious thing I owned. I never will forgive you," Cris sang on, as the Amayas spun around in circles, dancing with their arms in the air. As they continued to spin, they began to bump into one another, accidentally bruising and bloodying one another with their violins.

"You, who barricade my streets, who leave me no retreat, who haunt me in my sleep, and bitter what I eat. You - say, what did you expect for a person who's infected my association paths?" Cristobel stopped his singing and his forward momentum, to grasp the brim of his top hat and toss it away with a sultry flourish of his arm and expression. Similarly, the Amayas grasped their scalps by a fistful of hair, and tossed them away.

Finally face to face with Corran, Cristobel asked in spoken word, "Did you expect a lovesong?"

Cristobel pressed the head of the microphone against Corran's lips for a response, but no verbal response came. Cris tossed the microphone aside, and hopped up onto Corran's lap, wrapping his legs around the Achicarian's waist, as his hands found Corran's bare abdomen underneath his shirt. Leaning in to whisper in Corran's ear, Cris finally sang, "You, who stole my solitude, the most precious thing I owned. I never will forgive you."

Cristobel opened his eyes.

Sefton briskly walked the rest of the way to his mother's office. He didn't look around to see the identity of the medical technicians in Sickbay, nor to find Corran. For a moment, he cringed when the doors to the CMO's office parted for him. Earlier in the evening, nurses and medical technicians had been shouted out of Damhnait's office with, "For every second you continue to waste speaking to me, you are stealing a second of Tchalla's life" or "You are personally killing Doctor M'lira, you useless little girl."

Damhnait remained silent in her chair, with its back to the transparent portions of her office's walls. As Cris stepped up to her desk, Damhnait simply said, "Klingon poetry."

"Huh?" Cristobel asked.

Spinning her chair around to face him, without actually making eye-contact, Damhnait explained, "I interviewed Amaya Chen when I first came aboard. She said she was writing a poem, in Klingon, about the Sulu's adventure at Risa. I wonder if she finished it." Fully coming out of her reverie, Damhnait noticed the bags under Cris' eyes. "How are you?"

"The sleep-deprivation hallucinations are getting longer. The one just before lasted an entire second," Cris faux-enthused, as if it were a good thing.

"Could this be a relapse from the gas on the planet?" Damhnait quickly questioned in concern, rising to her feet to fetch a medical tricorder.

"No -- No, I checked," Cris assured her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and guided her back to her chair. "That's completely gone from my system."

"Still. You should go. Sleep," Damhnait motherly insisted.

"And what about you?" Cris sassed.

Damhnait tapped the extra medical equipment on her desk to indicate, "The Caitian adeno-associated viruses are almost ready. I'll be administering their gene therapy in a matter of minutes. Then I will sleep. Now, go. Take Corran with you."

"Yes, sir," Cris saluted, and left her office after they exchanged "g'night"s.

Cristobel closed his eyes.

"Time to Think"
By: Dwayne Sanchez

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 02h50

***

Dwayne was sitting on the bridge. He was feeling a bit bored. It was just the beginning of his shift, but he was still bored. It seemed that all the action was involving those on the planet below, or the senior officers on board.

Now, in spite of what she'd said, he still hadn't had time to ask Amy out. Not like a date or anything, hell that was the last thing he wanted to do, burst in on her and Kit's life. It was so much easier when they shared quarters, but since she'd moved out, he'd been somewhat lonely.

He glanced at the display between his hands a moment and then his mind wandered again. This time to Kelli. She'd been angry at him and who could blame her. He'd said some very stupid things. And then he kept harping on her trying to apologize to her. What an idiot he was turning out to be. It was like making love to a girl gave his brain permission to leave his head and migrate elsewhere.

Well, Sanchez ole buddy, it's time to get your head back on straight...

"Deciding Fates"
By: Captain Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Sam
Lt. Commander T'Kal
Lieutenant Thaine

Location: Conference Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 03h00

***

"I had to crawl through a Jefferies tube, then climb up two decks just to get to the bridge," Lyrr was telling Matt when Sam arrived in the conference room. She paused long enough to greet him with a nod. "Now, I'm always up for a good workout," she continued, "but if there's an emergency, I can't be expected to climb my way to my duty station, Captain. It could cost lives."

"I understand, Commander," Matt answered as he nodded to Sam, "however we're doing everything we can. We cannot rely on the ship's systems to be functioning at one hundred percent, at least not until we know what's causing these problems. Until that time, we may need to crawl through a Jefferies Tube or three."

She sighed, grudgingly agreeing with his point. As she swivelled in her chair to query Sam regarding the topic of malfunctions, the doors parted to admit Commander T'Kal. Lyrr barely suppressed a smile. "Commander...good. I think we're almost ready to get started."

Benedict didn't suppress his own smile as he nodded to Lyrr and then Salinger. "Commander, Captain...." He turned to Sam and nodded to the android also. "Commander." He took a seat almost directly opposite Lyrr and folded his hands on the table top. He was tired and by the looks of it the feeling was shared by everyone at the table apart from Sam. It was the early hours of the morning and he'd been working since the start of Alpha the previous day. Lot's of Raktajino made his hands tremble slightly, but it effectively kept him going. He noted that Tayla looked better than the last time he'd seen her.

The doors opened, shut, then opened again in quick succession, before finally the Chief Engineer of the ship walked through. His glance to the door was a wary one, and yet akin to the look of an annoyed parent of a misbehaving child. The door snapped shut the moment he was through, with an abnormally loud hiss, as if trying to catch his heel.

"Bloody hell," was heard muttered under Thaine's breath, as he sat down at the conference table.

Lyrr sighed. "I concur, Lieutenant." Then she looked aside at Matt.

"It appears that we have a rather unpleasant situation on our hands," Matt said. He cast a glance at the door. "No doubt you've noticed that it's getting worse. We need answers and we need them quickly. Each hour we spend in this condition means another hour where the situation can turn even worse. We need answers." He looked around the table, and sighed. "Does anyone have any?"

Benedict turned to look at Sam; he was the computer expert at the table. He nodded to the android.

"We have reached no conclusive answers, Captain," Sam stated, "however we have determined the point of origin of the troubles. It appears that the tests run by myself and Ensign Lektar were the cause of the initial infection. We took every precaution at our disposal, however whatever has afflicted the Sulu's systems managed to slip through all of our firewalls."

"Whatever has afflicted?" Lyrr echoed. "You still don't know what this thing is or how to stop it?"

"All information indicates it is a worm-like entity," Sam said. "However, beyond that is supposition. For those who are unaware, a worm is a computer program that exists within a computer framework to perform a particular task or function. It exists as a separate entity, as opposed to a virus which will attach itself to another program to carry out its purpose. These entities---and by my analysis, there are three---are currently residing within the ship's computer, their purpose unknown to us."

"Then isolate and eliminate them," Lyrr told him simply. "What's stopping you?"

"These constructs appear to have some degree of intelligence, perhaps sentience," Sam said. "Every attempt to isolate them, to eliminate them, has been met with resistance. The constructs seem to know when we are trying to catch them, and they seem to learn from the experience."

"Can we trap them?" Benedict asked Sam. "They seem to be drawn to a holodeck. Can we trap these worms in a holodeck matrix? Draw them in to communicate - they seem to want to communicate in the holodecks."

"They seem to want to destroy our ship and crew," Lyrr corrected.

"Do they?" Benedict asked the XO. "The only systems affected are low order systems - shutting down the warp core containment systems, opening the decks to space, changing the pressure, or altering the atmospheric mixture are ways of destroying the ship and crew. I saw the images in the holodeck myself - they didn't look hostile, or act hostile. From all accounts they seem to want to talk. Perhaps they are trying to learn how to do that. Perhaps this is a First Contact of a different sort."

Lyrr sat up stiff-backed, her look one of pure disbelief. "Commander, their form of communication caused the death of one of our officers this morning - a painful, violent death. I'm afraid, even if this is a first contact situation, such allowances can not be made. They've killed, therefore, in my mind, they are hostile."

Benedict smiled at her single-mindedness. "First Contact situations are always difficult - but the good of the many outweighs the good of the few. If contact with a sentient species costs us a few lives through simple misunderstanding, then we have to put that aside in favor of a peaceful resolution if we can. I'm not condoning the deaths of our crew, but contact is why we are out here. Who knows...these sentient programs may well feel imprisoned - taken from their world and placed in an alien environment. We took them first. Theirs is a reaction - we precipitated this, not realizing the possible consequences."

"What are your suggestions, Commander?" Matt asked, fixing his gaze on T'Kal. "I cannot allow more crew to be sacrificed in the name of making contact. There are always risks in space exploration, but we cannot allow lives to be thrown away in hopes that we might learn something new."

"Sorry, Captain, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. "I agree we have to minimize the risks. If they are sentient then we need to make contact with them. Sam and I have closed off the holodecks except for one. It's being monitored continuously. We need to make them understand that we are getting hurt, and that we need to talk...if they are sentient. We need to find a means to talk." He looked at Lyrr Tayla. "If we can't talk then we have no option but to eliminate them from the Sulu's systems. Perhaps we can create our own worm virus designed to hunt them and erase them."

"I think we should get right on that," Lyrr said. "In the meantime, since nothing else can be done, we attempt to communicate with these...entities." Lyrr's distaste at even considering the beings as 'sentient' was obvious in the unpleasant frown she gave Ben.

Her attitude puzzled Benedict. She was the XO of an exploration ship amd yet here she was showing open distaste for trying to communicate with an alien entity. She was almost xenophobic in her attitude - and that was unsettling. He tried to reassure her with a smile, nodding at her suggestion as he said, "Yes, sir," and then looked toward Salinger for confirmation.

"I think having Sam working on this task is a given," Matt said. "Who else do we have on board with technical expertise in this sort of computer-related circumstance? We'll need a team working on this around the clock until we have answers. Six man team if we can, working in shifts."

"I imagine Lt. Flummux could prove useful," Lyrr suggested. "Lieutenant" --she addressed Thaine-- "along with Sam, please assemble a team and get working right away."

The engineer gave a simple, "Aye, sir," in response, though the new course of action didn't seem to have improved his mood.

Benedict nodded; he would have suggested Shirik, but she was in sickbay...though he just might give her a padd with some details on it to keep her mind occupied.

"Let's get to work then," Matt said. "Keep myself and Commander Lyrr appraised of any progress you make. If you need additional resources, we'll see that you get them. Figuring out what these things are and what they're after is top priority. Dismissed."

T'Kal walked out of the conference room with Sam and Lieutenant Thaine, determined to find an answer to the riddle and just as determined to find a resolution that did not include terminating the first sign of sentient life they had encountered in the Gamma Quadrant - no matter what Lyrr's first reaction was.

"Opposing Views"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander T'Kal

Location: Deck 11, Secondary Hull, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 03h50

***

Her solitary climb through the Jefferies tubes was an easy one, though she imagined an entire day of having to do so would lead to some muscle aches and strain. But it was better than plummeting to her death in a turbolift. Sighing, Lyrr crawled to the end of the shaft, pushed out the panel, and slid out into the corridor on Deck 11. She returned a nod offered to her by a passing Ensign then resealed the hatch. The panel snicked into place, and after smoothing out her uniform Lyrr was on her way.

She could have summoned the officer she sought to come to her instead of the reverse, but there was nothing to be done on the Bridge except wait. Waiting always made her restless. Tapping her commbadge en route, then tapping it again until it finally activated, Lyrr called to the officer in question.

***

Benedict T'Kal had gone back to the Computer Core in the Engineering Hull with Sam and Thaine after the meeting with Lyrr and Salinger. The three men were still combing the computer systems for the worms, trying to set up secure areas so that they could in effect herd them into the holodeck matrix.

Ben's commbadge chirped.

"Commander Lyrr to Commander T'Kal."

"T'Kal here, Commander." He stopped his work at the summons and smiled at the sound of her voice.

"Commander, I'll be outside your location in one minute," Lyrr answered. "Will you please join me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he frowned at the tone of her voice but the smile remained in his tone. "I'll be waiting." He disconnected the comm and turned to Sam. "I'll be with Commander Lyrr," he said and walked out of the core. The large double doors slid shut behind him as he stepped into the access corridor and waited. His mind was still on their current problem, and he was staring into space with a slight frown when Lyrr stepped out of the cross corridor.

"Commander," she greeted him across the distance. Lyrr paused and waited for him to approach her position. She allowed a smile to touch her lips briefly when he was close. "I trust things are progressing well...."

He smiled back as he stepped within arm's reach but clasped both hands behind his back. "We're still going at it," he replied. "We've managed to secure several systems now that we know what it is we're after. It's slow going though." He didn't have to tell her how tired he was - dark circles surrounded his eyes and the set of his shoulders told how much the task was taking out of him.

Lyrr nodded. "And anything further on a method of extracting the entities from the computer?" she asked.

"We're herding them...toward the holodeck matrix. We haven't been able to extract them - we're trying to communicate first. If we can lock them into the holodeck matrix that solves the immediate problem with a resolution that doesn't resort to a final solution."

Lyrr steeled herself in preparation for the objection T'Kal would no doubt raise. "Commander, I'm here to inform you that once that 'final solution' has been designed, you will implement it without hesitation. We can't afford to take chances, not now, not after all that's happened. Those intruders must be extracted as soon as we're able."

Benedict's face did not betray his inner feelings on the order that Lyrr had just given him. Instead he remained dispassionate, a totally neutral expression as he said, "Yes, Commander. I require those orders to be officially logged before I comply with a summary execution of an unknown species prior to initial contact. I will of course go on record to dispute this order and suggest that the Commander make all available efforts to initiate communication with these possible sentient beings before taking the step of exterminating them. If I may suggest that it is likely possible that we may be dealing with the last remnants of a dying species and terminating them would be viewed as a case of genocide under article sixteen of the Federation Code of Justice." His eyes were locked upon hers.

Her patience was non-existent by the time he had finished speaking. Folding her arms tightly over her chest, Lyrr narrowed her eyes and said in low, stern tones, "Commander, we aren't even certain these things are truly alive. The one certainty in this situation is that there are approximately 150 sentient, living, breathing beings aboard this vessel who might not remain that for much longer if we allow those...things to continue roaming freely in our computer system. If it comes down to sacrificing us or them, what choice do you think Starfleet would support?"

"I have not refused your order, Commander. I am merely pointing out that I require you to log the order officially prior to its execution. I will not be held accountable for the consequences of such an order, should it be viewed adversely by Starfleet Command. This is a First Contact situation and certain protocols must be enforced. If you wish me to be your executioner, then I require written orders to that effect." His voice remained totally calm, his demeanor passive, but he totally disagreed with her order - it went against everything the Federation stood for. He knew that she was just being reactive to a crew member dying - and he felt the same - but the big picture had to be looked at, and right now he wasn't sure that Lyrr was in the right frame of mind to make a decision of this magnitude. An hour ago she had been drunk - and if this did get viewed adversely, that would come out in any hearing. He was sure that she would be judged on that. His eyes asked her if she really wanted to do this.

Noting the finality in his tone, Lyrr nodded only curtly. "I'll note your objection, Commander," she said tautly. "And unless you can prove this entity is a sentient being, First Contact protocols do not apply." She paused, gathering her resolve for the next blow she was to deal him. "In this instance," Lyrr began with no trace of a quiver in her voice, "I believe an officer who is capable of dealing with the situation objectively would be far better suited to leading this project. That's why, pending Captain Salinger's final approval, I'm placing Commander Sam in charge. Your objections will be officially noted, but I'm afraid you aren't qualified to head this team." Lyrr's gaze faltered briefly as she whispered, "I'm sorry."

The flash of anger he felt was evident in his eyes and the tautness of his voice. "I believe that we have an obligation to prove sentience before such an order can be carried out. If the entity or entities are proven non-sentient then I have no issue with carrying out your order, Commander. I will obey your order - even though I disagree with it entirely. I have not indicated in any way that I will not carry out the orders given me. I feel that it is I who am being objective, and you who are being subjective to this situation. I will gladly relinquish this task to Lieutenant Commander Sam - for I am confident that he too will have the same conclusion as I. Am I being removed because I disagree with your order? I remind you that as Security Chief of this vessel - this situation falls under my jurisdiction, and I am qualified to head this team. I think you are trying to avoid conflict on a personal level, Commander and this is interfering in your objectivity."

"How dare you accuse me of such an indiscretion," Lyrr whispered harshly. "This has nothing to do with our relationship. This is about what's best for the Sulu and her crew, and your commanding this project is not it. We may not have time to prove the sentience or lack thereof for these entities, and I don't want any doubt on your part to jeopardize the safety of this ship any further." Lyrr paused to suppress her rage, her tightly clenched jaw alluding to the struggle. "You're lucky we are in a relationship," she warned him, "because if we weren't, I'd have you thrown in the brig for the insult you just dealt me. Don't ever overstep your boundaries again, Commander. I won't stand for it."

"You accuse me!" he said softly. His voice held no animosity, almost deceptively gentle. "You imagine that I would take risks with the lives of this crew and think that I am not carrying out my orders. Commander Sam and I are trying to contain the entities while at the same time trying to come up with a means to neutralize the threat. I agree - it has absolutely nothing to do with our relationship. You have absolutely no valid reason to remove me from command. I am following my orders as specified by Captain Salinger. I have no doubts that deter me from carrying out those orders. If a request for you to put your orders in writing provokes this response then I will have to consult Captain Salinger. You are ordering me to eliminate something that may be a sentient being - and it was Commander Sam that concluded that observation, not I. Believe me when I say that I will not risk another life aboard this ship, but until we come up with a means to eliminate that threat, we have to try to communicate. We are not Cardassians, Commander - we don't shoot first and ask questions later."

Lyrr stiffened at the reference, and frowned with resentment at Ben for choosing to use it. "You will work on a method to extract those entities by any means necessary," Lyrr reiterated firmly. "In the meantime, you may attempt to communicate with...whatever they are, but when the time comes to remove them, you will do so, Commander." She nearly smirked as she asked, "Would you like that in writing as well?"

"No, Commander. Those were the original orders given by Captain Salinger. Am I still in command of the project or do you wish me to defer to Commander Sam? I would not wish to continue in this capacity when my commanding officer has shown a complete lack of confidence in my abilities."

"I haven't--" Lyrr snapped her mouth shut and sighed through her nose. He had the ability to unhinge her so completely when she should have greater control over her emotions. She chuckled wryly, then, and softened her gaze. "I trust you, Commander. That's why I want you to decide whether or not I need to remove you as team leader of this project. If something goes wrong, or everything goes right...I want you to be the one responsible. I don't want you to resent me for anything."

"I resent only your lack of trust," he replied. "This is my job, Commander - my duty. I don't need shielding from it by putting someone else in charge so I don't get blamed if something goes wrong. I know where the line is. I won't put lives at risk unnecessarily. To think that I would is a personal insult. I will to the best of my ability uphold the values of the Federation while undertaking my duty to the captain and crew of this vessel. If there is nothing else, Commander - I have work to do." His eyes were hard and unforgiving.

Lyrr's wan smile flattened completely, and her demeanour again shifted to match his - cold and filled with contempt. "Fine," she said coolly. "You're free to go." And instead of waiting for him to depart, Lyrr turned sharply on her heel and stalked off in the direction she'd come, thinking entirely that she had done well to inadvertently end their brief liaison.

He watched her turn the corner of the corridor, simmering with anger. She wasn't thinking straight - how could she after being flat out drunk for half the evening! He clenched a fist and slammed it into the bulkhead to relieve some of the pent-up frustration of what she'd said to him. She'd questioned his ability, his duty and his loyalty all in one hit. She trusted him....perhaps she'd been listening to someone else's conversation because nothing she'd said had shown trust!

He put aside his anger and walked back into the Computer Core, once again joining Sam and Thaine in their hunt for the solution. He tried to put his argument with Lyrr aside, but it plagued him and he found it difficult to concentrate, but he continued, determined to succeed.

Arriving at the access hatch to the Jefferies tubes, Lyrr's own contained rage was manifesting itself as welled up tears in her eyes. She aggressively pulled the hatch away. Before she could toss it aside, however, the ship lurched unexpectedly and the corridor was soon after bathed in the ominous glow of the red alert beacons. Realizing there wasn't time for tears, Lyrr set down the panel, slid into the tube, and resealed the hatch behind her.

It would be another long crawl to the bridge, and to assure Matt she was on her way, Lyrr tapped her commbadge to send him a message. The insignia on her chest emitted a dissonant, metallic crackle then went silent. Lyrr rolled her eyes and continued forward to the junction leading to the first of many ladders she would need to ascend.

As she swung her legs around to push through, the doors slammed shut before her. Lyrr flinched her hand away in time to avoid having her fingers caught between them, then immediately inputted manual override codes into the control panel. It went black before she could enter the entire string of commands. Cursing, Lyrr started back, only to have the same event occur with the next set of doors. She growled in frustration and shouted at the computer to override the door mechanisms and release her. The computer's typical response as of late was: "Cannot comply."

An attempt to contact someone directly through the internal comms was met with the same reply. Lyrr laughed to herself in disbelief and sat back against the wall of the shaft. She was trapped and at the most inconvenient time. "Ben, you'd better kill those things and fast," she muttered to herself, then drew her knees up to her chin and thought of a way out.

"Sticking a Fork in It"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign T'rii; Operations Officer
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; Operations Crewman

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 03h51

***

"Excellent," Farrell muttered to himself.

"Indeed," Rett affirmed.

"What seems so interesting?" T'rii said, stifling a very un-Vulcan yawn as she entered the office.

"You're here. Good," Farrell said. "Take the secondary console and tell us what you think of this."

T'rii sat and brought up her screen preferences, very Vulcan and plain. She opened the file Farrell had transferred to her screen and examined the matrix within. "Impressive," she said. "A multi-fractal encryption scheme? Where did this come from?"

"Commander Lyrr's replicator," Rett answered.

T'rii stopped her examining and turned to the two men. "Her replicator?"

Farrell grinned. "Yep. It needed work, but it'll do."

T'rii arched an eyebrow. "It appears sound."

"That's because we fixed it," Farrell smirked. "For what it was, an anti-tampering wall, it was fine. But it had all the usual access nodes. The whole senior staff could penetrate it, as could any registered technician. It kept out the unregistered and the unauthorized among *us*, but there were too many possible authorized people. It was only a matter of time before the glitches found their way in. We plugged the holes. Now there's one way in and one way out, which might make it useful."

Farrell got up and moved to the massive ship schematic that dominated an entire wall of the Ops office. "We've got three discrete entities moving through the ship,"

"How do you know this?" T'rii interrupted. Farrell turned from the board, and caught Rett's surprised look as well as T'rii's ubiquitous eyebrow.

"Commander T'Kal told me," Farrell grinned. "But that's not important."

"With respect, Mister Farrell, I disagree," T'rii interrupted again. "Are these entities aliens?"

"Nobody seems to know. T'Kal said they looked sentient, and were trying to communicate."

"They have an odd method," T'rii remarked, with practiced irony. Rett smiled and looked down to hide it.

Farrell grinned. "Yes they do. And frankly, I'm not sure they're friendly. But apparently no one knows any more than what I've told you. If they do, they're playing it close to the vest and leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves."

T'rii's eyebrows drew together in the Vulcan equivalent of a frown, and she glanced at Rett. Rett shrugged.

"I suppose there was really no reason to tell us, sir. Though it would have been nice," Rett offered. "It would have saved us all the effort of tracing the error source."

"That's not entirely true," Farrell amended.

T'rii looked back. "How so?"

"We still don't know the source. We don't know where they are. What would have been more than just nice to know is that there was more than one source. We may have scanned over one or more of these entities in *our* searching, and dismissed it as *the* source simply because we were looking for just one. One point of entry, one problem, one source, and one solution. Now we need three."

"But us being kept out of the loop is a problem for another time," Farrell said, turning back to the board. "What *is* important is that it gives us the real specifics so we know what to look for. They've got to be hiding someplace."

He turned back to the board, lit up with flashing lights and small red boxes. "We've got all these systems that are failing. And while we know what's causing it, we don't know the single most important thing. We don't know where it all comes from. If we use this encryption scheme," he waved at T'rii's monitor. "We can section off a system at a time until we find out where our guests are."

"Creating a sort of lockbox around each system. Interesting," T'rii said. "Temporary, but interesting."

"True, we wouldn't be able to maintain fractal encryption shipwide for very long. The power drain would be enormous. But it'd give us enough time to erase the error-rich memory sectors and reset to defaults, which *should* solve the crux of the problem."

"What does that do to the intruders?" Rett asked.

"Good question," Farrell said grimly. "If we can capture one or more, maybe we can turn it over to science and they can talk to it before we wipe its location."

"Science is in a shambles," T'rii said. All three shared a look. Everyone knew Tagliesh had been relieved of duty, and word was Farrell had had something to do with it.

"Once we offer it to command, it's their call where it goes," Farrell said, ignoring the questioning looks, his tone suggesting an end to the topic. T'rii simply nodded. Rett showed no reaction.

"The plan is sound, even if who talks to the entities remains unclear," T'rii said. "Why am I here? For that matter, Ensign Farrell, why are *you* here?"

"In the office?" Farrell asked. "I stayed late. When Rett found this f-code I knew I'd never be able to sleep. We brought you in just in case we were getting tired and stupid, and missed something," he finished with a grin.

T'rii attempted a smile of her own, but it came off artificial and a little unnerving. She ceased her attempt quickly. "Your plan appears sound, Mister Farrell. When do you propose to implement? Alph--"

She was cut off by a shipwide shudder that made her and Rett grab their desks, and lurched Farrell against the wall. The red alert klaxon sounded madly in the small office.

"Things Fall Apart"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Ensign Tristan Finn
Ensign Michaels [NPC]
Crewman Rush [NPC]
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Ensign Blake Corrigan [NPC+]
Lieutenant Grixble Flummux
Ensign Firece [NPC]
Ensign Monica Gainsborough [NPC+]
Ensign Niko [NPC]
Nurse Carrie Crowe [NPC]
Nurse Anders [NPC]
Lieutenant McKenzie [NPC]

Location: Various Locations, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 04h00

***

Matt Salinger looked up from his padd and to the back of the bridge where Ensign Bas Michaels gaped at his station. He looked up and noticed that all the bridge was looking at him. A blush swept up across his cheeks.

"Trouble, Ensign?" Matt asked with a raised eyebrow.

The young, human Ops officer blushed even more brightly knowing he had the captain's attention.

"It's just...I was...I was in the middle of a diagnostic, making sure the station was still...you know..."

Matt grinned. "Go on, Ensign."

"All of a sudden, in the middle of the diag, it just stopped. And...and it reset my configuration back to default. It's the third time."

Matt nodded his understanding. "Just as long as you remember it's not your workstation's fault."

"Yes, sir," Michaels said, then, "I mean, no, sir. No it's not. But..."

Matt smiled. "It's frustrating. It is for all of us. But we'll get through..."

Before he could say more, the ship lurched hard to starboard, nearly throwing everyone not secured to the deck. Then, as the ship righted itself, the bridge lighting dimmed and the alert klaxon sounded. A puzzled frown appeared on the captain's face as he turned back to the front.

"Report," he called out.

At the tactical station, Ensign Finn quickly scanned the sensors and all available data, but the perplexed look that crept into his expression told Matt that the situation was far more complex than just a red alert.

"Shields are up, weapons are charging, and...and I have no targets."

"Full sensor sweep," Matt ordered as he moved to his chair.

"Bridge crews are trying to report in, sir," Michaels announced. "En route through Jefferies Tubes. Communications throughout the ship is still iffy."

"Thank you, Ensign," Matt said. "Maintain alert status. I want all available information routed here. Is this a glitch or is there truly a threat? And, where is Commander Lyrr?"

Crewman Rush looked up from his barely functioning console to reply, "The internal sensors are only working at half-power, Sir, so I can't give you an exact location. But, they've located her in the Jefferies tubes on Deck 11, Secondary Hull."

Matt nodded. "At least she's on her way," he said. "The rest of the senior staff?"

Rush's brow furrowed as he tired to decipher the vague information displayed on his screen. "It looks like...Commanders Sam and T'Kal are on the same deck - Deck 11, Secondary Hull. Dr. Sefton - Deck 5, Primary Hull, presumably Sickbay, but the computer can't tell. Lieutenant Thaine--" Rush gave a start and pulled his hands away as the console flickered then went black. He sighed. "Sorry, sir, I've lost power."

"See if you can determine what's going on," Matt said. He glanced around and noticed that others were having similar problems. "Do what you can with what you've got. Get spotters in the observation lounge and other observation posts. If there is something out there, I want to know it..." He looked around once more and shook his head. "Damn."

The bridge lurched again, and lights fluctuated on and off rapidly. A young crewman in gold hurried down the steps to Matt's side. "Sir! First spotter indicates no sign of an enemy presence."

"Damn," Matt said. "So...so what's happening out there? Or is it all in here? See if you can track down the source of that lurching. And, keep spotters in place...just in case. Mr. Michaels, I'd like for you to help coordinate an assessment of the ship. With so many systems down, I'd like a manual assessment of the condition of ship and crew."

"Aye, sir, I'll get on it at once," he said. With that, he headed to the hatch that would lead down through the Jefferies Tubes where he could make an assessment of the ship and crew and bring a report back to the captain.

***

The air in the Jefferies tube was growing humid and stale. Lyrr passed her bare forearm over her brow to disperse the sweat, after already having removed her jacket. The lights flickered on and off frequently, making it difficult to progress in her task - she had one of the circutry panels removed to expose the insulated wires within. Without any tools on hand, Lyrr was forced to attempt the cross-wiring herself, and it was proving a tedious process.

Her neck ached from having to hunch forward under the low ceiling; the grates comprising the floor of the tube were wreaking hell on her knees. With a grunt, Lyrr soldiered on, rerouting power supply cables, swapping energy converters with stabilizer coils, and creating quite the tangle of wires. It was the one part of the entire situation that brought a smile to her lips. She was notorious on DS9 for making a visual mess of things, but no one had ever complained that she was unable to fix anything she touched. Now, it seemed everything she was involved in went bad somehow, including her relationship with T'Kal.

Keeping her mind off her current predicament, Lyrr pondered the best way to deal with moving out Ben's things. Did she help him? Did she hole herself up in her room while he did so on his own? She chided herself through clenched teeth for allowing their relationship to go beyond the merely platonic; it was wrong - Farrell had said so, Matt had alluded to it, Rett, in his own quiet way, had warned her about it, and deep within her own subconscious, she'd cautioned herself. Yet, she'd ignored them all, and why? Lyrr sighed and whispered, "Because I was falling in love, that's why." Then grumbled and pumped the manual release lever.

The doors opened a crack, then jerked to a halt. Lyrr sat up straighter, bumping her head against the top of the shaft. Her Bajoran curse resounded in the cramped space, but the pain only made her that much more determined to escape. She made a minor adjustment to the wiring arrangement, sent up a brief prayer to the Prophets, and pulled back the lever once more. This time, the doors slammed open. Lyrr took a moment to celebrate with a relieved laugh, but wasn't about to press her luck by staying around for much longer. Hastily, she tossed her jacket through the hatch, then picked up the panel for replacement.

It was then that Lyrr's luck eluded her. Crackling, blue-white tendrils of electricity crawled over the entire grid, setting the air abuzz. Lyrr's reflexes kicked in, but they weren't fast enough to throw her out of the shaft. There was a shrill hiss as the bolts leapt at her, connecting with her chest and spreading out through her torso and arms. Lyrr's cry caught in her throat as her body tensed from the current coursing through her. In another instant, the surge ended, retracting its jagged, electric arms from Lyrr. The circuit panel, still smoking from the heat, clattered to the ground from her limp fingers.

Next to it collapsed Lyrr, clinging to the last threads of consciousness, and with it her mind conjoured images of Ben, along with the thought that they would part angry with one another. One last sigh, and Lyrr's eyes fell closed.

***

"Everyone move out!" Ensign Corrigan hastily passed a sleeve across his brow, then resumed swinging his arm to usher all personnel into the Jefferies Tubes. Turbolifts were offline, as well as transporters; the only way to evacuate the deck was by crawling single-file through the cramped tubes. He groaned inwardly and continued directing all officers along the path to the nearest accesshatch.

The red alert lights were blinking with a sense of urgency, and again the computer sounded its ominous double beep, followed by the warning of impending life support failure. It couldn't get any worse, and at least the officers weren't screaming in panic. Again he tapped his commbadge, hoping it would activate in this instance. It did and he sighed heavily. "Ensign Corrigan to the bridge."

"Bridge here," came the static-filled response. "Go ahead, Ensign."

"There's a problem down here on Deck 6, sir," he replied, taking the chance that he was lower in rank than the individual he spoke to. "Life support's failing. We're trying to evacuate all personnel, but it's slow going using just the Jefferies tubes."

"Understood, Ensign. Sending a damage control team to deck six. Have people start getting into environmental suits once they're clear of Deck 6...just in case." As the static cleared briefly, the sound of Captain Salinger's voice became much more recognizable.

"Uh...yes, sir! Right away!" Corrigan swung his arm with greater vigor. Environmental suits? Maybe things could get worse after all....

***

The lights on the bridge dimmed again and Matt Salinger sighed. How long was this going to go on? He looked at the empty seat at his side and frowned. And, why wasn't Lyrr on the bridge. He turned back to the tactical station to where Solomon Rush worked diligently to track the problems he could, but there were far too many of them and too many resources on the Sulu that were down and inoperative.

"Crewman," he asked. "What is the status of Commander Lyrr?"

Rush, who had finally gotten power rerouted to his terminal, deciphered his readings. There was a curious frown on his lips. "Uh...sir? The computer indicates she's where she was when last we checked. She doesn't appear to have moved, Sir."

"She hasn't...that's...odd." He looked around. "Why would Commander Lyrr just stop in the Jefferies Tube? Someone else verify Commander Lyrr's position from their own terminal?"

There was silence, aside from the accompanying tones played by his console as Ensign Ulag inputted his commands. "Sir? My scan results are indicating the same." He looked up and around at Matt. "There was also a major power surge registered in her approximate location, Sir, but there's nothing more specific than that."

"Damn," Matt rasped. "Get someone down there to check. And, have someone from engineering check on that power surge."

"Right away, sir," came Ulag's prompt reply. He spoke quietly for a time into his communicator, Matt watching his lips move. Ulag raised his head towards Matt. "Ensign Finn has acknowledged, sir. He says he's on his way. I've unable to reach Engineering at this time, though."

"Send a runner to Engineering," Matt said. "And...good. Have Ensign Finn report as soon as he knows something new."

"Aye, sir."

***

"Oh dear," came the muttered sound from halfway in the holodeck access hatch. "Oh dear. Could you...oh no, that won't do at all. Can you...no...oh dear. The phase calipers in the large tray. Yes, the phase calipers."

Firece appeared perturbed as his finger hovered over the various instruments. Uncertainly he reached for one and slapped it into Grixble's hand. "So, what are we doing again, Lieutenant?"

"There is a problem in the holodecks," Grixble said. "Well, in the entire computer system. Oh dear, the other one...large tray." He handed the flux inhibitor back to Firece. "There are strange characters appearing in many of the holodeck programs, and...well, I am performing a diagnostic to see if there is a problem within the holodeck systems themselves. Oh dear, that doesn't look right." He held out his hand again for the phase caliper. "Oh dear...Ensign Firece...what's...what's happening?"

"Uh...." Ensign Firece's eyes shifted warily from side to side, watching as each of Grixble's instruments levitated from the tray. The light-weight tray soon followed, and in another instant, Firece felt the ground slowly slipping away from him. "Not good...." he said.

"Oh dear," Grixble fretted. "I...I believe the artificial gravity...it isn't working. Do you...do you have anything to hold onto, Ensign?"

Firece scrabbled the wall for a hand hold. All he found was the smooth, gridded surface of the holodeck. With a startled exclaim, he found himself floating away from Grixble and the wall, while drifting higher and higher. "Lieutenant! How-- How do we stop this?"

"Oh dear. You should...find something to hold on to. See if you can get to the arch...or contact someone for help. Oh dear, oh dear." The feeling of panic within Grixble rose when he found himself drifting toward the edge of the access hatch. He really didn't want to go floating freely around the holodeck as Firece was. Oh dear.

There was a chirp as Firece's hand reached his communicator despite its ungainly movements. "Ensign Firece to the Bridge. Uh...help!"

"Bridge here," was the reply. "What's your location, Ensign?"

"Holodeck-- Whoa!" His arms flailed wildly as his body weight shifted and Firece was twirling end over end, his pace agonizingly slow enough to send the blood rushing to his head. "Flummux!"

"Oh dear. You're...spinning...oh...uh oh..." Grixble found himself drifting away from the access hatch, arms whirling around him to try to find either something to hold on to or a way to balance himself. "Help."

"We'll send someone to your location right away, Ensign Firece," came the reply from Fred's communicator.

A yelp was all he could manage as Firece bumped the wall and was sent sailing in the opposite direction. He sighed, giving up on any hope of finding anchorage, and simply enjoyed the ride.

***

Tristan Percival Finn didn't like tight, enclosed spaces. That wasn't to say that he hated them, but he knew he didn't enjoy being stuck in them. Now, he wasn't actually stuck here. There was a considerable amount of forward movement, but the walls were still closer than he would have liked.

As he moved along, he found himself singing a little song. It didn't make much sense, as far as songs went, but it was a catchy little tune. It wasn't long before he realized it was turning slightly morose, probably because of the strong smell coming from ahead of him. He frowned and sped up his pace.

Another thirty meters and a shape in the passage caught his attention. "Oh no," he whispered. "Lyrr!"

While he normally prided himself on a laid back attitude, the sight of the ship's first officer, his friend, crumpled in the Jefferies Tube sent an edge of panic in him. He scrambled forward toward her. "Lyrr," he called, fumbling for a pulse. When he found it, weakened but still there, he calmed slightly. As the relief welled within him, his mind cleared enough to act rationally.

"Finn to Sickbay."

Nothing.

"Finn to Sickbay."

Still nothing.

"Finn to Anyone."

Still no reply, not even a clarification that Anyone is not a valid request.

"Frick," he said as he gathered her in his arms and started back the other way. "Come on, Lyrr, let's get you...let's get you some help."

Carrying Lyrr through the Jefferies Tubes was a trial in itself, but if left unattended in a Jefferies Tube... "Just hang on, Lyrr, we'll get you there."

***

"--not nearly as cute as Captain Salinger, but still very cute," Monica was saying as she crawled along behind Niko in the Jefferies Tube. "Though, he was still a hologram. I really can't believe how much this ship is falling apart, and it's pretty much all his fault. I haven't had a raktajino for over eight hours. I can't remember the last time I did that in my life. Last time I tried, I just got a puddle of protein sludge on the replicator pad. It's terrible, and it smelled horrible."

"Must've been the same gunk that came out of my shower this morning," Niko quipped. "So, you never went through with our ploy to get Salinger into your arms, did you?"

Monica sighed. "I tried," she said. "Trapped myself, naked, in my refresher, and...the captain didn't come. I guess he was really busy, so they sent Crewman Davies to help get me out."

Niko halted abruptly, Monica's face colliding with her rear, and snickered as she looked back at her friend. "Davies? What happened?"

"He, uh..." She grinned. "He helped me out."

The raven-haired woman smiled slowly and shifted around to seat herself in the crawlspace. "Helped, hm? And how exactly did he do that?" She nudged her friend for details.

"Well, when he got the door open, he was...well, a little surprised to see me. I was surprised to see him too. He's definitely a sweet talker, and...he told me...well, I don't remember all the details, but...I remember him saying something about rescuing me, and...well, I thanked him with a kiss...and things got...very steamy from there. The way he was looking at me though, I couldn't help it."

Niko squealed with laughter, battering her feet against the grated floor excitedly as she embraced Monica. When she pulled back, her face was serious as she asked, "So you two...you...well...you know?"

Monica gave a sheepish grin and held up two fingers.

Her overjoyed scream resounded off the curved walls of the tube, and the two girls nearly toppled as Niko hugged Monica exuberantly. "You vixen!" Loosening her hold, Niko again looked at Monica and asked, "So...ample replacement for Captain Salinger?"

"I don't know about replacement," Monica said. "I don't think that Jeff would ever want to just settle for one woman, but he definitely helped take the edge off of pining for Matt. He also told me, if I ever needed help out of the refresher again, to contact him personally...even if I'm not stuck in the refresher at the time. I feel so naughty."

"You're a complete bad-girl," Niko corrected. The tube rocked and with a gasp Niko clung to Monica again tightly. When the shaking subsided, she sighed. "We'd better get out of here before this place caves in on us."

"That would be bad," Monica said. "And, keep moving...unless you like me running my face into your backside."

"I'm not Davies," Niko teased, her smile returning. After a suggestive wink, she was on her hands and knees again, resuming their clambering trek through the Jefferies tubes.

***

Nurse Carrie Crowe sighed and she looked up as the lights dimmed once more. She held onto the biobed she was standing against. "It's next to impossible to do steady work in here," she said softly, afraid to wake the ire of Dr. Sefton. "Not that there's anything we can do about it, but...but I hope they figure this out soon. They lost life support on Deck 6. I think they're also evacuating Deck Seven. The whole ship is falling apart."

"Well, we have to keep working no matter what." Nurse Anders reloaded his hypo. "Looks like there's bound to be a lot more injuries coming through here. We're going to be busy today."

"If only they kept old-fashioned coffee makers aboard ship," Carrie said. "Though, too much coffee just makes my hands all shaky. Come on, let's get the trays set up and ready for the doctors. I'm sure they'll be needed soon enough with how things are bouncing around. We should prep some field kits too because with the lifts and transporters down, I imagine we'll have to go to a lot of our patients."

"Without turbolifts or transporters?" Anders snorted. "They'd be dead before we got to them."

"We at least have to try," Carrie said. "Maybe if we set up remote triage areas...so we can have quicker access to some areas of the ship. I don't know if we have time to do it now though..."

The lights in sickbay blinked out, and there was a chorus of surprised chatter. It was only a short moment later that they returned, but only at half illumination. Anders exchanged a troubled look with Carrie. "We have patients on life-support and we're having power drains. This is not good."

"What about the portable emergency generators?" she asked. "If we reroute to the emergency generators, then they can keep the power up in here for at least a little while. They are still working, aren't they?"

Anders appeared skeptical, but shrugged. "Let's give it a try," he sighed and motioned for Carrie to follow as he headed for the nearest control panel.

"I need some help here," a new voice called out into the near-darkened room. He moved straight for an empty biobed, Commander Lyrr Tayla in his arms...unconscious. "She's hurt. Looks like electrocution with minor plasma burns."

"Oh no," came a muttered response. "You go, I'll get this."

Anders nodded absently, watching the golden-uniformed officer carrying their XO protectively against his chest. As he rushed off to initiate his task, the words 'mijo' and 'bactine' reached the edge of his perception. Anders only groaned and pressed forward.

***

Matt Salinger dropped into his chair, feeling the weight of all the systems that were failing on the ship bearing down on him. The lives of the one hundred fifty beings that worked and lived aboard the ship were teetering on the brink as their home threatened to pull itself apart due to the presence of a viral construct within the ship's computer core, creating cascading failures throughout the whole ship. "Report," he called out.

"Decks 12 through 15 have lost main power and are now running on auxiliary," Rush responded. "Deck 6's lost life support and is being evacuated." The young officer was concerned as he looked up from his readings. "Engineering reports that power output from the warp core is fluctuating wildly. They're currently attempting to repair the problem."

"Damn..." He was silent for a moment, before turning to tactical. "Any reported casualties?"

"Many, sir," Rush replied. "Sickbay's set up personnel on some of the decks hit hardest."

"Good," Matt said. "Hopefully we can stay ahead of the trouble. If there are any changes, alert me at once."

"Will do--" Blaring klaxons muffled Rush's acknowledgement, and his hands flew across his console to extract a status report. There was no need for Rush to say a word, for the computer said it far more resoundingly clear than he ever could have.

"Self-destruct sequence initiated," the monotonous, apathetic voice stated. "Detonation will occur in fifty-nine minutes fifty-nine seconds."

There was a moment of stunned silence while the computer's announcement was processed. Then, Matt was on his feet. "Computer, deactivate self-destruct. Authorization Salinger-alpha-alpha-nine."

There was a double-beep followed by: "Cannot comply. Detonation in fifty-nine minutes, forty-eight seconds."

Matt nearly growled as he stood and looked around the bridge. "Computer, who authorized the self destruct?"

"Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger," it replied.

"The hell I did," Matt said under his breath. "Computer, what authorization is required for deactivation of current self-destruct?"

"Authorization from Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger, ship's commanding officer, and Commander Lyrr Tayla, ship's executive officer, is required."

"Computer, where is Commander Lyrr Tayla?"

"Commander Lyrr Tayla is currently in Sickbay."

"Sickbay?" He dropped back into the command chair and opened a channel to sickbay. "Salinger to Sickbay." Nothing. "Salinger to-- Dammit. What's the status on shipwide communication?"

At that point, the computer, too, ceased responding. All that remained was the persistent whine of the klaxons and the flashing of red alert beacons. "Comms are out, sir," Ulag reported.

"I'm going to Sickbay," Matt said. "Lieutenant McKenzie, you have the bridge."

"Aye, sir," the flight control officer said.

Then Matt headed toward the Jefferies Tube access hatch, and disappeared inside. They had to stop the computer problems, but the imminent destruction of the ship had suddenly made the situation that much more dire. Now it really was a race against time.

"Bigger Things"
By: Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb; Engineering Liaison
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign T'rii; Operations Officer [NPC]
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer
Petty Officer Third Class Luis Espinoza; Operations Crewman [NPC]
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; Operations Crewman [NPC+]

Location: USS Sulu, Operations Office, Main Shuttlebay
Stardate: 57908.20 04h01

***

"Status?" Farrell asked as he reached over the desk to key off the shrieking alarm, the red lightstrips in the walls pulsing evilly.

"Power is fluctuating shipwide," T'rii announced dispassionately from her console.

"Dammit." Farrell sucked his teeth, then hit his combadge. "Farrell to Espinoza."

"Espinoza here."

"Lock down the mess hall. Grab Pfeiffer, Hamilton, and Mouse, and get up here to the office pronto."

"You got it, boss."

"Farrell to Frazier."

"Frazier here." Her voice always sounded pleasant. It was odd to consider such a trivial detail, under the circumstances. "Make it quick, sir," she continued in a lower voice, "it's getting serious up here."

"Just stream the office into the loop so we know how to allocate."

"Will do."

"Farrell out." He tapped off his combadge. "Rett, monitor the systems so we can get a handle on where to start dispatching." He tapped on again.

"Farrell to Zareb."

Static.

"Farrell to Shuttle Bay."

Static.

"Rett, see what you can do about communications. Gut an EV suit if you have to."

Rett blanched, but nodded.

"I'll be back," Farrell called, taking off at a jog.

Ten minutes later, Farrell slid to a halt through the shuttlebay doors and walked with a purpose toward the Nightingale. It was partitioned off, a temporary enclosure erected around it keeping the entire ship shielded from view.

"Is Zareb in there?" he asked Petty Officer Ner'c, alone at his post in light of the alert.

"Yes, sir," came the unnervingly placid reply.

"Call him."

Before Ner'c uttered another word, Farrell heard long heavy strides striking the deck. Zareb emerged from behind the partition, looking grim and particularly exhausted. He would have collapsed into sleep hours ago save for his own willpower and the rush of adrenalin that came with any crisis.

"That will be fine there, Ensign," Zareb said, pointing at the foot that was stepping closer to him and his ship. Red light splashed across the three men's faces periodically with the flashing alert in the relative dim of the shuttlebay.

"Sir, tell me you're prepping for flight." Farrell stopped walking. "It's anybody's guess what will fail next."

"Your concern is noted," Zareb said, turning away from Farrell and starting back towards the makeshift partition, a necessity once the holographic sheath failed. The sight of it reminded the Commander of his mistake in using the Sulu's systems to power the emitters. "Trust that from this point forward, I'll take every effort to preserve the Nightingale. Dism --"

"Sir...Ensign Vijay reporting as ordered." The pilot stopped shy of the two men to catch his breath. It had been quite a journey through the Jeffries Tubes and maintenance crawlways to get there. Just a day earlier, he had suffered a dislocated shoulder caused by a falling crewman landing on top of him.

Zareb turned back to the voice and observed both Sanat and Farrell for several heartbeats, debating how much he wanted to say in front of the interloper. He gestured to the opening in the partition and spoke in a low voice when the half-Vulcan was abreast of him. "Mister Vijay, I need you to do what pre-flight prep you can with the impulse engines offline. As soon as you finish that, we'll need to devise a way to open the shuttlebay safety doors from inside the Nightingale. Get to it."

Vijay shot the commander a raised eyebrow but simply acknowledged his orders. "Aye 'Commander. Right away...." Sanat obediently disappeared through the opening and Zareb started to follow.

"Sir?"

Zareb stopped and turned slowly, his eyes hard. "What is it?"

"Sir," Farrell said, taking a step closer, but not another, as Ner'c's eyebrow rose in unison with Zareb's. "Sir, I'm going to trust you with something, because there's no one else to trust it to. We in Ops are going to start fractally firewalling systems on board to try and locate the origin of the errors. I'm going to seal the shuttlebay, and I'm going to put code access in your name alone. You'll be in charge down here, sir, and nobody else's authorizations will work. All access will be at your discretion."

"Ensign, what is your name?" Zareb's tone was nearly neutral with just a bit of ice on the edges.

"Mason Farrell, sir."

"Ah, the infamous Mister Farrell," Zareb said, even managing a grim smile. "Nearly every system on this ship has been affected by these errors." He gestured around the shuttlebay, dimmed by radical power fluctuations and closed in by safety doors. At least the Main Shuttlebay had gotten the doors closed - above them, the Upper was still relying on the graces of their forcefield. "How do you propose to purge the infected systems of the virus before you put a locked box around it?"

"I don't," Farrell said, rising to the challenge. "I propose to trap whatever errors exist within a smaller sphere, and then have Crewman Pierce," he pointed to the lanky man in the control booth, "reset the defaults. There's no guarantee it'll be even a short-term fix, but it's the best we've got to free up the shuttlebay in case--"

He was cut off by the computer voice: "Self-destruct sequence activated. Sixty minutes to detonation."

"In case we have to abandon ship," Farrell finished.

Zareb's eyes drifted up at the computer's words and lowered when they were over. His face was calm but his eyes began shining with focused purpose, walking to Farrell and taking his arm lightly in a huge hand. He gently moved Farrell towards the shuttlebay exit.

"Mister Farrell," Zareb said, his voice low. "Even if we pack the Nightingale and every shuttle full of personnel, we'll miss evacuating the full crew by nearly half. Do you presume to draw lots or just make an announcement and see who wins their way to the shuttlebay in one piece?"

"Turbolifts are down, we have no internal transporters, and the last diagnostic showed a third of the pods inoperable. The diagnostic before that showed a different third inoperable. There's no guarantee that half the crew will make it to escape pods, and if they do there's no guarantee those pods will actually fire," Farrell responded, lowering his voice to match Zareb's. "And if we abandon ship on an unknown planet in the middle of the gamma quadrant, having shuttles down there will give us added survivability."

"A thought I'm sure your command staff has considered," Zareb said evenly. "I would recommend that you leave that task for the flight officers and focus your plan on the clearing of the escape pod systems." He let go of Mason's arm and started back towards the partition for the second time. "If your goal is to get off the ship, your time might be better spent in that endeavor."

Farrell stood in stunned silence for a moment. "You're as bad as the rest of 'em!" he called at Zareb's back.

Zareb turned back fully and looked at Farrell with narrowed eyes. "As bad as whom, Ensign?"

"As bad as most every other ranking officer on board," Farrell said, the words not low anymore, and rapid with frustration. "Command's so full of itself that no one tells anyone anything, and all the rest of us ever hear is 'the command staff's considering it'. People are dead, and the body count's only going to climb higher, and no one is in charge!"

"You forget yourself, Mister Farrell," Zareb intoned, his deep voice echoing off the bulkheads evenly. "And you forget that the Sulu is not my ship. My sole responsibility is the USS Nightingale."

"And your responsibilities stop there?" Farrell asked, the intended meaning clear.

"My responsibilities begin there," Jabari said, his even stare swiftly becoming a glower. "And they end where I decide."

"It's decision time, sir." Farrell met the glare evenly, bristling right back. "Make one, and let me know what it is so I know if I should bother sending people down here."

The space between Farrell and Zareb charged with tension in the small eternity the two men stared at one another. Ner'c stood equally motionless, save for his eyes flicking back and forth between the officers as if they were throwing actual blows. Finally Zareb took a step forward, eclipsing the fairly tall, fairly defiant Farrell.

"You shouldn't bother," he said, his tone softer than it had been but not by much. "If the Nightingale can launch, Ensign Sanat will get clear of the Sulu and begin to beam over crew randomly. I'll not decide who lives and dies merely by who can get to the shuttlebay first."

Farrell took a moment to digest that before speaking. "Thank you, sir," he said, meaning it, but not conceding anything. "That's more involved than the rest of our command staff has been since we got to this hellhole."

"A piece of advice, Mister Farrell." Zareb didn't ask and didn't wait for an answer. "There will be a great number of things your command staff will decide and do without deigning to inform a junior Operations officer." He caught Farrell's eyes with his own. "If you have a legitimate complaint about them, formalize it and send it to Starfleet Command. But I never want to hear it again. Are we understood?"

Farrell blinked once. Twice. "Understood, sir. I've have this place under your control in about twenty minutes."

"Make it ten. Dismissed."

Farrell nodded and tapped his combadge on his way out. Twice, since the first time was no good.

"Mere Chaos"
by Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
and Assorted Engineering Personnel (NPCs, NPC+s)

Location: Main Engineering
Stardate: 57908.20, 04h05

***

Main Engineering was quiet. The warp core was still under observation, but most other engineers seemed to be either catching what sleep they could, or elsewhere in the ship, trying to fix up the damage that had been caused in the last week. While there hadn't been any casualties, that didn't mean the constant barrage of computer glitches hadn't taken their toll on the physical workings of the ship.

Petty Officer Hanako Ito suppressed a yawn, and tried to look like she was paying attention. She wasn't even supposed to be here. She was supposed to be working on the Nightingale Project during the day, and during the night sleeping in her nice, comfy, warm, cozy bed...

"It doesn't make sense," the young crewman explained, gesturing frantically at the power readings, as if that might somehow help the clarity of his explanation. "The last few minutes, everything has shot up...environmental, sensors, weapons, shields...We've even been losing power to consoles, from time to time."

A sleep dulled thought fought its way valiantly to the surface. "Is the core alright?"

"Yes, for now...but the amount of power being drawn from the grid is causing secondary fluctuations. Look here."

On the large wall display, the crewman brought up a full graphical display of the warp core containment field. The petite woman raised a delicate eyebrow, and pursed her lips.

"Sir?" asked the crewman.

"Where's the Lieutenant?" It wasn't really much of an explanation, but under the circumstances, Ito couldn't really give one. It was more a feeling you had, when you knew something bad was about to happen, and couldn't tell why. There was a tension in the air, like electricity.

"Lieutenant Flummux? I'm not sure...he left mentioning something about holodeck systems..."

They exchanged a look.

It was a rather unspoken agreement amongst the enlisted personnel, that while the Andorian Lieutenant had an amazing mind when it came to anything to do with holo-systems, and indeed some of the more abstract engineering principles, his leadership skills weren't exactly a strong point of his. In a crisis, most of his "rousing speeches" tended to revolve around the words "Oh, dear, oh dear..." and a lot of stuttering.

The display on the console flickered briefly, and then died. It returned a second or two later.

That was enough for Ito to break the silence. "I think one of us should wake the Chief."

"At four in the morning?"

"I think one of us should go get some coffee ready, too."

***

Ito had been worried that awakening the Chief at four in the morning, after he had received very little sleep in the past week in the first place, would be like opening the gates of hell.

For that reason, she'd stayed back in Main Engineering, and made sure there was a coffee ready. Once he'd had a good shout and a swear, he'd be a little more amiable.

As it happened, the gates of hell really did seem to open, and they had nothing to do with awakening the Chief at all.

"Awful lot of power diverted to weapons," someone commented. "And shields..."

Ito looked up from the warp field display. "We're under attack?"

"No...just..."

And then she ship tipped sideways. Ito fell to the floor, barely avoiding being scalded by the coffee she'd balanced precariously on the side of the console, and had fallen onto the floor with her and, by the looks of things, everyone else. She remembered thinking about how the Chief would kill her for not having coffee ready, and then thinking that was a very silly thought to have at such a time.

She scrambled to her feet just in time to get a look around the room, take in the general panic, and see the lights go out. It was only a second of pitch darkness before the emergency lights kicked in, but it added to the overall terror of the situation. The Red Alert klaxon sounded.

"Report!" she shouted, when she realised she was the highest ranking officer, and a non-commissioned one at that, in the room.

"Sensors are going!" someone cried out.

"Power grid failing on deck six! Bridge wants a damage control team there...they're losing life support..."

"Get more of the back-up generators on-line," she ordered, looking back to the warp core display, and making slight adjustments to the containment field. If that failed... She tried to ignore that thought. And where in all this was the Chief?

***

"I'm up! Bloody hells..."

Thaine had half-climbed, half-fallen out of bed when he heard the chime go off. Sleepily pulling some trousers and his jacket on, he hurried over to the door. This was probably important, he realised, or they wouldn't be waking him up at...he stole a glance at the chronometer, and then wished he hadn't.

Thumping the open command on the door panel, he was faced with a very worried crewman. What Thaine couldn't work out was whether he was more concerned with the news he brought, or with the wrath he might receive from waking up the Chief Engineer at four in the morning.

After one or two nervous false-starts, the crewman explained what was happening in engineering. Thaine listened, and tiredly nodded, after commenting it had better be "damned important to wake me up at this hour!"

They'd got about half-way along the Jefferies tube, before the ship turned sideways, and he lost his grip on the rungs of the ladder.

***

Crewman Eric Corel helped the man into the environmental suit. Even though he was trained in their use himself, the damage control crewman found that they were difficult to put on. Putting a suit on someone else, in the dark, while wearing one himself, was even more tricky. The meagre light provided, by his suit and the portable flashlight he'd brought, were barely enough.

"There you go, sir," he said, trying to sound cheerful in the terrifying conditions, as he made the final touches to the suit. Sealed from the outside world, the woman inside stared at him in blank confusion, and Eric remembered to turn the communication systems on her suit on. He said the words again, and she smiled at him as he helped her up into the Jefferies tubes. "Get out two decks up...we've got someone waiting for you!" he explained, and he heard her affirmative and a thank you over the comm-link as she vanished from sight.

Eric gestured to the next in line, and hoped they'd get everyone out in time. A deck devoid of heat, light and oxygen was no fun at all.

***

"Divert power to artificial gravity then!" Thankfully, Ensign Hansen had arrived and Ito was no longer giving the orders. The responsibility of command was no longer hers, and it was a weight she was glad to have off her shoulders.

Someone must have done something, because Ito's feet returned to the floor. She had to bend her knees to stop herself from seriously hurting herself, though.

Others hadn't been so lucky. She could hear someone fighting with the malfunctioning communication systems to get a message to sickbay, but in the dim-light couldn't hear how bad the situation was.

On the other side of the room, someone shouted out about the force fields in the shuttle-bay failing. She also heard Hansen cursing as all she got was static from the shuttle bay. Tapping her comm-badge, Ito gave it a try. "Wil? Come on, Wil, are you there?"

There was only static as an answer. Then a broken stream of words. "...-ailed! We...-omeone. More power! ....-eed more..." The transmission failed. Had it been the quality of the comm-link, or had his voice been breaking into sobs?

There was no time to decide. "More power requested to the shuttle-bay!" she shouted loudly.

"All power has been allocated already by Operations," a voice from the dark said. "We've got none left.

"Petty Officer Hanako, divert power to the shuttle bay from shields." There was no mistaking who that was. Relief flooded into her as she turned to see Mark Thaine clambering out of the Jefferies tube access in Main Engineering. Blood was pouring out of a cut from above one eyebrow, and he was covered in sweat. His hair was a mess.

She couldn't remember when he'd looked a better sight.

"Ops have either got a screw loose, or they're losing control of the power grid. Do a manual over-ride, if you have to."

He was right, she realised, as she transferred the power. The shields hadn't been touched; they were still at full charge. And that meant they weren't under attack. From the outside at least.

"Alright," said Thaine, looking to Hansen. "Report, Ensign. What the hell is going on with my ship?"

"Ternary Vicissitude"
by Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer
Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay and Deck 2
Stardate: 57908.20, 04h10

***

Amy Reese squeaked as the ship listed violently again, tossing her into one of the medical consoles. She hugged the firmly rooted device for balance, and maintained her trembling hold even after the ship had righted itself. With a heavy sigh and the knowledge of what she was required to do, Amy found courage enough to relinquish her embrace and scurried across the sickbay.

"Raina!" The officer lifted her head briefly, then resumed stuffing equipment into her medkit. She certainly was way ahead of things. "Ensign Derrell," Amy called again, halting beside the woman. "Dr. Sefton wants us on roving assistance. There's bound to be injured and no way for them to get to us with the lifts out."

She looked at Amy with her best smile which was getting more difficult after having already completed another multiple shift for the week. "I know. Let's get moving."

Amy nodded duteously, and with her own pack shouldered she and Raina wound their way through the various injured occupying the bay - some in beds, most seated on the ground or standing. Another loss of equilibrium rocked the ship, and Amy stumbled into Raina, who steadied her with a hand. Amy imagined they'd learn soon enough to rely on one another as the malfunctions progressed - it was all they could do to keep themselves motivated. Out in the corridor, they moved with great haste, Amy listing all the decks that sounded the worst off. "Deck 8 is sealed off - they lost life support a few minutes ago. Decks 10 and 13 suffered loss of hull integrity - they've been closed off, too. We should probably start off with the decks still heavily occupied."

Raina had to agree with that plan. "Do where know where the largest contingent of crew is presently?"

"I have no idea," Amy replied. "Internal sensors are offline and our medical scanners aren't giving us anything." She smiled at the woman beside her, and said, "I guess we'll just have to go by instinct, huh?"

"Instinct, yes, however it's common practice to move crew to the least vulnerable and most sustainable decks available. There tend to be designated emergency shelter areas," Raina continued as they decided on their next course of action.

Amy puzzled over Raina's announcement with a frown, then gasped and bounced excitedly. "I know! The Lounge!"

"That's a good place to start." Raina directed her gaze to Amy and smiled. "Though I had no clue if I'd be right on that. It was just a possible suggestion."

Amy grinned. "Like I said," she told her with a wink. "Instinct."

"Yes, instinct," Raina agreed. "We've just about reached a Jefferies tube entrance."

Amy rushed ahead of Raina to the entry hatch and removed it with a single tug. "Go on," she told Raina, motioning her head into the darkened tunnel. "I'd sorta feel more secure if I was following you."

Raina nodded then preceded Amy into the Jefferies tube. "Ok but no laughing if I get us lost. 'Cause you know this ship better than I do." It was only an attempt on Raina's part to keep either of them from focusing on how bad things were.

"Not in the dark I don't," Amy quipped from behind. "Though, I hope you're ready for a good climb."

She continued to crawl as she answered Amy, "I'm prepared for it. Precisely why I keep myself in good physical shape." Not too keen on the idea of seeing what sleep deprivation would do to interfere with her abilities.

Before Raina reached the first vertical junction, the hatch slid open, with Cristobel Sefton crouched low to the deck on the other side. "Where are we going?" Cris asked, as if he'd been on duty in Sickbay at the start of the shaking, rather than half-asleep in his quarters.

The voice was undeniably Cristobel Sefton's, and peering past Raina's behind, Amy called out with sarcasm, "We are doing your mother's bidding. We're on roving aid. What about you?"

"I just want to help," Cristobel flatly affirmed. He stood up, but then crouched down again, as Derrell approached the open hatch. "Are we going up or down?" he asked her.

"We're headed for the lounge," Raina commented. "It's good to see you. Let's get moving. We have patients that need our attention."

Starting his climb up the rungs, Cristobel grumbled something about just having climbed down from deck two, and then more clearly asked down, "Which lounge?"

Raina thought about it briefly. "Eventually we'll hit both if they are still viable. We're targeting the areas designated as emergency shelter areas. Assuming the crew relocated there as we've lost access to various decks."

Continuing his hurried vertical climb up, Sefton visualised the ship's schematics in his head, and shared, "When we get to deck two, we'll be coming out closest to the ship's general crew lounge."

"Good," Amy called up with a heavy sigh. "I hate climbing." She added a pout for a visual expression of her distaste.

Too focused on the task ahead of them to really say anything, Raina simply responded, "Let me know when we get to deck two. Amy, Cris when we reach the lounge I'll need you two to start running basic assessments so that we can triage the injured quicker."

Amy was too focused to complain about taking orders from someone her equal in rank, but Raina was admittedly more experienced, and Amy too tired from climbing to gripe about it. Nodding, and latching onto the next rung with a tired hand, Amy struggled on, and was glad to slip into the next tube behind Cris and Raina. "What if there are too many people to handle?" Amy asked.

"It's why we have to prioritize, Amy." Her comment was nothing more than a friendly comment. "Believe me three people is better than two. We'll get through this." Raina sincerely hoped she sounded far more confident than she felt.

"We'll get through this," Amy echoed, though there was an audible quiver of anxiety in her voice. There was silence, aside from the occasional rumble as the Sulu trembled again, and the clanging of their boots and knees against the tube's metal grates. Once they reached Deck 2, however, and emerged onto the corridor the reality of impending doom was inescapable. Officers were limping down the corridor, lurching as the ship did while the red alert klaxons whined ominously. Amy pushed in closer to Raina and Cris for comfort. "I don't want to die," she whispered.

"No one is going to die," Cristobel promised, sounding like he meant it.

"Self-destruct sequence initiated," the monotonous, apathetic voice of the computer stated. "Detonation will occur in fifty-nine minutes fifty-nine seconds."

Raina heard the announcement but did her best to ignore it. "Let's see what we can do to help the rest of the crew."

Nurse Sefton sprinted for the door to the crew lounge, to perform a quick first appraisal of the injuries and to plunder the room's emergency medical kit, since the only tool he'd had in his quarters was a medical tricorder. He stopped cold about three feet away from the door, when he sensed something - or rather, when he sensed nothing - and turned to share with Derrell and Reese, "There's nobody in there."

Cris spun back towards the doors, and they refused to part even when his nose was against the metal. The control panel similarly refused to allow entrance to the lounge. Recognising the particular chirp from the computer - even through the red flashes and whining blare of the red alert klaxons - Cristobel bewilderedly said, "I think Ops locked it." He looked down both directions of the empty corridors around them. "Could everyone still be at duty stations?"

"Possible but if it was on a deck that's totally uninhabitable due to life support failures, et cetera then they'd have to have evacuated to somewhere. Now why in this universe would Ops lock out a lounge if it's been designated as a probable shelter area," Raina commented.

"The engineers and operations officers have plenty to fix, the scientists have other labs, some might head for escape pods, and, really, one shelter is easier to manage than two," Cristobel supposed. He pointed in the direction of the Officer's Lounge, and then jogged off in that direction.

Raina had to agree with that reasoning. "Let's hope we have better luck with the Officer's Lounge."

"And if we don't," Amy called as they hurried off once more, "then what? We can't just search the entire ship for injured while the rest of the crew evacuates."

"Should we look for" - Cristobel stopped to breathe in a long controlled breath as he ran - "injured crew at the e-pods?" He didn't think he could say the word 'escape' without actually accepting the idea that the ship might destroy itself. And doing so would likely send him into a fit of hyperventilation and uncontrollable shrieking.

"If they had any sense," Amy said, "they would go there. I know I don't want to stay around here for much longer."

"Might be worth a try." Raina wasn't ready to admit how dire the situation had become. Not when crew possibly needed medical help.

The triad silently wound 'round corners on their winding jogging path towards the escape pod alcoves, each focusing on steady breathing to ignore the fear. When they rounded the last corner leading to the pods, Cristobel's assumption proved valid. Awaiting them were almost a dozen Science officers and crewmen, who had escaped decks eight and thirteen, found the mess hall shelter to be locked, and so headed to the officer's lounge, but opted for the escape pods when the destruct announcement had been made. Most of them were only acknowledging their injuries now that their adrenaline rushes were wearing thin.

The injured crew were already being loaded gingerly into the empty pods by healthy officers, or those who were at least still able to stand. Amy snapped into focus and was already pulling her fieldkit from her shoulders as she rushed towards the nearest patient. For once in a long while, she remembered why she'd joined Starfleet, and it wasn't to bed every male officer aboard. In that moment, Kit invaded her thoughts and she feared for him. "Be okay," she whispered, settling to her knees beside the unconscious man. "Be okay and I'll marry you ten times over."

Cristobel had his tricorder at the ready, and announced, as soon as it was evident, "They're all suffering from mild hypoxia. Must be from a decompressed deck."

Ensign Anabelle Larkin was standing away from the others, dried blood from a laceration on her forehead covering her face, even coating her eyelashes. Cristobel went to her, scanning her to ensure there were no additional injuries he couldn't see, but once he recognised her as being from Astrometrics, he panickedly demanded, "Where's Shyla? Is she already in a pod? Did you leave her behind?"

"She -- no -- I wouldn't let her work another shift," Larkin said, all of her responses slow. "Probably quarters."

Wincing, Cris left her to grab the emergency medical kit from out of one of the pods.

"Cris!" Amy's cry seized him and her large, stunned eyes were on him. Her hands were on the chest of the brown-haired officer she'd been tending to, both clasped one behind the other and centered on his heart. "His heart's stopped!"

Sefton took her medkit - to allow her full freedom of movement - and quickly asked, "What do you want me to do?" - deferring to her seniority of rank and education.

Amy's eyes grew larger than she imagined they could and her mouth worked wordlessly until she blurted, "Me? I-I..." Cris' gaze remained firm and unmoving from hers. Was this a test designed by his mother to assess her abilities? Or did Cris truly trust her judgement? He was relying on her, as was the dying man. No one had ever done that before, and she couldn't disappoint them. Her resolve bolstered and now her expression was one of intense determination instead of fear. She snapped a nod. "Right. 20cc's Inaprovaline." Amy held out her hand to receive it, hoping it wasn't trembling too badly.

Cristobel snapped the inaprovaline cartridge into the hypospray, set the dosage, and palmed it over to Amy. Once she had it, he set his medical tricorder down on the open medkit, to more closely monitor the man's vitals where they both could see it.

"How's your patient doing?" Raina asked from her location. Currently she was treating another member of the crew but keeping a close eye on Cris and Amy in case they needed more help.

The hiss of the hypo's contents being injected startled Amy, and the tool only barely slipped away from its position at the man's neck as she jerked. She was maintaining her composure as well as she could manage. To answer Raina's question, she glanced up at Cris. "Any effect?"

For half a minute, Cristobel forgot all about appropriate time and place, and about shared history. He just grinned, and colloquially reported, "You get every man's heart going."

Amy exhaled a sigh of laughter, holding Cris' gaze warmly. "Well, there's one guy I know who would never give me the time of day." Smiling at the man who had once been her dearest friend, Amy ruefully thought of how they had come to become enemies. It seemed all so pointless in the face of their impending demise, but the time for apologies would have to wait. She held a hand out to Cris, still smiling. "Oxygen mask. Then, let's check on the rest."

Elbow deep in her own duties, Raina just smiled at the pair. "Keep a close eye on him once you have the oxygen flowing." She sincerely hoped they would find a way out of this.

Amy nodded to her partners once the mask was on securely and the man stabilized. "We make a good team...I guess." She smiled at Cris hopefully. "Don't we?"

Aiming his medical tricorder at another patient, Cristobel nodded with the caveat, "Professionally, at least." There was no malice in his slight - only cautious optimism.

"Yeah," she whispered glumly, then studied her patient once more with dampened spirits. Even if she wasn't good at saving friendships, at least she could save lives. It gave her some small consolation.

"Manual Override"
Ensign Jing-mei Liu, Engineer

Location: Deck 7 Jefferies Tube Junction 21 Gamma, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 04h13

***

Ensign Jing-mei Liu launched herself into the junction cavern, deep within the heart of the Sulu's Jefferies Tube network. She had been climbing for several minutes to reach this access terminal, which controlled the manual override controls for Deck 6.

Just above her, life support was failing.

Scarcely a few months had passed since she graduated Starfleet Academy and yet - she was not afraid.

The crimson lights of alert status flickered in the background as another engineer leaped out of the small crawlway moments later. The pair was tense; they needed to work quickly. Several minutes passed since the initial call for damage control came down to Engineering.

Liu rapidly tapped on her comm badge and started to report, "Liu to Engineering, we've reached Junction 21..."

She glanced silently to Crewman Matthews. Communication systems in this area were down.

Across the ship, progress was slow and creeping along at best. Prior to the red alert, there were just too many problems to begin with. First it was the replicators and the doors, then it spread like a wildfire. Nearly every system on the ship was showing some sign of disruption. No matter how much they tinkered with the systems, the ship was still fated to random malfunctions and anomalies.

Then, they turned life threatening.

"Isolinear command processors have been rerouted," Liu said. She fired off a set of commands with the same tenacity that earned her the nickname 'Lucky' onboard the USS Thunderchild during her cadet cruise, for an uncanny ability to get things to work through sheer determination. Liu's skilled hands worked defiantly at the console, overriding the computer's automated control over the device. The whole system seemed to have a mind of its own - and it was time for her to tell it who was boss.

"Another software problem," Matthews observed, pawing a thick, worn beard that covered a haggard face, which had seen many years of service in Starfleet.

"We need to reboot the processors."

Matthews hurriedly flung his engineering kit open on top of a bulkhead and prepared to reenergize the KLS matrix.

"Deactivating the tertiary transfer matrix..."

A tiny control panel blinked offline at their ankles.

"Reenergize the buffers."

"Aye, sir. Reenergizing," Matthews updated. "It will be another minute before they come back online."

He paused, drew in a breath and sighed.

Crisis did not afford an opportunity for respite, especially one that generated so much work for them.

There would be an end to this. A few days ago he didn't think doors would take all day to fix - or stabilizing the warp core - or repairing the rest of the systems.

But it did...

A loud, awkward crackling sound emerged from behind the tiny panel. Fire scorched the deck plating beneath them with a sustained burst. A fountain of scalding plasma sparks bathed Matthews' feet.

He leaped backward. "Curses!!" he screamed.

June Liu turned with unwavering confidence and searched the engineering kit for a fire extinguisher. She seized it and pivoted. A stream of suppression solution flowed outward and then the fire subsided.

"You OK?"

"I'll be fine," Matthews grimaced.

"We were so close..."

"Don't you ever tire?"

"Never," the young ensign spat. "I was born to do this work. There are people up there who are counting on us to do this. They may die. I'm not about to let that happen. I know this will work. I know I can do it..." She trailed off as she set about the terminal once again. Not another complication! It was just one thing after another lately, one more glitch to counter, one more array to patch, one more relay to reroute.

She looked over the grid, the damage was immense. Every command was countered invisibly, methodically. Frustration swelled in her. She tried to hold it in, to work with the anger, to channel it. She wanted to yell an infuriated cry.

Her fist - pulsating with fury - slammed violently into the bulkhead. "Work, damnit!"

Whether extreme coincidence or simply the result of the rerouting paying off, the computer responded to her last set of commands.

"Isolinear processors online," the computer chirped.

"Thank God," Matthews praised as he sunk back and rested against the wall.

"Just have faith," June said as she uncoupled the phase generators and reassembled the necessary protocols to the life support. Moments later, the systems on Deck 6 stablized - at least for the time being, barring another strange glitch.

Ensign Liu grabbed the engineering kit and motioned to Matthews. "We need to get back to Engineering and reestablish communications."

"Save the Pieces"

by Commander Lyrr Tayla - Executive Officer
Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counsellor
Ensign Tristan Finn - Security Officer
Ensign Annikafiore Szerda - Nurse [NPC]
Crewman Ken Smith - Security Crewman
and Crewman Emma Summers - Counselling/Medical Technician

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.20, 04h15

***

"Say again?" Doctor Sefton demanded.

"Derrell dispatched the damage control teams you wanted, and we've called upon the counsellors who can supplement our nursing staff here, but the entire communications grid appears to be offline," Nurse Szerda reported slower, with lessened urgency in her inflection.

"Right," Damhnait said. Taking a nap in her office was supposed to have been a compromise between continuing her work and sleeping in her quarters, but in the time it would have taken her to return to Sickbay from her quarters, she would have been able to clear her head. As it was, her head was still foggy, and she wasn't sure if she could stand firmly on her feet, with the ship's rocking. "How is Sickbay faring?"

Annikafiore offered a hand to help Damhnait up, as she offered her response, "As you hoped, tricorders and biobeds were not affected by the power fluc--"

"But the sterilisation field? It went out with the power? The virus patients - how are they? Were their oxygenators affected by the power outage?" Sefton asked in a rush, forcing herself to steadily rise from behind her desk, without Annika's help.

"I don't," Annikafiore had stepped towards the door, but stopped to glance at Sefton, "I don't know. No one was in any of the isolation rooms when it happened."

The overhead lights and sterilisation field flicked off. Holding her position, Damhnait attempted to recall, "The oxygenators run on power cells, yes?"

"Yeah, but they're huge power cells," Annikafiore said, as the lights returned. "Not like in a tricorder."

"...So the ship automatically recharges them constantly, which will flux the power anyway," Damhnait remembered out loud, swiftly striding through the doorway, ahead of Szerda. "Damn it."

"Tynann's finding the nearest engineer to get portable generators," Annika assured the Doctor, following her into Sickbay's main ward.

"We have those in the life sciences lab." Damhnait spun on her heel and sprinted to the room on the other side of her office.

"We do?" Annika wondered aloud, following quickly.

"Of course. Only two, though," Sefton said. There were five patients who required oxygen from life support. "What are Tchalla and Yulik's statuses?"

"Still wildly fluctuating since the treatment, but their bodies haven't fully metabolized the provacillium yet," Annika worried. "We have even less idea of how the Caitians are responding to the gene--"

When the lights went out, Annika's words caught in her throat. When the white and green lighting returned at half power, Damhnait wrenched open a panel, and hauled out one of the portable generators.

"Support Shirik and Kremer's oxygenators with these portable generators," Sefton decided, her voice tight. "Get the other patients on generators once the engineers get them here."

"I need some help here," a new voice called out from the near-darkened main ward. Tristan Finn moved straight for an empty biobed, Commander Lyrr Tayla in his arms...unconscious. "She's hurt. Looks like electrocution with minor plasma burns."

"Oh no," the Emergency Medical Hologram muttered. "You go, I'll get this, mijo. She need bactine, stat."

Once the elderly latina hologram had shuffled her way to the replicator, Damhnait was at her side, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll get this." With the life of the ship's executive officer in danger, Damhnait wouldn't risk letting holo-grandma go near the XO.

"Ah, mijo!" the EMH blurted out, already distracted by something over Damhnait's shoulder. The EMH shuffled away from Sefton, towards Ilan Potts, who entered Sickbay with Emma Summers at his side.

"Hello, my dear," Potts grinned wildly at the hologram. The two exchanged kisses on alternating cheeks and hugged soundly as Emma split off from them with only a slight look of distaste. "They got you a uniform!" Ilan exclaimed, referring to the EMH's mostly regulation Class-A. "Delightful!"

"So many skinned knees," the EMH said gravely. "Need mucho bactine."

"Quite," Potts agreed, patting her shoulder. "A crisis is your opportunity to shine bright, no?"

"No," the EMH said simply, disagreeing. It shot a look at Doctor Sefton, which Potts followed dreamy-eyed.

"Potts, help them find the most critical patients," Damhnait ordered, and marched back over to Commander Lyrr.

Potts smiled, nodded, and turned back to Abuela. "You can assist me, my dear. Bactine all around!" Potts puttered off as the EMH followed, absently collecting various odd items and equipment.

One of Finn's eyebrows seemed to have disappeared from his face as he watched the EMH going about her business. As she shuffled farther away, his eyebrow slowly crawled back down to a more normal position. He fixed his perplexed gaze on Dr. Sefton as she approached. "Bactine," he asked, the incredulous tone in his voice unmistakable. "I was never a fan of the cantankerous old boot, but this can't possibly be considered an upgrade." He shook his head and looked down to Lyrr. "I found her in a Jefferies Tube, scorched ODN conduits next to her. I got her here as quickly as possible."

Noticing that Finn had no safety garb or equipment on him, at a glance, Damhnait muttered, "You're fortunate that you didn't get burned or electrocuted as well," while examining the biobed's readout of Lyrr's condition. "Let us hope you haven't caused her any spinal damage in carrying her here."

After passing her hands through the sterilizer field, Emma set to work straight away. Seeing Lyrr Tayla laying on a bio bed she smiled to herself and grabbed a tray, arriving at Lyrr's side as Sefton did. "I'll remove the scorched uniform, sir." She looked at Sefton. "The sterilization field is off?" she asked. She ignored the security officer, giving him a pointed look so that he'd move out of the way.

Annikafiore, who had been flanking Doctor Sefton, scoffed at Emma barging on in. Knowing that the Doctor was entirely focused on Lyrr, Annika answered, "It's on its lowest setting." Also knowing there to be other patients without any medical assistance, Szerda hurried away to find one.

"The Commander's in cardiac arrest." Doctor Sefton ordered Summers, "Get her on a pulmonary support unit, and I need 30cc's of anaprovaline."

Emma's training kicked in. Internally warring with a desire to make a mistake, she knew that under the eyes of Sefton she couldn't afford to. Instead she remembered that revenge is a dish best served cold, and reached for the hypospray, slapping the required drug into the handle in a well rehearsed manner before slapping it likewise into the doctor's hand. She snatched up the two small devices that made up the PSU and attached them above and below the heart muscle. The steady tone and red indicators told the story - Lyrr's heart had stopped.

Summers watched the doctor as she administered the drug to Lyrr's neck and quickly drew away. Emma looked at the two closest Lyrr and said loudly, "Clear," as she activated the PSU system. Hands came clear of the body.

The medical monitoring system in the biobed triggered the PSU which shot a pulse of current directly into the heart muscle. Lyrr jumped as her body shocked.

The indicators were still red. "New Cycle." Emma's voice was stern, her fingers tapped at the biobed interface. "Clear."

Lyrr's body jumped again. This time a green pulse of light came from the lower of the two units and then it was joined by the second as Lyrr's heart started. "Sinus rhythm," Emma reported. The steady beats of the indicators. She had a small smile of satisfaction as she looked up at Sefton.

Sefton's expression remained apprehension-filled. "The PCU will keep her heart stable, but she still has deep tissue burns, worse than those apparent on her epidermis." Sefton spotted MedTech Taylforth leading in a pair of engineers carting portable generators, and called out to him, "Tynann! Grab two derm regenerators and attend to the burns on Commander Lyrr, here. Summers will show you where."

Sefton adjusted the biobed's monitor to specifically display the locations of the burns on Tayla's body, and then regarded Ensign Finn appraisingly to ask, "Ensign, do you have any medical skills?"

"While I may not be able to act as chief surgeon," Finn answered as he looked over Lyrr, "I believe I've had enough medical training to be able to assist if you need me. Just tell me what you need me to do, and consider it done." The cocky, carefree manner seemed to slough off, and was replaced with an uncharacteristic seriousness. There was a time for levity, and as Commander Lyrr lay in such a dire predicament with the ship falling apart around them...this wasn't one of those times.

"There are understaffed damage control teams scrambling the ship," Sefton informed. "I need--"

"Self-destruct sequence initiated," the monotonous, apathetic voice of the computer stated. "Detonation will occur in fifty-nine minutes fifty-nine seconds."

Damhnait swallowed a string of curses and screams with a noticeably ardent tightening of the muscles in her jaw and neck, to instead bellow, "Tynann, I need an army of antigrav gurneys." Looking around to the rest of the staff, she continued, "I need every patient stable enough for transport to the escape pods on this deck. If you can walk without medical assistance, please leave now. I am going to need all the healthy officers here to get the virus patients into the pods."

Nurse Crowe nodded vigorously and darted away, tapping a nearby technician on the shoulder to recruit him for the task. Annika, with an accented, booming voice that carried above the din, directed any patients still mobile to proceed towards the nearest escape pods, and ordered the least injured to help those worse off.

Potts showed a young crewman to the door, the lad's arm in a sling. More than likely, he'd been given only the most trivial care given the state of things in the Sickbay. Once he'd hobbled out, Ilan turned around and surveyed the space, his eyes resting on the EMH as she did her best to help another patient off the biobed. His fond smile soon became a frown as his eyes darted all around.

"Doctor Sefton?" Potts asked, concern in his voice. "Shouldn't one of those very clever engineering types be here helping Abuela prepare for her evacuation?"

With every patient, other than unconscious Lyrr and those suffering from the virus, opting to walk or hobble out of Sickbay, Sefton was administering broad based drugs, derm-patches and bandage foam to keep all of them stabilised until further treatment was possible. Without looking towards Potts, she flatly stated, "There is no way for the EMH to evacuate."

Potts looked stricken and tears welled in his milky-blue eyes. "Oh, that will not do...that simply will not do at all!" Potts tapped his combadge - the answering chirp sounded thin and sickly. "Doctor Potts to Engineering." Nothing. Another tap. "Doctor Potts to Lieutenant Flummux." Nothing. A tear fell from his eye. Another tap. "Doctor Potts to Cadet Cox." Nobody answered. Another tap. "Doctor Potts to --"

"Ilan, there are other patients to care for," Damhnait insisted, her patience already long missing. "I am certain there must be a backup of her program in a Starfleet computer back in the Alpha Quadrant. Now go make M'lira mobile."

Potts pouted only briefly, the crisis and Doctor Sefton's order winning out over his emotions. He stamped off to the private exam room. The EMH followed after giving Doctor Sefton another glare.

Emma Summers was momentarily alone with Lyrr. Sefton was calling out commands and Sickbay was frantic with smooth professionalism as the medical department became almost like a single minded entity doing what it had to. Emma smiled, the feeling of pride at being a part of this 'entity' was alien to her - but she had to give credit to Sefton - she had made this unit into something to be proud of being a part of. She looked down at Lyrr - the woman who represented a threat - but did she? For a second she reconsidered what she was going to do, only to clamp down on her weakness. Lyrr could not be moved. That was clear. She was too fragile. The wounds were deep and the shock of getting her here had affected her system dramatically. If they tried to evacuate her now she would be dead. Emma couldn't afford to make a stupid mistake out of haste. She looked up at Sefton.

"Doctor - Commander Lyrr can't be moved. I'll remain with her until the last moment. If Ensign Finn is willing to remain with me to assist I'll work on her until she's stabilized. We can make it to an escape pod later - she's not in a state to be moved without killing her." Emma's voice was calm and clear, looking between Sefton and Finn as she spoke, but her hands were working swiftly to compile the needed drugs and equipment.

"Very well," Sefton agreed, returning to Lyrr's biobed to examine her status once again. "Treat anyone else who arrives, but send them to the pods the nanosecond they are physically able. I will wait on the ship for as long as I can."

"Treat and send. Check. We'll make sure they get there," Finn answered. "And, don't worry, Doc, we'll patch up Lyrr and get her to safety. She'll be really upset at us if we let her die, and I've seen her upset. Don't want that haunting me through Sto Vo Kor...not that any Klingon would tolerate me there."

Emma stifled a laugh. "I can imagine..." she grinned.

Damhnait had already walked away.

With everyone scrambling somewhere, Nurse Szerda marched across the 'bay with a purpose of movement belying the number of bodies stumbling around her. As she huffed her way into PrivateExam-03, she found Ensign Jacobs attempting to single-handedly pull the sedated Shirik Lektar onto an antigrav gurney, on which Shirik's oxygenator had already been mounted. Annikafiore grabbed onto Shirik's legs, letting Jacobs secure her hold on Shirik's shoulders, and they swiftly lifted her onto the gurney.

Potts held open the malfunctioning door as the EMH emerged with Doctor M'lira stretched out on one of the gurneys. Abuela hummed pleasantly and seemed not at all concerned about the chaos around her. Potts fell into step alongside, placing his long-fingered hands on the gurney as well.

"You'll be okay," Potts assured the EMH. "I'll see to it that you're kept comfortable until we get back. Unless..." Potts looked at her as they pushed the gurney along. Another light tear rolled down his cheek. "Would you like me to deactivate you, when I leave?"

"Aw mijo," she offered, wiping the tear from his cheek. "You scrape your knee?" she asked earnestly.

"I scraped my heart," he said, smiling softly.

Coming up behind Potts, entirely-exasperated Sefton ordered him, "Doctor, please go check on the patients I have sent ahead to the escape pods."

"Yes, Doctor. Right away." Potts didn't look away from the EMH. "I'll see you later, Abuela?"

"Si," she said, smiling at him. They kissed one another's cheeks and Potts darted out of the Sickbay at a shockingly quick pace.

Out of PrivateExam-02, Tynann Taylforth hurriedly pushed an antigrav gurney on which Doctor Kremer lay sedated. As Tynann was turning the gurney to head towards the exit, the lights shut off - a physical manifestation of another power fluctuation. Simultaneously, the ship-charged anti-grav units on Kremer's gurney died, dropping the gurney to the floor with a loud clunk. Halfway out of PrivateExam-03, Shirik's gurney dropped to the ground too. The EMH pushing M'lira's gurney vanished along with its grav-unit. Curses of "dammit" and "knulla" filled Sickbay.

Manually hefting Tchalla Mel'Chir's non-functioning gurney, Nurse Crowe and Nurse Anders veered towards Doctor Sefton in a panic. "Doctor, the oxygenators have gone out! The generators must've lost power too. What are we to do?"

Helping Tynann get Kremer's gurney off the floor, Damhnait ordered, "There are tanks of oxygenated perfluorocarbon in each of the isolation rooms. Flood their lungs with it, and their alveoli should be able to convect some oxygen out of it. And give them all vitamin F shots to increase the oxygen carrying capacity of their haemoglobin."

Nurse Crowe nodded, then hollered for Nurse Szerda, trailing behind Ensign Lektar's gurney, to retrieve the equipment as she and Anders shuffled away with Tchalla. As the power returned, Corran and Naeema Psamtic lugged Yulik back into Operating-02 to retrieve the perfluorocarbon, leaving Szerda with Vitamin F injections.

Sickbay had been completely emptied, except for Commander Lyrr, the virus patients breathing via partially functional mechanical oxygenators and damaged lungs providing partial liquid ventilation, and the pairs of officers carrying the unreliable gurneys. Hauling one half of Kremer's gurney, Doctor Sefton led the train of gurneys out of Sickbay and dashed down the deck five corridors towards the escape pods.

Emma looked up at Finn. He was a handsome man. She gave him a smile as she worked. The sub-dermal regenerator was delicate work - she had to trace the musculature, the dead tissue sloughing away as she prepared the jagged wounds. "Thanks for staying," she said. Her hands were steady as the ship shuddered again. "I'll need you to keep an eye on the monitors...grab the vascular infuser there. She needs fluids - the burns will be drawing fluid from the surrounding tissues and we need to keep her hydrated." She smiled at him again, ignoring the activity around them.

"Monitors and fluids," Finn repeated. He looked around and grabbed the instrument she'd indicated. "You do mean this thing here that looks like a vascular infuser, yes?" While he'd never operated one himself, he'd seen it done on numerous occasions. He set to work with it and began to notice the change in Lyrr's vitals immediately. Hang on, you ol' grouch, and I'll buy you a big plate of hasperat. "You know," he said, though his voice held no mirth, "if I didn't so thoroughly enjoy running around with a big compression phaser rifle and killing the hapless aliens we happen to meet, I think I could have been a good doctor. Though, if I were a doctor, Lieutenant Bennett wouldn't use me as a wushu dummy."

Likewise with no trace of humor, Emma said, "I can imagine how the masculine image of a phaser rifle would appeal, but this takes considerably more skill, and it's far easier to kill than heal." She watched him for a moment. "Go a little easier with that, imagine you're caressing a woman you love...be gentle but firm." Her eyes showed amusement as she gave him a grin.

"Of course," Finn said as he modified his technique per her suggestion. "However, I don't go in much for that masculine image mumbo jumbo. Phallic schmallic. It's a weapon designed to disable or kill depending on the mood of its operator. That it happens to be shaped in a phallic manner is immaterial, save for those who are trying to compensate. I'm quite content with who I am, and don't need to wave around a compression phaser rifle to assert my manliness. I'm equipped and haven't had any complaints yet, so I must be doing something right. It's not the size of the nacelles, but how you regulate the warp field. Hydration levels are working back toward nominal."

Emma did laugh. Looking at him appraisingly she said, "After this is over perhaps I could offer you an objective opinion." She grinned. "Practise makes perfect after all." Her eyes held a great deal of promise and for a moment the fact that she held Lyrr's life in her hands was forgotten. "That's better," she said, noting his technique. "You have lovely eyes," she observed as she cut away the remains of uniform that had melted against Lyrr's breast.

"Thank you," Finn said with a grin. "I've been told that my elbows are quite lovely as well...well, as far as elbows and loveliness goes." Finn frowned as he glanced down at Lyrr's burned skin. Hold on, Lyrr...we're here. Just give us a little more time. He looked up to Emma and smiled. "I've always been fond of opinions. Keep quite a collection of them myself."

"I bet you do," she chuckled. Beneath the uniform the burns were deeply embedded in the muscle and fat tissues. There were several other scars that were well aged that looked unsightly. She began to work on the wound with more concentration. When the muscle was rebuilt she reached for a laser scalpel. With two deft strokes she cut away a long scar and used the dermal regenerator to join the edges of the wound. She smiled to herself...no more scar. She wondered why Lyrr had never gotten them fixed before. Probably pride, she thought. Then grinned to herself and started on another.

***

Bounding around the corner that twisted towards the escape pod hatches, Doctor Sefton was alarmed to find the hatches all sealed, the quietly grumbling patients herded against a wall, and an armed security officer watching over it all. Damhnait gestured to one of the awaiting walking patients, Ensign Viraj, to take her end of Kremer's gurney, and once he did, Damhnait marched closer to the security officer.

"What is going on? Will the pods not open?" Sefton asked, confused and worried.

"Doctor, the order to board them has yet to be passed down," a smiling Ken said as he let his hand creep to the side arm at his waist. "We are not going to open them until we get that order, not a second before. But I suppose you could camp out here in case the order does come down."

"I should hope you are simply stretching that arm, Crewman, and that it stretches in the other direction now," Damhnait stated roughly. "Nearly all of the officers here are injured or immobilized, and cannot return to duty stations, and certainly cannot be evacuated according to the schedule of the Captain or our crazy computer. For my staff to direct its attention to the rest of the crew, we need to know if these pods are even going to work or if you are foolishly guarding airlocks that open into nothingness." Everyone had silenced to hear her rant gaining speed with every additional word, until Sefton announced, "I suppose you can stand aside now, because the order is coming down from Lieutenant Commander Damhnait Sefton, the Chief Medical Officer of this ship. And do you know what that order says? Get the gorram hell out of my way, Crewman!"

Backing against the wall and withdrawing his phaser Ken backed against the bulkhead. Just what I needed: angry senior officers trying to pull rank. Better not let this get out of hand. "Dr. Sefton this ship will be evacuated according to the schedule of the Captain and not a second sooner. You are now interfering with a duly authorized watch stander, if you continue to I will not hesitate to fire." Raising his voice so the rest of the people present could hear: "And if any of your staff are thinking about pulling ye ole hypospray trick, assaulting a watchstander is a crime.... Now either pack it up or have a seat."

"Actually," Potts said, emerging from behind Sefton where the taller woman had eclipsed his approach. He'd been able to get the wounded on the other escape pods and was intent on checking them all. "There is nothing to indicate that the Captain has not given that order, Crewman. Perhaps the various com malfunctions have simply prevented us from receiving it." He gestured at the patients, his eyes still glistening from his parting with the EMH. "It would not be a violation to simply let the sick and wounded board now, rather than force us to move them again when the order does come and time will be of the essence. They are not moving as fast as the rest of us."

"Crewman," Damhnait Sefton said gently, with a friendly, disarming smile on her face. "You are sadly mistaken if you believe any of my staff would resort to violence. You are also relieved of duty. I believe our esteemed counsellor Potts, here, will wholeheartedly agree that you're severely unfit."

"That remains to be seen, Doctor," Potts said, pointedly looking at Smith an d the phaser in his hand.

Sefton threw Potts a brief pointed look that screamed, 'He disobeyed a direct order and is pointing a phaser at us!' since Potts could not receive a message telepathically.

Why do they let counsellors decide who is unfit? They are usually the most unfit personnel in Starfleet. "I don't have time to argue with you, just remember at my hearing I didn't violate Article 92." No use in facing down a mad doctor. "I hope I was being foolish, Doctor." Ken let the smile get as broad as possible as he moved away from the pods. "If you need any help just ask."

"Putting away that thing" - Damhnait dismissively waved towards his phaser - "would be the perfect place to start. We're all Starfleet here." She quickly moved to the control panel between herself and Smith, and indeed found difficulty in even opening the hatches, let alone controlling the pods. After a number of emergency medical overrides and the use of her verbal security code, the tall ship-side panels dropped down, allowing access to the lifeboats.

Obviously some more than others. Ken holstered his sidearm slowly and quickly found a stretcher to bear. No use in holding a grudge, she is just doing what she thinks is best, Ken.

Tchalla Mel'Chir's gurney was the first to be carried through the hatch of the pod. Those that could still walk aided the other officers hauling stretchers in maneuvering their unconscious patients into the emergency transportation units. For ever gurney, there was space for two less officers in the pods, officers who might sacrifice their lives so that one on the brink of death might still have a chance at survival. Their actions were the embodiment of Starfleet's principles and beliefs in their essence, though that would likely mean little to their families if they perished.

With the critical patients secured, and several nurses setting up a temporary triage post in the corridor just beyond the lifeboard alcove but still within sprinting range of the escape craft, Sefton's stress level normalised just a touch. "There," she said to Crewman Smith, "only the immobilised patients and the barest of necessary medical staff have stepped foot aboard the pods - all of which are still here - ready and available for additional crew."

The lights across the deck flickered out for a number of seconds and the ship rocked, eliciting a number of groans and whimpers. The lights returned quicker than usual, but when they did so, an empty pod and the escape pod containing Nurse Szerda and Doctors M'lira and Kremer sealed themselves and ejected.

"Computer, who ordered the launch of pods 05-03 and 05-06?" Damhnait frantically asked - worried she was about to have a phaser pointed in her face again - while Taylforth sealed off the ship-side hatches, since the forcefield separating them all from open space, where the pods used to be, might collapse during a power fluctuation.

"Pod 05-03 and Pod 05-06 are located within their berthings," the computer reported.

Damhnait's shoulders slumped, the weight of her emergency medical kit, and this spiralling ship and crew, suddenly feeling enormous. "Oh hell."

"Holding It Together"
by Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineer's Mate
and Petty Officer Hanako Ito (NPC)

Location: Main Engineering
Stardate: 57908.20, 04h19

***

The lights went out. For a moment, all of Main Engineering was simply half a dozen faces, illuminated in different ways by the light spilling out from the control panels, and set against the background thrum from the warp core.

A second later, the lights came back on. And then you could see the worry in their eyes.

The low murmur of conversation was still there at least, but subdued. It ended, plunging the room into silence, when the announcement came over the comm-system.

"Self-destruct sequence initiated," the computer's bland tones declared, without a trace of a emotion. Somehow, that made it worse.. "Detonation will occur in fifty-nine minutes fifty-nine seconds."

Thaine heard Ito's sharp intake of breath next to him. On the other side of the room, he thought he could hear someone praying. Nobody else said a word.

"We're damned well not finished yet," said the Chief Engineer, the resonance in his baritone carrying it across the room. "Keep at your stations, and hold this ship together as best we can. We can't do anything about that..." And everyone knew what that meant, "But we can make sure this ship stays running till the Captain deals with it. Alright?"

Slowly, the engineers returned to work. The conversation returned, though at an even lower level than before. Next to him, Mark found Ito looking at him, her delicate features questioning.

"We'll get through this," he said, hoping to sound like he believed it.

Ito nodded, unconvinced.

***

Calyca headed down the corridor toward Main Engineering. She wasn't running, but she was moving at a decidedly hurried pace. The self-destruct announcement had her pausing and looking up with a pop of her gum and a softly murmured, "Holy fuck," before she picked up the pace and jogged the rest of the way to her destination.

She strode through the door and took a second to gaze around, placing people, locating those in charge and spotting Thaine before making her way over toward him.

***

"Core breach!"

If the mood in Main Engineering had been dark in the past three quarters of an hour, it just became darker still. The Chief Engineer was by Ensign Hansen's side in seconds, and they spoke in hurried words.

Caly blinked at Hansen's cry and her gaze went immediately to the core. A pop of her gum and a murmured, "Well shit..." were her only real outward reaction. She adjusted her pack and turned her attention to the Chief Engineer and Ensign Hansen in time to see the woman racing out of the room.

As Rachel Hansen bolted to the door, presumably running the red-alert signal to the bridge, Thaine began shouting orders. "Ito, get on that warp field. You've got to hold that together a few more minutes. CPO Boothroyd, I need you over here right now."

"Right behind you, sir," the petite chief answered, standing just behind and a little to the left of Thaine. A core breach sort of put the self-destruct in a whole new light. Or rather took it right out of the limelight. At least for the moment.

The dark haired Lieutenant turned around, looked her up and down, and gestured to move off to the side. He spoke to her quietly. "CPO..." He trailed off, and started again. "Calyca...it's Calyca, right?"

Caly looked up at him, stepping off to the side at his gesture and nodding at his question. "Aye, sir." Her voice was as quiet as his and rather serious sounding. "Or Llew, or Caly, or Booter. I'll answer to just about anything."

Thaine nodded. He ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair. "Calyca....short of a miracle in the next five minutes, this ship is going down. You're one of the highest ranked here...and that means you're going to be one of those making sure everyone gets off when the order comes."

Now it was Caly's turn to nod, green eyes watching him closely. "Then perhaps we should see about that miracle, sir," she offered him a little smile of encouragement. "Five minutes ought to be enough time." She didn't lack in the positive attitude department or in determination, that was for sure.

What he returned to her wasn't quite a smile, but for Thaine it passed as one. "Yeah. Should be. But, if that order comes, I want you and everyone else to those escape pods. I want you making sure of that. And that's an order. Clear?"

"Aye, sir. Crystal," she nodded. Not that she thought getting everyone out of there was going to help much if the core did breach. Could they get far enough away from the ship to clear the blast radius in time? She didn't think so. And that was assuming all the escape pods worked. Which was rather debatable at the moment. "Until then, sir?"

"Until then we wait." The Chief Engineer turned to look at the top warp field specialist. "How's it going, Ito?"

The woman shook her head, but didn't answer, still intently working on the console monitoring the warp core. Thaine glanced back to Calyca. "Sorry your assignment here turned out this way."

Wait? Oh, Caly wasn't too good at waiting. Hated it usually. There were times when she had the patience of Job. But now? She frowned and followed his gaze to Ito. Her frown deepened at the shake of the woman's head. "Don't worry about it, sir," she told him half absently as her eyes scanned what readouts she could see. "Perhaps if we stole more power and diverted it to the shields?" she murmured half out loud.

Thaine nodded, and made a few slight adjustments to the power grid. The computer panels beeped at him in what seemed to be a low tone of annoyance.

It wasn't more than two minutes later that the alarm started, and the intermittent comm-link relayed the message every engineer in the room had been expecting, and dreading. "All hands, this is the captain. Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship. Make for the planet, and assemble in the main city. This...this is not a drill. Abandon ship."

Caly looked up when the announcement came and popped her gum for the first time since approaching Thaine. "Well fuck," she muttered and had her kit secured before the Captain finished speaking.

Looking to Calyca, Thaine nodded to her. "Get these people out of here, CPO Boothroyd. As quick as you damned well can."

"Aye, sir," she nodded to Thaine and glanced up at him briefly, green eyes deadly serious. "As command staff, I believe I should start with you, sir," she told him even as she started heading to where the others were. "But being the smart woman I am, I figure that's an exercise in futility," she added as she started hustling people from engineering with a well spoken, "You heard the Captain. Out! And the Boss says to hustle. Take what tools you can grab as you go, God knows we may need them, and get to the escape pods."

She was methodical and calm as she herded people from the Main Engineering. "That means you too, Petty Officer, Ito," she shooed the engineer out with the rest. "Crewmen... You and you" --she pointed to two of them-- "Make sure the officers get into pods and off this ship. Pick up any stragglers along the way and don't turn back unless you hear it from the Captain himself."

Once everyone was on their way and engineering was mostly deserted save for its Chief, she turned back to Thaine. "Alright, sir. It's time. Everyone else is out, so let's go." And she proceeded to herd him out too... Or tried to.

"Oh, no you don't," said Thaine in response to her efforts, brushing her hand off his arm. "I spent a damned long time holding this ship together from our last mission, and I'm not about to let that go to waste. We've got a few minutes yet for that miracle of yours." Even as he spoke, he was stabbing buttons on the warp field controls in front of him.

Caly blinked at the brush-off and nodded at his words, her demeanor clearly one of approval. "Well then, boss, let's get to work." She popped her gum and rubbed her hands together. "What're we concentrating on? Plasma injectors?" Green eyes scanned the readouts on the console. "Ooor the intermix? What can I do to help? Want me to do the power pilfering while you do that snazzy engineering thing?" She flashed him a grin, hands poised nearby just waiting for instructions.

One might think she was enjoying this. And in some strange way she probably was. Oh, not the danger to the ship itself, but if she was honest, she enjoyed the adrenaline rush and the challenge. And surprisingly enough, her heart was beating rather calmly and her breathing quite even.

"I could order you to the escape pods, you know? Ah, to hell with it... I doubt we'd get off the ship in time anyway now. See if those plasma injectors are back online yet...I'll look at the mix." It might have been Caly's imagination, but there seemed to be some sort of relief in his voice at the fact someone else had said 'to hell with it' and stayed.

"Yes, sir, you certainly could," she agreed with him. Whether she'd have refused or not was up for debate. "And even if we did get off, it's debatable if we'd get far enough away from the blast area to do any good," she added as she checked on the status of the injectors.

"Warning," chimed the computer, all too calmly for either of their tastes. "Warp core breach imminent."

"Oh, you don't say?" retorted the Chief Engineer. "Boothroyd, what's the status on those injectors?"

Calyca glanced up at the computer's announcement and would have smirked defiantly had the readouts she'd been studying looked any better. "They're no---" she stopped mid-word and tapped a few keys on her console.

"Well holy shit..." She blinked in surprise. "Back online and..." She tapped a readout with her finger, more out of habit than it actually doing any good. "Working properly, boss," she popped her gum and grinned at him. "Good job with the snazzy engineering thing, sir. How's the mix?"

Thaine seemed to be staring at the readout in surprise. "Stable. Bloody hell. Looks like that miracle of yours came through after all." As his hands danced deftly over the console, he sent a quick message to the bridge. "The folk upstairs are still working on the self-destruct...but we don't have to worry about the core breach any more."

Caly peered his readout and clapped him on the shoulder companionably. "Our bloody miracle, sir," she corrected him with a grin and a wink. "I have faith that they'll take care of the self-destruct. Not my time to check out just yet. Now, what would you have me do? Stay here or go help out elsewhere?" she asked. "Oh... And by the way, sir. I'd face a crisis with you any day. You've got a cool head." Which seemed to carry a lot of weight with her.

Thaine didn't respond with comment to the compliment, though there was the glimmer of a smile in his dark brown eyes. "Stick around here. Make sure that field doesn't fail again."

She thought rather highly of the Engineering Chief now. Or rather thought more highly of him than she had before the crisis. She already had a healthy respect for him after checking out the ship when she'd first gotten here. Specifically the Engineering department. To a trained eye, it wasn't hard to see just how well he and his department had held the ship together. She liked the chief, which probably showed in her face and eyes.

Their part done, the two engineers could only wait now, and hope that the self-destruct could be aborted in time.

"Gotcha"
By: Lieutenant j.g. Nathalie Gui; Security Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Roades "Mouse" Mouazer; Communications Officer
Ensign T'rii; Operations Officer [NPC]
Petty Officer Third Class Luis Espinoza; Operations Crewman [NPC]
Petty Officer Third Class Mercedes Frazier; Operations Crewman [NPC]
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; Operations Crewman [NPC+]
Crewman Second Class D'naal; Security Crewman [NPC]
Crewman Second Class Jennifer Hamilton; Operations Crewman [NPC]
Crewman Second Class Leilani Pfeiffer; Operations Crewman [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 04h31

***

"That should do it," Rett said to Mouazer, as he locked the collar ring.

"What's the word?" Farrell barked, striding back through the Ops office doors. They did not close behind him, and the aesthetic lights lining the doorway went dark.

"I've sectioned off the main shuttlebay as you instructed," T'rii said, her gaze fixed on her console. "I'm working to expand the fractal walling to the nearby escape pods as well, upon which time I will block out the upper shuttlebay. Systems are still failing, but not within the cordons."

"It's a mess," Hamilton snarked from the main console, where she was apparently assisting T'rii, "but then you always do seem to leave a mess, sir."

"What's the problem?" Farrell asked.

"As usual, an unforeseen wrinkle," T'rii explained. It almost sounded like sarcasm. Almost.

"What?"

"We can section systems off and reset the defaults," Hamilton explained, "but the defaults never got updated."

"You're kidding," Farrell said, stunned.

"No, sir," Hamilton said ruefully. "Nobody ever did that after the shakedown. So we're going to have to re-key every system with the right access codes when this is over and we take the walls down." The ship lurched again. "If this ends well."

Farrell tried a laugh. "Well, people wonder what Ops does all day, right?"

No one laughed back. Hamilton quirked a smile at the lack of reaction.

"Thanks for your support," Farrell said dryly. "Communications?"

Mouse looked up at Farrell briefly as he looked over his EV suit's controls. "The EV suit's comm unit will fill in for the local comms nicely. The transmitter is strong enough to send and receive shipwide communications without needing the ship's network. It'll be secure as long as the powerpack holds out, which, all things considered, will probably be the rest of our lives. We've got two other commrigs gutted from other EV suits that we can use as well."

"Excellent," Farrell said, smiling at Mouse's oddball humor. "Pfeiffer, take one of these and get it to Frazier on the bridge. They need some reliable access. Have her signal when she's got it."

"Uh, what?" Pfeiffer looked twitchy and pale.

"Pfeiffer, are you alright?" Rett asked, his voice soothing.

"Yeah," Pfeiffer said, the career waitress obviously ready to break down in the face of imminent death.

"Leilani," Farrell said, catching Rett's look. Farrell took her by the shoulders and got her to look at him. "Listen. We're going to be all right. You are going to be all right. We need you to focus now. Focus. Are you with me?"

Pfeiffer worked her mouth a few times, then nodded. "Yessir," she said weakly.

"We need you to get this communications rig to Frazier on the bridge. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir," she said, a little stronger now.

"Good girl," Farrell said encouragingly. "Once you deliver it," he went on as she scooped up the commrig. "Stay on the bridge and run their errands. These commrigs are only going to be able to do so much. They won't be able to sub in for the entire 'net."

"Right," Pfeiffer nodded, taking a deep breath and then moving out the door purposefully.

Everyone exhaled.

"Espinoza," Farrell said quietly, "grab a rig. You're with me. We're going to go key accesses in so we don't leave systems unprotected when the walls come down. T'rii?"

"Yes?"

"Keep expanding, and keep us informed. And stream Sanchez's console in, so the bridge knows what we're doing."

"Yes, s--" She cut herself off, and then simply repeated. "Yes."

"Thanks," Farrell said, then jogged out the door with Espinoza in tow.

There was a moment of silence in the office. Mouazer looked at Rett, who looked at Hamilton, who looked at T'rii, who looked at her console.

Rett cleared his throat nervously. "Coffee?"

***

It only took ten minutes of shouting "make a hole" to get through the Jeffries tubes to deck 4 and the escape pods Mouazer reported that T'rii was about to fractally seal. Farrell and Espinoza rounded the bend to a scene of chaos.

"No no no!" Lieutenant Gui was standing at the hatches, her arms stretched out, keeping people back from the pods. "We're not going to abandon ship until an order has been given. Get back to your posts!"

Crewman D'naal, next to Gui, pushed back a surging member of the ten-odd personnel who were trying to get to the pods.

"The order won't come!" someone shouted.

"The bridge is destroyed!"

"Command's already left! They left us!"

"We're dead in space, the planet's our only chance!"

"Goddammit get ahold of yourselves!! You're Starfleet Officers!" Gui called out. D'naal pushed the officer she'd pushed before, who this time punched her in the face. D'naal went after the officer, and Gui drew her phaser, but it was knocked away by another mobber. In an instant, the corridor was filled with kicking, struggling bodies as the two security crewmen struggled against their attackers.

"Screw this," Farrell muttered, drawing the little type I phaser from its concealed holster-pocket. "Sorry, Nat," he half-whispered as he dialed to the widest possible setting and the heaviest stun the little weapon could muster and let fly down the corridor. Three blasts later the whole mob lay in a crumpled heap.

"Make sure they're all still breathing," Farrell told Espinoza, putting the phaser away. "I'll re-key the pods."

"Uh," Espinoza said, taken aback. "Right."

Kneeling at the first pod, Farrell stripped its technician-access panel away quickly and efficiently. He set the bank of pods to recognize only red-collared codes, and picked up the panel when he noticed the first tremor in his fingers. He slammed the panel back into place with a grunt, forcing his hands to work, and fumbled with the fasteners, slapping both hands against the wall afterward and leaving them there. Leaning against the bulkhead and breathing deeply, he fought to keep the panic down.

"Boss?" Espinoza asked tentatively. Mason did not answer.

"Boss, are you alright?"

Mason opened his eyes, not remembering when he had closed them. He heard Espinoza behind him.

"Espinoza to Ops,"

"Mouazer here, go ahead."

"Something's wrong with Farrell, he--"

"I'm okay," Farrell interrupted, hoping it didn't sound too urgent. "Just a little dizzy. I'm tired. I'll be alright."

Espinoza gave a questioning look, then nodded. "Scratch that. We're ok. Espinoza out." He fingered off his commrig. "Are you sure, boss? You were out of it for like a min--"

"I'm fine," Farrell snapped. "I'm fine," he repeated more quietly, and more meaningfully.

Gui groaned as she pushed herself up off the floor and held a hand to her throbbing head. "What the Hell happened? I feel like I just got trampled by a hundred angry Klingons."

"Sorry about that," Farrell said as Espinoza helped her up. "Remember what I told you about absolutely having to hit everything in the room?"

"You'd take everyone out in the vicinity?" Nat asked as she stood up.

"Well, yeah," Farrell smiled. "Sorry, but that was the best help I could give you under the circumstances."

Nat clapped Farrell on the arm. "I got worse injuries then that when racing back home." She smiled in reassurance and then looked over to the heaped mob. "Are they gonna be okay?"

"I hope so," Farrell said.

"I think so," Espinoza affirmed. The pile started to shift as people awoke.

"Has this been going on all over?" Farrell asked Gui.

"It's been mixed; people have been performing dutifully but of the crew we have, they're young and they're scared."

"Go on now," Espinoza was saying to the dispersing mob. "Nobody's gotta know any of this happened. Just get to your posts and suck it up, uh?"

"I'm young and I'm scared," Farrell whispered solemnly. Only Nat heard him."I bet a lot of these fresh academy grads are really quakin'."

Nathalie touched Mason's arm gently. "You're not the only one who's scared, we all are to some degree or another. Even me," she replied quietly. Gui fought back the urge to hug Farrell, on one hand with the way things were going they'd probably never see each other again, and the other hand she didn't want to show her crewmates that the brave security officer was scared.

He saw it in her eyes, and gave her a slight smile that told her he understood. Lifting a hand to where hers rested on his arm, he gave it a light squeeze.

"Are you--"

"Boss!" interrupted Espinoza, putting hand to his earpiece. "They've got one!"

"What?" Farrell asked, looking away from Nat.

"Hamilton traced commands, and tracked one of the entities to holodeck four."

"Is T'rii locking it off?"

"Just waiting for confirmation."

"Confirmation of what!?" Farrell barked.

"Of-- From--" Espinoza gave a frustrated shrug. "Shit, I don't know."

"Ask!" Farrell yelled.

Espinoza jumped and asked, and stood for a few seconds receiving the answer. "From Command, sir."

"Give me that." Farrell stuck out a hand and wiggled his fingers. Espinoza handed him the throat-mike and the earpiece. "Farrell to Bridge,"

"Bridge, go ahead," Frazier responded.

"We need confirmation to lock down holodeck four and trap one of the error-causing entities. Put the captain on."

"The captain's not on the bridge, sir."

"Where is he?"

"The computer core, I think. At last report."

"Lyrr?"

"Sickbay, sir. Injured in a J-tube."

"Who's in charge up there?" Farrell was struck by the number of times he appeared to be wondering that today.

"Take your pick," Frazier said quietly, probably so whoever was in charge wouldn't hear. "Lieutenant McKenzie has the chair, sir."

Farrell sighed. "Put him on."

There was a pause, then: "McKenzie here."

"Sir, Ensign Farrell here. We've got a line on one of the entities that's messing with the system. We've got it tracked to holodeck four. We need command authorization to trap it there and take care of it."

Silence. Keeping one hand on the headset, Farrell spun Espinoza around so he could check the commrig's power pack.

"Sir?" he ventured, noticing that the indicator bar still showed green and wondering what was going on.

"You're authorized, Ensign," McKenzie said.

"Thank you, sir, Farrell out." Farrell closed his eyes in relief. "Farrell to Ops."

"Go ahead."

"We're confirmed. Wall off holodeck four, and seal the bastard in."

"Ozymandius"
by Ensign Nathanial Kitridge Ozymandius Markham
and Ensign Newton Hoffer [NPC]

Location: Main Shuttle Bay, Upper Level, Section 31C, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20 04h37

***

"Power up," Kit called from outside of the shuttle Mallory. He stepped back away from the nacelle as inside of the shuttle Ensign Hoffer started up the ignition sequence. A moment later, the nacelles of the shuttle thrummed as power rushed through them.

Kit held up a tricorder and began scanning as the diagnostic cycle on the shuttle began running. He grinned as the indicators all showed green. The field imbalance was apparently sorted out though the plasma flow regulators would need some adjusting. The Mallory would give them a much smoother ride from now on. And, with the call for preparations for emergency evacuation circulating the ship, that would be necessary. Kit couldn't imagine being stuck in a crowded shuttle in the Gamma quadrant, and then having the entire complement jostled and jounced. At least now, if the call came through to evacuate, they'd at least have a little comfort while drifting in space...or whatever they ended up doing.

Hoffer appeared at the hatch and gave Kit a questioning glance. Kit grinned.

"Looking good, Hoff," he said. "Just one more, and the Mallory is good to go. Power down, and I'll start working on the regulators."

"Sure thing, Kit," Newton Hoffer said as he slipped back inside to shut down the systems.

Once the power was killed, Kit opened the maintenance hatch and started in on the flow regulators. A moment later, Hoffer joined him. They made an efficient team between Kit's knowledge of flight control systems and Hoffer's engineering skills. Kit was even learning a few things about plasma flow rates and flux theory. All in all, the working arrangement was a good one, especially while in orbit over a planet that didn't require a lot of pilot time.

They had to be careful of the glitches that seemed to be plaguing the ship, but since they weren't using the replicators or holosystems, and had little use for doors while working on the shuttle, they were safe.

"T16," Hoff said.

Kit looked down into the collection of tools, picked one out, and handed it over.

"That's a 20."

"It certainly looks like a 16," Kit said as he fished another from the kit. He placed it in Hoff's open palm, and his partner accepted it with a grin and a nod. "So, any sign of what's causing all the trouble yet?"

Hoffer shook his head. "None," he said. "They've been thoroughly examining the bioneural gelpacks though, but they don't seem to be part of the problem. It's just like the computer doesn't even know what it's doing anymore. I heard someone saying we caught a virus, or was it three? At this rate, who knows... Whatever it is, we've got dead and dying and everything in between. The way I see it, if I just keep my head on my shoulders and don't panic, I'll be fine...provided the ship doesn't implode."

Kit sighed. "I asked for breakfast this morning," he said. "I got a boot, three boiled eggs, and targ pat�. Thankfully they do make some real food in the lounge though."

"My breakfast turned out to be a raw onion glazed in caramel, a hardcopy of Federation History of the Twenty-second Century, a pile of dirt, and two mugs of root bear."

With a chuckle, Kit handed Hoff a length of ODN cable. "Well, when we're done here, we'll swing by the lounge and see what sorts of surprises Sikara's serving up."

"It's got to be better than dirt."

Kit laughed. "You'd be surprised. At least he's changed the decor back to something less...shocking."

Hoff laughed and set aside the rest of the cable and spanner. "That should do it," he said. "Let's see how it goes." With that, he slipped back inside the shuttle and began the power-up sequence once more.

Outside, Kit took a step back and pulled out his tricorder. A moment later, the shuttle thrummed once more. After a moment of scanning, Kit grinned. "That's got it," he called. "Let's go get lunch. And, then it's back here to wait for the order to evacuate."

It was another five minutes before they were finishing putting the shuttle back together. Hoffer was closing up his toolkit while Kit replaced the maintenance hatches, again working efficiently. At least it was more exciting than sitting at the helm watching the planet sit below them.

"Life support failure imminent. Evacuate to Section 31c."

Kit looked up and frowned. He looked around the bay, but everything appeared to be normal. "Hoff, you hear that?"

"Yeah," Hoff's voice said from within the shuttle. "I'm reading everything normal."

"Markham to--"

With a whoosh, the whole bay began to rumble as winds picked up. Kit stumbled back, but grabbed at one of the still open hatches, catching himself before he was flung from his feet. Hoffer bounded out of the shuttle, but quickly stopped himself and found a handhold.

"Inside," he called.

Kit nodded and slowly eased himself along the side of the shuttle to the entrance where Hoff held himself firmly. The air was getting thick, hard to breathe. Hoff reached out a hand and grabbed hold of Kit. With a heave, he shoved Kit into the hatch and turned himself to leap inside.

Kit turned to reach out a hand to help Hoff inside. One moment, the engineer was standing there, the next he was gone.

With a cry, Kit rushed to the exit of the shuttle, holding on to keep himself from being sucked out. As the panic within him rose, the rational part of Kit's mind tried to piece together what had happened. The force field that held the atmosphere in the bay had failed, and everything that wasn't bolted down was being sucked out. Gravity seemed to be going as well.

Damn, he thought as he looked frantically around the bay.

He saw Hoffer lying just a meter away, his head bleeding from where the toolkit had connected, blocked by one of the struts from the shuttle. "Hoff," Kit shouted, then leaned out, reaching for the engineer. As he leaned farther, Hoffer's body shifted slightly, threatening to dislodge itself.

Kit lunged, catching himself on the strut. With effort, he managed to get Hoffer pushed toward the shuttle as they continued to be buffeted by the atmosphere venting into space. With one last shove, he sent Hoffer into the shuttle door. Kit heaved himself up, pulling himself toward the open door.

The bay floor rocked beneath his feet, and Kit stumbled to a knee. Pain lanced through him, spreading from his knee outward. The spanner he'd come down upon shifted, throwing his balance off and pulling him out toward the void. Inside the shuttle, he could see the vortex pulling at Hoffer's body again, threatening to bring it out of the shuttle once more.

Kit struggled back toward the shuttle, but the vacuum was winning. He looked inside the shuttle, at the body sliding slowly toward the void and then at the distance between himself and the hatch. No, he urged himself. Not like this.

With a lunge, Kit Markham lunged forward and his hand came down, finding purchase. Hoffer's eyes were open and he was sitting up. The fog that had descended over him seemed to lift when he saw Kit scrambling at the hatch outside. He looked at the strain on Kit's face, at his fingers slipping from their hold. Kit couldn't hold on long.

Then he saw it. One of Kit's hands came up, and down, slapping hard into the plate at the side of the door.

"Kit! No!" Hoffer lunged, but was too late.

The hatch snapped closed, stopping the maelstrom winds in an instant. Hoffer slammed against the hatch, his shouts unheard as the torrent continued outside.

Nathanial Kitridge Ozymandius Markham closed his eyes as he was pulled away from the shuttle, taken along with the rest of the atmosphere still remaining within the shuttle bay. As the darkness and cold closed in, he opened his eyes and let out one, final anguished cry.

AMY.

"The First Flight of the Nightingale"
by Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb - Engineering Consultant
Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Main Shuttlebay and Interior of the USS Nightingale
Stardate: 57908.20, 04h38

***

Vijay dipped his head and hurriedly began his physical preflight inspection of the Nightingale's exterior surfaces. It was the first time he'd actually seen the runabout without her photonic mask.

A curious sight to be sure. Her charcoal gray skin obscured only by an occasional bump or blister abnormal to this vessel class. The ensign could tell as he further verified her structural integrity that the runabout was a highly modified ship with slight variances here and there; but they were subtle and very well hidden within the typical lines of this particular ship.

After circling the runabout twice checking for anything obvious, Sanat went inside and brought all three computers on line for systems checks on the 'Gale. He ran through the most important checks first and then sat there pondering how to open the doors remotely without directly interfacing with any of the Sulu's computer system(s).

Zareb's heavy steps sounded in the aft compartment just seconds before he came into the cockpit. The large man did not need to duck in the runabout but his baldhead came so brushingly close to the ceiling, he stooped out of habit.

"Mister Farrell is going to attempt to solve our safety door problem," Zareb said absently, settling into one of the seats near Vijay. He began running his fingers over the LCARs interface expertly, running his engineering systems check and starting the environmental systems. Sanat heard the runabout door hissing shut.

He nodded. "Yessir." The ensign flight controller tapped a few more controls before commenting, "'Commander, both warp and impulse engines are offline currently."

"Thank you, Mister Vijay," Zareb offered, a little wearily as if the half-Vulcan had pointed out the obvious. "Run preliminary checks on maneuvering thrusters."

"Aye." Vijay's hands danced over the control panel as he initiated manifold pressure checks, maneuvering synchronization presets, and a plethora of system integrity tests necessary for adequate use of these critical positioning jets. He could not do much more with the Nightingale's emergency power reserves; to do more meant less power for life support or computer system functions.

There was a noise then, faint to Zareb but quite clear to Sanat. It was the very slightest sound of metal warping for a half second, then finding its shape again. Both men looked up at the cockpit ceiling. The sound hadn't come from the Nightingale.

His head jerked slightly towards the contorted screeches. Sanat turned to Zareb. "Did you hear that?"

"The upper deck just lost atmosphere," Jabari said. He began punching keys in front of him and looked down at his screen. "This is as good as we're going to get." Zareb hit his communicator, hoping it would work. "Commander Zareb to Ensign Farrell."

"Farrell h--" the comlink skritzed out and back in. "We'll be placing the -- uttlebay under your con -- in about fi -- utes."

"Have Crewman Pierce disengage the artificial gravity if he is able," Zareb said clearly and a little loudly. "I tried contacting him during my visual check with no success."

There was static, then Crewman Pierce's voice came through. "It looks like Ops' little trick worked, sir. I can't talk to anyone outside the bay, but we've got internals. What are your orders, sir?"

"Disengage the gravity in the Main Shuttlebay," Zareb said calmly, as if he were placing an order in the Officer's Mess. "And open the safety doors on my mark." Zareb tapped his badge and then turned to Sanat. "Prepare to disengage moorings, Mister Vijay."

"Aye, sir, ready to disengage moorings."

Zareb tapped his badge again. "Commander Zareb to Crewman Pierce."

"Aye, sir?"

"Open safety doors, please." Both officers looked at them and waited.

There was a long enough pause for both the Commander and Ensign to doubt Ensign Farrell's plan and Zareb's hand was halfway to his communicator when the doors began to part. The air in the main shuttlebay rushed for the vacuum of space, carrying with it small clouds of debris that had been unseen to the humanoid eye. Sanat imagined he could feel the tug on the Nightingale and looked at Zareb expectantly.

"One moment, Mister Vijay," Zareb said calmly, watching the doors through transparent aluminum open far too slowly and the air rush out too quickly. Jabari used his thickly corded arms to brace himself and realized that it was now or never. "Release moorings, Ensign."

"Moorings disengaged."

The result was an immediate lurch to port and then to starboard as the shuttle reacted to the turbulent air pulling them outside. Sanat watched as both doors began to grow and their exit from inside seemed certain, however, as the artificial atmosphere disappeared into space, it took the remaining frictional forces with it...consequently, they began to drift upward as well as forward.

He could tell it was going to be tight...very tight. At the rate they were climbing versus moving forward, it was almost a sure thing they would hit the overhead door arch before clearing the Sulu. Sanat began adjusting all four upper maneuvering jets to correct their altitudinal drift before both vessels were damaged by an errant collision.

What Vijay was about to do was strictly forbidden by Starfleet's operational flight manuals; but given their current plight, he hoped that this emergency maneuver would be overlooked by the command staff given the greater good that would come from not crashing the Nightingale into the Sulu.

"Engaging upper thrusters." They started to descend, but not fast enough. Using the thrusters inside a shuttlebay was tricky at best, darn right foolhardy at worst...one miscalculation, too much of this or too much of that and...whammo! No more runabout. "Compensating for forward momentum." The door arch loomed ever closer as he kept adding thrust in tiny increments to bring them down to a position to clear the structural entity.

However, from what he could see, they were going to collide with the arch if he didn't give the maneuvering jets one good blast to force them downward. It was not the best of options. Damn.

Sanat could now read the small maintenance warning signs above the doorway; there was nothing left to do but act or die. "Thrusters to full." He braced himself for the inevitable impact looming above him when the half Vulcan officer felt the tug of the thrusters forcing them down...still, it was going to be close...too close to call.

The blackness of space first greeted them as the nose of the runabout poked outside into this inky void devoid of matter. Vijay took a slow breath and started to ease off the jets before they hit the shuttlebay deck now that they were losing upward vertical altitude. As he eased off, both officers could feel the 'Gale bump into something as they finally cleared the Sulu.

"Sorry, Sir. I seem to have scratched the paint a little." Sanat looked down at his instruments. "We're now clear of the ship, but our forward progress is taking us away at a considerable rate."

Zareb's fingers danced over his console and the Nightingale lurched to a sudden stop as if it had struck something. It took several second fractions for Sanat to realize the Engineer had engaged the rear tractor beam and locked onto the Sulu. Swiftly, the Nightingale begin to travel backwards and in the opposite direction.

"A most interesting way to disembark from a shuttlebay," Vijay said with a straight face as Zareb gathered himself to his feet. It had not been the hairiest experience of his short career, but it ranked close to the top ten.

"Turn the Nightingale to aft, disengage the tractor beam, and begin monitoring the Sulu's intership communications." Zareb starting walking towards the rear of the ship. "The minute the order comes to abandon ship, start beaming crew over randomly." He paused at the aft cockpit door as it slid open, considering a thought. "You might want to focus your initial few beam-outs to personnel in the engineering section."

Sanat turned to look directly into Jabari's eyes, "What exactly do you mean by that, 'Commander?" His tone was both sharp and questioning.

"Because I will need the help, Mister Vijay. The tractor gained us orbital momentum but if I don't get the engines on line, it won't last." Zareb motioned to the cockpit transparencies as he stepped through the door, the crippled Intrepid-class slowly coming into view as the Nightingale made her turn. "After that, we're either going to get caught in her destruction or enjoy the slow death of a decaying orbit. We're still on the clock, Mister Vijay." And with that, the door slid shut.

"Yes, 'Commander." The pilot wrinkled his lips as he considered Zareb's orders. After a few moments of careful consideration, Sanat typed in a randomized beaming algorithm that would alternate between engineers and a few friends close to him.

He was after all just following orders....

"Talking to Our Guests"
Captain Matthew T. Salinger
Commander Sam
Cadet D'alla Cox
Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Computer Core, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 04h50

***

"If they're in there, why is my ship still falling apart," Matt Salinger asked as he stood beside Commander Sam in the computer core.

"The trouble Sulu is still experiencing," Sam stated, "is because these are only holographic manifestations of their programs. There are still parts of them, spread through out the ship's computer. The representations we see on this monitor are only a part of the whole."

"They're like a virus."

Sam gave an approximation of a nod. "That is correct, Captain."

Matt sighed. "Then how do we clean this virus out of the system, before anyone else dies?"

Sam turned to where Cadet D'alla Cox sat working at one of the computer terminals. "While Ensign Gainsborough possesses a considerable amount of skill with computers, her talents lie in different areas. With Ensign Lektar incapacitated, Cadet Cox's talents appear to be sufficient for this task. We are tracing the data paths from their entry points in the holodeck and working our way back through to the other program clusters within the ship's computer."

"Thank you, Commander," Matt said, then moved past Sam to where Cadet Cox worked. "How's your progress, Mr. Cox?"

D'alla flushed a little under the Captain's attention, as most Cadets would. "It's slow, sir," she managed, nodding towards the monitor in front of her. On it was displayed small glittering points of light representing various identified data bits of the intruders in the Sulu systems. They reflected dimly on her green skin. "When the data entered the holodeck, it fragmented and went everywhere. The bits are manipulating some program data, deleting others, and just moving some around with it through the system." She turned her neck to peer up at the Captain. "There are thousands of individual data clusters.

"There are actually seven--"

"That's alright, Commander," Matt said, quickly putting a hand on the android's shoulder. "An exact count is not necessary."

"Certainly, sir."

"Keep working, Cadet," the captain said. "We'll get to the end of this soon enough."

"Aye, sir," Cox said, swallowing hard. She looked back to her monitor.

Turning away from the cadet's work, Matt faced the room in general, particularly Commander T'Kal. "Before I have a chat with our guests, what do we know so far?"

"They are sentient, and they are confused, Captain. They appear to be trying to be cooperative and had no idea the trouble they are causing. We brought them here, sir; they are not hostile as far as they present themselves. We are trying to construct a virus killer to erase their presence from the systems as per Commander Lyrr's orders, and are almost there." It was plain by the reluctance in his tone that it was a last resort for Benedict. "They are trying to cooperate, sir, and they are able to communicate now, thanks to the translation data we received from the Mallory."

"Good," Matt said. "Now, do you have a plan for what we should do with them? It's obvious you don't agree with Commander Lyrr's plan; have you generated one of your own, Commander?"

"Commander Lyrr's plan is a last resort, sir - killing them when they may be the sole surviving entities from an entire civilisation...." Benedict searched the Captain's eyes to see how he stood with that. No matter what his personal views, Benedict would still follow orders and if killing them was the only solution then he'd do it. "They can exist within a computer system - if we could move them into a portable system - such as a holomatrix. They want to cooperate - we could recreate their home environment and preserve their brain engrams."

Matt grinned. "A Moriarity Matrix," he said, then nodded. "Have Lieutenant Thaine and Lieutenant Flummux begin work on it immediately. If you can spare Cadet Cox when she's done there, her holo-engineering experience may be helpful as well...and working with Thaine and Flummux would be good experience as well. If we can get them transferred, and they'll go peacefully, I think that will be our best option."

Benedict grinned, relief plain. "Yes, sir. I'm sure they will be willing. We have to find a way to get them completely into the Matrix." He looked at Sam. "We are herding them - or the separate pieces of them toward the holodeck system. We're encapsulating each system with encryption shells to lock them out."

"Unless something unforeseen happens," Sam said, "we should be able to contain them within a...Moriarity Matrix. From there, it would be possible to return them to the planet's surface. While their own species will never populate the planet again, it is theoretically possible for another species to colonize it."

Salinger looked at them both, then nodded. "And, now long do you suppose this should take?"

"If everything proceeds according to the plan we have devised, this process should be complete within two hours seventeen minutes--"

"Good enough, Sam," Matt said with an upraised hand. He turned to T'Kal. "Do you foresee any difficulties with shipboard security during this process?"

"The ship's systems are still failing, sir - I can't estimate the risk. We have dislocated the weapons systems from the main system to prevent accidental discharges. Security is on full alert. We are now at geosynchronous orbit instead of station-keeping, so our inertia is zero. The first systems safeguarded were life support, structural integrity fields and the warp core. We are in no danger of a breach and power systems seem to be safe now also. We have yet to secure gravity and external egress, each has to be done separately, deck by deck."

"With the self-destruct in place, we need to communicate with our friends inside and get control of the ship back," Matt said. He checked his chronometer and shook his head. "And, time's running out. Well, I guess we'd better get talking. Would you care to introduce me to your new friends, Commander?"

Benedict nodded, "Certainly, sir." He tapped out a simple command and the screen once again showed the three beings standing in the holodeck surrounds of the Bajoran scenery. "Makesh of Sariel's Ke'ay I would like to introduce Captain Matthew Salinger." This time, thanks to the translation from the Mallory, they could converse audibly.

"We greet you, Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger," Makesh said, then bowed gracefully in his photonic body. "Our most sincere apologies for our inadvertent interference in the operation of your ship from the stars. Our...transcendence into this state was unforeseen, and we are still getting used to...what we are able to accomplish."

"You've accomplished quite a bit," Matt said, "but hopefully with your assistance, we can undo the troubles. Are you able to assist us? Your actions have caused a very serious problem, and if it is not corrected this ship will self-destruct in less than an hour. Our overrides are insufficient to stop the sequence."

When he'd arrived in sickbay, Lyrr was unconscious and unresponsive. Dr. Sefton had tried to rouse her, to allow Lyrr to assist in deactivating the self-destruct. Whatever had transpired in the Jefferies Tube where Ensign Finn had found her, it had taken Lyrr out of this battle. Matt didn't want to despair, but a part of him couldn't help thinking that it had also removed the chance of saving the ship.

There was an option however, and with haste, Matt had made his way to the computer core when Commander Sam was working on the problem.

"Computer," Matt had said upon his arrival in the Core, "recognize Lieutenant Commander Sam as Acting First Officer during Commander Lyrr Tayla's incapacitation."

Benedict had looked sharply to Salinger - the captain's words echoing in his head like something unreal. What had happened to Lyrr? Incapacitated? He wanted to ask right then, but now wasn't the time. It took immense self-control to not show a reaction to the sudden dryness in his mouth and increased heart rate.

"Lieutenant Commander Sam is recognized as Acting First Officer," the computer said in response to the captain.

"Computer, deactivate self-destruct. Authorization Salinger-alpha- alpha-nine."

"Does the Acting First Officer concur?"

"The Acting First Officer concurs," Sam stated. "Authorization Sam- tango-theta-sigma-three."

"Cannot comply."

It had required great restraint to keep the captain from putting his fist through one of the displays.

Twenty minutes later, it finally looked like they were finally getting closer to a solution. Now, if everything would go according to plan...

"While we have gained some familiarity with the workings of your ship of the stars, such operations are not yet intimately familiar to us. But, we will assist however we are able."

"Good," Matt said with a smile. "I hope that once this crisis is abated, we can learn more of your people, so that the stories of your world do not die out and pass out of memory."

Makesh bowed. "We thank you for that, Captain Matthew Salinger."

"We have some ideas for allowing you to exist outside of the computer system of our ship, and to possibly be able to return you to your world. There is much we would like to learn from you, and much we can share with you. Commanders T'Kal and Sam can work in conjunction with you to restore our ship's systems."

Benedict nodded to the captain. Listening to what was said, it seemed to Benedict that things would be resolved quickly and easily. It was a relief in one way - but his mind was consumed with worry for Lyrr Tayla. To have Salinger pass over command codes and authority to Sam meant that she was not able to talk. If she couldn't talk to shut down the self-destruct it meant she was in a bad way. The worry lines around Salinger's eyes and the clipped manner of his words betrayed that he too was worried - but more for his ship than his XO. Benedict knew that he had to stay at his station - do his duty, ignore his feelings and the rising need to just ask Salinger what had happened. Time seemed to have slowed, and he felt like his body was acting by itself - doing its duty, while his mind kept playing Salinger's words over and over.

The aliens were friendly and everything was going to be okay - except for the damned virus. He summoned every ounce of control he had just to return his mind to the task at hand. "Do you know anything about the virus?" he asked the aliens. "Some of our crew are dying, they can no longer breathe and require critical medical care."

"Our efforts were a means to stave off the virus, to prolong our own existence until after the threat had passed, and then we could have reemerged onto our world and begin rebuilding."

"We found traces of the virus in your bodies," Matt said.

Makesh's eyes fell and he nodded. "We were too late then. But...but with your help, perhaps we can rebuild...after a fashion."

Matt chuckled. "After a fashion. What we need now is to coordinate our efforts to fix the problems on the ship. I'd like for you to work with my second officer, Commander Sam, to reverse the damage--"

Suddenly, one of the three in the holodeck, the other male, screamed. With wild, unseeing eyes, he searched about, seeming to look without looking. "What have you done," he shouted. "What are you doing?"

Makesh raked an angry glare around the holodeck. "Why do you attack us, Captain Matthew Salinger? Why, now, do you attack us?"

Benedict looked at the terminals he was working with - the encryption shell that they had erected around the holodeck systems to allow the aliens access but stabilize the systems against disruption had changed. The graphic representation showed a solid shell - fractal encryption in a solid wall. It had come down around holodeck four like a bastion. For a moment Benedict was stunned. He looked helplessly at Sam - he hadn't done this...had Sam? The image or representation of Makesh had been steadily moving into the holodeck shell from the start - he was more fully enclosed within the holodeck and so he was less affected by the code wall.

The female crumpled to a heap in the middle of the floor, and then disappeared.

"Siresh," Makesh called and rushed to where she had been.

"We are not trying to harm you," Salinger said. trying to remain calm. "Our people are trying to stop the problems on the ship. They did not intend to harm you, to attack you. After everything that's happened, surely you must understand that."

Makesh looked up, a war of emotions being waged behind his holographic eyes. "I understand," he said, his voice a cold rasp. "My apologies, Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger."

"Makesh," Matt said, "give me a moment to figure this out, to find out what's happening so we can fix it. We will make things right for you."

Makesh stared hard to where the image of Matt was, then nodded. "We will give you the time, Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger. It is all we can do now that you have trapped us here."

The other glared and shot an angry look to Makesh, who didn't seem bothered...only angry, desperate.

As Matt turned away to begin asking questions, the comm chirped. "Farrell to Salinger," came the Ops ensign's voice.

Matt raised an eyebrow. Very interesting, he thought as he turned to the comm board.

"Lies of Omission"
by Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist
Petty Officer 3rd Class Fiona Sullivan [NPC] Weapons Specialist
Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
and Ensign Newton Hoffer [NPC] - Engineering Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Corridor
Stardate 57908.20, 04h50

***

A figure in EVA forced the frozen doors of the Jefferies Tube open with one arm as it pulled itself out onto the deck with the other. Ensign Corrigan had taken one group down a deck while Case and Sullivan had seen to the evacuations of the wounded up to Deck Five through the narrow tubes. Leaving Sullivan to see them to Sickbay, Case had gone down into the dim again to search for stragglers and more wounded and had barely gotten into an EVA when Deck Six lost all life support.

The helmet hissed as it came off the Betazoid's head and Case began to struggle out of the suit. Sullivan came at a jog around the corridor corner, intending to go down again and bumped into him hard.

"Don't," Case warned, steadying her by the shoulder and pulling off a glove with clenched teeth. He spit it onto the deck. "Life support is out...the air is going fast...if anyone is still down there and they're not in an EVA, they're already dead."

Sullivan swallowed hard, her eyes red-rimmed but she was nodding. "What would you have me do, Chief?"

"Locate some help, get in your EVAs, get back down there, and grab all the phasers you can carry. We'll set up a makeshift armory in the sensor system alcove." Case was stepping out of the white environment suit. "Mullens is on this deck somewhere..."

Sullivan blinked once, a little mystified and obviously scared. "I don't understand, Chief. We're set to destruct. Why do we need to set up --"

"Because it's our job," Case reminded her tersely. The words put tears in the eyes of the tough woman and at the sight of them, Sorien's face softened. "Fiona, if they can get the escape pods reliably operational, the crew will need to check out weapons before ejection. And if this is just some grand manipulation by some dead intelligence from down below, then we need to be ready for whatever manipulation is coming next. We need to do our jobs, okay?"

She dropped one tear, steeled her expression, and nodded. "I'll get on it, Chief. Where can I find you?"

"Sickbay," he said, already heading that way. "I have to check on someone."

***

The splashes of drying blood were indistinguishable from the black of her uniform jacket, granting Amy the illusion that all she'd witnessed during this disaster was nothing more than one of the medical simulations they'd trained with at the Academy. So many injured and dying, yet Amy felt extreme pride and accomplishment in saving her first near-dead patient. Along with it was exhaustion and numbing fear. The count was running down and the ship was falling apart, yet they were all still within it. Would her efforts be in vain if all those she'd mended simply went up with the ship? She sucked back a sob and quickened her pace to sickbay.

There was no time to cower, not even time to think about Kit, Kelli, and Tchi; fresh supplies were needed and she was tasked with the errand. She would not fail Cris and Raina, and those patients relying on the medicine she meant to collect. All that, however, was banished from her mind as, in the darkness, a figure in black, tall and strong and striding towards her, appeared.

An elated smile touched her lips as the flashing red alert beacons illuminated his face. With a gasp, she ran to him and unconsciously flung her arms around him. "You're alive!"

Case returned the hug and the smile, wrapping her up tightly in his muscled arms. "And I can say the same for you, thankfully. I was worried."

Her twinkling eyes stared up at him, and were tinged with uncertainty. "You were? Really? About me?"

Case cupped her cheek. "Of course," he said gently. His eyes went around the corridor briefly before settling back on hers. "You are evacuating?"

Amy shook her head. "Just the injured. W-We're on patrol. That's our duty."

"If they can't stop the autodestruct, the order to evacuate will come," Case warned. "You need to ready for it...a lot of the pods are still malfunctioning and if you're one of the last to go, you won't make it."

Amy trembled and felt a lump growing in her throat. "I-I can't leave," she whispered fearfully.

He pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Do your duty, no more. Don't volunteer for anything. Get out when you can." Case looked back into her eyes and she felt that pull that was becoming all too familiar. "I may not have the same luxury, Amy. Oblivion will be a little easier to bear if I know you're okay."

Amy's heart fluttered in her chest and, sighing dreamily, she felt her face drifting towards his. "I won't take any risks," she whispered, her eyes already closing.

The ship fell into preternatural silence behind her eyelids but Case's lips did not meet hers in spite of several spent heartbeats. Opened eyes found the scarred Betazoid regarding not her but something just over her shoulder. She turned to look.

There was only a young ensign in black and gold, unremarkable save for a frightful tremble, and a look of horror that represented a galaxy upended.

Hoff's eyes narrowed as he took in what appeared to be transpiring between the two before him. He pursed his lips and nodded as he started forward. "Nurse Reese," he began. "My name is Ensign Newton Hoffer...it's...it's about--"

"Sir," Case interrupted, letting go of the nurse. He had been on both ends of that look and he knew there was something bad behind it. "Can I have a word, please?" he asked, as non-chalantly as he could manage.

"This is extremely important," he said, not taking his eyes off Amy Reese. "I hope it won't be long, Chief."

"It won't, sir," Case said, clasping the young officer's shoulder gently as he gestured towards the corridor. Sorien gave Amy a reassuring look over his shoulder as both men walked down the corridor out of earshot.

All Amy could decipher from the conversation were their mannerisms - Case's well-muscled frame nearly obscuring the smaller Hoffer, who alternately looked over Case's shoulder at her, then back to the man almost warily. Whatever Case was saying, Hoffer listened to intently. At one point he sucked in a breath abruptly, piqued by something Case had said, but the chief held up a hand to quickly silence Hoffer's protest. By the man's tight-lipped expression and hard gaze, Amy detected contempt and displeasure, but he acquiesced. Next, he was stalking down the corridor, though not without casting one last look in her direction that spoke of an almost overwhelming desire to speak to her, but in another instant, he was gone.

"Case?" Amy's apprehensive, small voice came from behind him, and when he turned, she was wringing her hands nervously. "What's wrong?"

Sorien attempted to give her a reassuring smile. "I'll tell you later," he said in a gentle voice.

Amy nodded uncertainly, glancing past Case to where Hoffer had disappeared. "I-I have to get going," she told him, but her pining gaze clearly stated she'd rather stay with him.

"You'll be okay," Case assured her, taking her hand. "As soon as the order comes, plant yourself in an escape pod. Don't be a hero." He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and let the hand drop. He began to walk down the corridor.

Case tapped his combadge. "Chief Case to Petty --" No answering chirp forced a second tap. And a third one. "Chief Case to Petty Officer Sullivan."

"Sulli.....ere," came the fizzling reply. "Go ahe..."

"Sullivan," Sorien said clearly, hoping she could hear. "Continue relocating the armory. I'll be with you as soon as I can."

"Aye Chief," came in clearly. "I've got Mullens and Rinaro and we're getting ready to suit up."

Case jammed a fist down a release switch, opening up access to a Jefferies Tube. "I'll be back up here as soon as I can," he said, climbing inside the tube. "If you need me, I'll be on Deck Nine."

"What's down there, Chief?" Sullivan asked.

"Shuttlebay," Case answered, as the hatch hissed shut.

�Getting Ready�
by Ensign Marp

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 04h50

***

After concluding a Monopoly game with Crewman Smith, Marp decided that he would not be sleeping tonight and crawled though a Jefferies tube to the main shuttle bay. He began working on the shuttles to make sure that they were prepped should they be needed.

Marp carefully went over the shuttle systems. It appeared that the Sulu was about to self-destruct. He wanted to make sure that when the time came to abandon ship he would have the shuttle ready. The curse of Marp strikes again, thought Marp. Just when things start going good for him everything starts to unravel.

"Typical dumb luck," said Marp as he switched on the backup computer and ran it though several tests. Satisfied, he put it back in standby and moved to the next item on his checklist. Marp thought about the Sulu, she was a beautiful ship; he had looked forward to exploring the Gamma Quadrant with her.

Marp was pulled from his thought by the sounding of an alarm and then came the orders that everyone was waiting for. �Abandon ship�. Here we go, thought Marp as he opened the shuttle hatch. He would take as many people as he could get on the shuttle before he left. As crewmembers began to board the shuttle Marp ran the shuttle through pre-launch and then waited. He would wait until the last possible moment before heading to the planet.

"Calling It"
By: Captain Matthew Salinger
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Roades Mouazer; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 04h56

***

There was silence from the other end.

"Talk to me, Ops," Farrell called.

"It looks like it worked. Several systems went back on line automatically when we locked off the holodeck, though the autodestruct's still running. But it definitely looks good to T'rii," Mouse replied.

"Thank you, Ops. Farrell out. Well," Farrell said to Espinoza, "let's call this in. Farrell to Salinger," he called into the commrig.

"Salinger here," came the reply. In the background, other voices could be heard. Panicked voices. "What is it, Mr. Farrell?"

"Sir, we've isolated one of the entities in holodeck four. The fractal walling ought to hold up for as long as we do, but I can't guarantee it. What do you want us to do with it, sir?"

"We were just trying to talk to them," Matt answered. "All three were in there...though they're a little perturbed at the moment. Have you ever whacked a hornet's nest with a stick, Mr. Farrell?"

Farrell smiled ruefully at the humor even as he closed his eyes as his mind whirled through the most likely scenarios. "Your orders, sir?" he asked, glancing at Espinoza, who gave Farrell a quizzical look.

"The entities in the holodeck are in some kind of frenzy," the captain said. "Is it possible for you, in any way, to undo what you've done?"

"Yes, sir, but I'd counsel against it. With the holodeck cut off, systems are already coming back on-line. If these things are agitated, what happens if we cut them loose?" Espinoza's mouth gaped. Farrell frowned and waved to him to look somewhere else.

"We were in the process of talking them down, getting them to cooperate. It's possible we can still do that...provided we don't antagonize them further."

"Sir, before bringing the wall down may I suggest that we use this opportunity to at least clear the e-pods for use, and get all personnel not directly involved with these entities off the ship?"

"Do what you can on the escape pods," Salinger said. "But ease things up to ease their minds, before the situation grows beyond anything we're able to control. I would prefer, Mr. Farrell, to not have to eradicate the consciousnesses of the last remaining inhabitants of this planet."

"Sir, give me ten minutes, and I think we can clear the pods and get people off the ship. If we drop the wall before that, all bets are off." Farrell kept his voice neutral, all business. "Shall I proceed with the pods and evacuation, sir?"

"Move the sick and injured into place," Salinger said. "All others should remain at their duty stations until any evacuation orders are given. You have five minutes, Mr. Farrell. Under the circumstances, it's the best I can do."

"Yes, sir," Farrell said, for there was nothing else that could be said. "I'll bring down the wall in five minutes. Anything else, sir?"

"Nothing else, Mr. Farrell," the captain said. "Five minutes. And, if you can throw up any more of these barriers you've constructed around the escape pod systems in that time, do so for when the wall comes down. Salinger out."

Farrell looked to Espinoza. "Crunch time," he said. Espinoza looked bleak. "Farrell to Ops."

"Ensign Mouazer here, go ahead."

"We have a five minute window before the wall on holodeck four has to come down. Captain's orders. Tell T'rii she's got those five minutes to clear as many decks worth of escape pods as she can. Wall 'em off so they don't fail when we free up the holodeck. We've got to get 'em reliable or we're probably all gonna die. Got it?"

On the other side, Mouse swallowed hesitantly knowing full well the truth behind Farrell's words. "Got it," Mouse reassured him in reply.

"Farrell out," he said, handing the commset back to Espinoza. "Okay," he said, as the cook put the headset back on. "Drop down to deck five and make sure Sickbay's moving for the pods. They probably already are, but make sure, and let the rest of us know."

"Okay," Espinoza nodded. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going further down to keep keying escape pods. Stay on deck five so that Sefton's got reliable communication. And Luis?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry I snapped at you," Farrell said quietly.

Espinoza shrugged. "Crazy times, cabron."

"All the same, I'm sorry. And just in case," Farrell said, putting out his hand rather than finishing the sentence. Espinoza took it, and they nodded at each other.

"Alright," Mason said, the moment over. "Let's do what we can while we can."

"Getting Down to the Wire"
by Captain Matthew T. Salinger
Lt. Commander Sam
and Ensign Rachel Hansen

Location: Computer Core & Main Engineering, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 04h58

***

Mere seconds had passed since the connection to Mason Farrell had been severed. There was a pop and hiss, followed by the smell of burnt ODN conduits.

"Salinger to the bridge."

The call was met with silence.

"Salinger to engineering."

More silence. The captain turned to the others and frowned.

"It would appear," Sam intoned, "that internal communications has gone down again, sir."

"Yes, it would appear so," Matt said. "Cadet Cox, go to the bridge for a status report. We're running out of time."

He checked the chronometer at his wrist and turned back to the viewer that showed him the holodeck.

"Makesh," he said, "we are working to release the hold we have around the holodeck. But, with the system malfunctions, we have injured people we need to get to safety first. I must see to the safety of my crew."

Makesh glowered. "But not to the welfare of those you've trapped aboard your foul starship, Captain Matthew Salinger?"

"I do sincerely apologize for that, but it was your actions here that have caused the trouble." He took a step forward. "All I ask is for a couple more minutes to get my people to safe positions."

"You have your minutes, Captain," Makesh said, "but take care. Vashek is in a rage over this, and will not react kindly if kept here too long."

"I understand," Matt said. "We will hurry." He looked at the young holographic being, the consciousness of all that remained of one of the three survivors of all that existed of the planet below, huddled over the body of Siresh.

He severed the connection and looked at the chronometer again. It was taking too long.

***

Red flashing.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw it. At first, she just put it down to the standard red alert. But a second later, it struck her: there isn't a red alert indicator on that panel.

Rachel Hansen swiveled in her seat, pushing her hair back from her eyes. She ran a quick diagnostic to make sure the equipment wasn't functioning.

"Oh gods," she whispered. "Oh gods no. Not now."

Rachel spun away from her station and bolted toward where the warp core rose up through the deck. It was roiling and alarm lights were starting to appear there as well.

She slapped at a panel on her way past. The lights dimmed briefly, but no klaxon started. She stopped and stared at it, holding down her panic with effort.

"Core breach," she cried out as loud as her lungs could manage.

Lt. Thaine rushed over and she explained the situation quickly. Containment fields were failing on the warp core, and estimates indicated less than five minutes before it would fail completely. Once that happened, the warp core would breach. Chances were slim that, in a situation like this, the containment fields could be stabilized and the disaster averted...but under the circumstances, chances were slim.

"Everything was fine one moment, then lights were flashing and systems were failing. With comms out, the bridge should know."

"Agreed," Thaine said, before giving her leave to run the alert to the bridge. "We'll try to lock it down from here."

With that, she rushed out of engineering.

***

News traveled quickly enough, and soon the impending containment field failure and core breach reached the computer core.

Sam was actively trying to open the systems back up for Makesh, and with the help of the aliens was slowly succeeding. Once Farrell's barrier came down, things became much easier. There was, however, still much to do.

When the runner from the bridge relayed the news, they nodded understanding. It was only a matter of time.

"Can you complete this in time, Sam?"

The android looked up, running the computations through his positronic net. "Uncertain, sir."

Matt nodded. "Very well," he said. He reached forward and tapped out a sequence into the computer console. An alarm sounded, one that every officer aboard a Starship dreaded: Abandon Ship. He opened a channel. "All hands, this is the captain. Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship. Make for the planet, and assemble in the main city. This...this is not a drill. Abandon ship."

With communications nearly non-functional, he wasn't certain who would hear it and who wouldn't. He looked to the crewman standing in the doorway and nodded. "Spread the word to those who couldn't hear it, and then get yourself to a pod."

Matt glanced between Sam and T'Kal, each giving him worried-yet- determined looks. Matt gave them a half-smile and then a resolute nod. "Let's hope that was in vain," he said. "Status report, Mr. Sam?"

"Shadows of Anubis"
by Ensign Newton Hoffer

Location: Upper Shuttlebay, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20 05h00

***

Newton Hoffer returned to the shuttlebay where the accident with Kit had happened. Poor Kit, he thought and glanced back in the direction where Sickbay lay. Gravity and life support had come back quick enough, and the bay doors had sealed before the Mallory had slipped out into space. As he crossed the distance to the small shuttle, he found himself wishing he'd donned an EVA suit, just in case.

The shuttle was dark when he stepped inside, in power saving mode since it may not be long before all their power was needed for other tasks.

"How'd it go?" asked a weak voice from one of the acceleration couches.

"Ask me later," Hoff replied.

"There may not be a later," came the answer. "Almost wasn't."

"There will be," Hoffer said, turning to the shadow seated on the couch. "Fate isn't vicious enough to give a second chance and then just take it away."

There was a sigh in the darkness. "Maybe not, but with everything happening, who knows."

Newton shook his head and turned to the control board. Something to occupy his mind and avoid the questions. "It's better you don't know."

"Is she hurt?"

"No."

"What is it, Hoff? Dammit, don't close down on me. What happened?"

"Chief Case intercepted for her," Hoffer answered. "I didn't actually get to tell her, but he said he would later. He was very protective of her feelings. He felt that bad news would force her to lose focus and be unable to fulfill her duties to the ship."

There was a long moment of silence.

Finally, a hoarse whisper shattered the eerie quiet. "And?"

"I can't do this now," Hoffer answered. "I have to get back to work, alright? Will you just let me work and stop pestering me?"

"I'll think about it," was the reply, then: "If you tell me something I want to know, that will go a long way to easing my pestering."

Hoffer sighed. "Go haunt someone else?"

"Oh, Hoff, you wound me. Stop holding out on me, or it'll only cause more pain and suffering later."

Hoffer spun around, catching the glint of light in the darkness, a blinking of tired eyes. He felt his resolve weaken. How could he hold out like this? How could he not say something when doing so would only make the situation worse in the end? If he told, that would be one less burden for him to carry...and possibly would help free the pained look in the eyes staring back at him.

"Alright," he answered, his own voice tired. "Alright...when I got to sickbay, she was there...and so was Case."

"Go ahead."

"Isn't it better if we--"

"No, it's not." The voice was brittle and cold. Then, plaintive: "Please..."

"They were close...almost too close. Her eyes were closed, her face lifted to his. And, then he turned to look at me... Nothing happened, but...but if I hadn't...they would have...they were..."

There was resignation in the voice when it spoke again, a hollowness that not even exposure to the cold of empty space could take away. "Thanks, Hoff. It's hard to tell someone things you think it'd be best if they don't hear...like this. I guess...I guess it just wasn't enough."

"What wasn't?"

"My love. The promise of eternity together. A home on Alpha Centauri. I thought things were turning around, going well. More the fool I."

Hoffer stepped closer. "Is it really that bad?"

"My back was turned? My body cast out into the depths of space. And...there she is. It's that bad. It's worse." The shadow moved, drifting closer. Features formed in the darkness, but the most striking was the depth of sadness in the eyes.

"What are you going to do, Kit?"

Kit Markham looked back and shrugged. "I'll figure something out."

While the heart may have still been beating within his chest, a part of him couldn't help wondering if it would have been better to have just expired in the cold, dark emptiness of space. He couldn't fault Hoffer for using the shuttle's transporter to save him. He couldn't fault anyone...except himself.

As he crossed the shuttlebay, legs still trembling beneath him, his anguished thoughts beat against his defenses, wearing him down. He would find a way to go on, if the Sulu survived this. He would find a way to keep living, even though he was losing his hold on her. But, how could a man hold on to a woman who wished to be held by another?

Amy...

"Out of Nowhere"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Elissa Skylark; Science Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Deck Seven
Stardate: 57908.20 04h59

***

The Jeffries tubes were largely clear by now. People had been at their stations for some time, and were hunkered down against the intermittent "detonation in--" messages the computer kept spouting.

Farrell slid out of the tube onto deck seven. Deck six had been interesting. The tube had sealed itself into a force-shielded column for the duration of the deck, as the rest of the area had been voided to space. Farrell had had to freefall for an entire deck, and nearly wrenched his arms off catching himself at seven. Now he stood and checked the nearest chronometer. 0500. Four minutes. T'rii would be bringing the walls down on holodeck four any time now.

The corridor was deserted, Farrell watching the chrono, a slow count running in his head. He winced as it shifted to read 0501.

Nothing happened. Farrell exhaled and turned down the corridor toward the starboard bank of escape pods. There was still time.

And the world went blinding. All corridor lights came on at maximum intensity, turning the pulsing glow of the red alert an antiseptic, washed-out white. Farrell swore and clapped a hand to his eyes, stumbling into the wall. He heard a pop from down the corridor, and squinted that direction. Another pop, and Farrell's eyes widened as he recognized the sound. Overloaded circuitry.

He turned to run, but it was too late. The light panels, computer wall consoles, red alert lightstripping, everything in the corridor with a circuit exploded under the extreme current in a cascade of fragments and sparks. Mason threw his arms over his head and bellowed as a thousand flares of pain bit into him. He sank to his knees and felt his shoulder hit the floor, his entire body shrieking at him to cover up. Then the world went black, and his vision went with it.

"Wake up!" the woman shouted. He heard the shout, and felt the slap against his cheek, wet and loud.

"Wha--" he sputtered awake. His eye stung, and he blinked at it, seeing the tiny porthole. "The Pods," he breathed, looking past the woman. They were in a pod, but the hatch was still open to the corridor. They hadn't ejected yet.

"Right," said the slender blue-collared officer, fumbling in the medkit. She was trying not to look at him. Apparently he looked that bad. "Are you badly hurt? Where is it worst?"

Farrell thought on that. His whole body stung. He lifted a hand to try and clear his burning eye, and found it didn't help. His hands were torn and pocked with shards of glass and conduit piping. His entire body was. He looked absently down at himself. "Where is it worst?" he chuckled. "Ooh. It's worst when I laugh."

The woman smiled in spite of herself. "Elissa Skylark," she said, apparently unable to think of anything else to say at that moment.

"Mason Farrell," he half-whispered, leaning his head against the side of the escape pod. "Pleased to meet you. You'll forgive me if I don't try and shake your hand," he smiled, but it turned into a wince.

"No, I think I'd rather hold it against you to try and distract you from the realization that I'm not actually a medical officer," she said, shrugging out of her uniform jacket.

"Ma'am, I barely know you," Farrell protested facetiously, but feebly. "You're not a medical officer?"

"Science. And I have heard plenty about you, Mister Farrell," Skylark retorted with humor. She commenced using a sleeve of her jacket to start wiping blood from his face, picking out shards as she went.

"I hope it was something good," Farrell mumbled, grimacing as she dislodged a largish piece from his shoulder.

"My lips are sealed," she said casually.

They sat in silence for a moment, her picking at him, and him trying to take stock of himself. He could at least still feel all his limbs. That was something.

"How much time do we have?" he asked.

"About--"

"Autodestruct Sequence Active. Ten minutes to detonation."

"What she said," Skylark finished.

"Slip of latinum for your thoughts?" he asked as she worked.

Skylark looked thoughtful. "Just thinking I'm not sure I want to pull that lever." She nodded at the red evacuation lever next to the hatch.

Farrell pondered that, wincing as another fragment came loose.

"No sense surrendering," he said, looking away from her, out the porthole. Startled, he flopped himself closer and looked intent.

"What is it?" Skylark asked.

"The pods," Farrell said quietly. "T'rii did it. They're punching out all over the ship. Look."

Skylark carefully edged past him, and looked. Sure enough, a wave of tiny grey boxes, the escape pods, were leaving the ship.

"This is the Bridge," came Frazier's dulcet voice over the com then. "All hands, abandon ship. Seek the nearest escape pod or shuttle. I say again. All hands, abandon ship. Seek the nearest escape pod or shuttle. This is the bridge, signing off."

Farrell and Skylark looked at each other. She apparently decided they were too close, and backed away. His blood left a dark pattern on her blue undertunic.

"Well, I guess that's it, then," she said. Farrell situated himself firmly on the floor of the pod, and she cycled the hatch and pulled the lever.

Nothing happened.

Both officers looked at each other, and exhaled deeply.

"I guess that's it, then," he said, closing his eyes. "I never thought it'd end like this."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like your sentiments have flopped." Shaking her head, Elissa turned to face the pod entrance. "The unflappable Mason Farrell." She keyed the door to the pod, and stepped through before it had completely opened.

"What do you mean, flop?" he frowned.

Elissa stopped to look over her shoulder. "No real point in surrender, now is there?"

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Farrell smiled and mumbled, "Got beat by a girl," as he struggled to rise.

"Maybe you should wait here."

"I'll get up fine," he waved her off. "Crack into the nearest EV locker and fire up the suitcom. We can beam off."

She nodded, and disappeared from view. When Farrell finally caught up to the locker, he rested himself against the wall. She hadn't outfitted herself yet. "You didn't leave us with much time," she said coldly, setting the helmet aside and holding up the suit. "I'll help you get this on. Hurry."

"We don't need the suit," he reached out. "Just turn on the comunit and give me the headset."

"Why?"

"If we're lucky, the shuttles have gotten clear and are standing by to do beamouts on people who didn't make pods."

Skylark said nothing more, and handed him the headset. He listened for the chirp of its activation, and made the call.

"Farrell to Nightingale."

Static. Farrell stifled a curse, and reached for the comrig, dialing to a different frequency.

"Farrell to Nightingale. Dammit Vijay, where are you?"

***

The voice sounded familiar, but badly fragmented and broken up. He pressed a key on his console, "This is the Nightingale. Please say again."

"--ijay, this is Farrell. I have two to b--" The com gave a screech, and then was clearer. "I say again, two to beam out. Copy?"

Sanat checked the emergency power readings. He had enough power for one more beam-out, and only had a positive ID on one of the two people Mason was discussing. He could beam over that signal, but not the other...at least not for a few more minutes while Zareb and Ito worked to restore auxiliary or main power...whichever came first.

"I copy, Farrell. However, we only have a lock for one presently. Copy?"

There was a pause.

"Which one?" came the reply.

He felt a lump grow in his throat. Sanat pressed the button once more, "Ensign Skylark."

Another pause, then, "Do it."

The pilot thought a second. He turned and yelled back to the engineering spaces, "Ito! I need some assistance up here!"

***

"No way," Skylark was saying.

"No time," Farrell wheezed, "just step back so they can get you clear."

"I refuse to let you sac--" Her words were lost in the shimmering vortex of light, and Farrell was alone.

"Vijay, this is Farrell," he said into the comset. "I'm going to leave this channel open and," he shrugged, "hold the receiver, just in case." He sank down to the floor of the corridor. There was no response.

"Autodestruct Sequence Active," chirruped the computer. Farrell didn't bother to listen for the exact time. It was all or nothing now anyway. It had come to this. Sitting in a corridor, blown to sausage filler and probably bleeding to death. Alone. He was alone. It struck him as strangely odd that the corridor should feel this lonely. He looked slowly from one end to the other, almost wishing someone would come. No, he decided after a moment. It was better that everyone got off the ship. He chuckled then. He wasn't wishing for just anyone to come down the corridor. He was wishing for Ainsley.

Ainsley. He closed his eyes, conjuring up her image. Spinning into his arms on a dance floor, the very picture of the 30's. Laughing as she splashed him in a Roman fountain, her mascara running and her hair mussed. Her soul-withering glare across a conduit pipe in a photon tracking compartment. Her room-brightening smile across the rim of a marguerita glass. Looking up at him in the Bajoran rain, and pulling him in for a kiss. Swimming in the Risan sea, a nereid straight from the storybooks. And holding him. Holding him with a caring tenderness he hadn't felt in a long time. A selfish little piece of him wished she were here, but he overrode it. She was better off alive. That was worth knowing. She'd gotten off the ship with everyone else, and would live. She would live.

Mason opened his eyes, then, and saw the light.

"Terminal Solutions"
By: Captain Matthew T. Salinger
Lt. Commander Sam - Second Officer/Operations Manager
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer

Location: Various Locations, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 05h00

***

The shouts of security personnel ushering officers to the pods, and the fatalistic whine of klaxons alerting their impending demise were but murmurs compared to her thundering heartbeat. As the fleeing officers moved left, Xayella Tagliesh hurried right. Her name was hollered and a strong hand closed around her arm, but she ignored the former, and wrenched free of the latter. Set on a singular goal, escape was the last thing on her mind, as it was likely for Matt. Someone had to convince the proud fool to evacuate with the rest of them, and even though there was awkwardness and doubt between them, Xayella couldn't leave her heart to go up in flames with the ship.

An endless stream of crew was spilling from the Jefferies tube access hatch, and the next, blocking her passage. "Matt," she whispered helplessly, at a halt and searching the corridor frantically. Her eyes settled for a moment on the doors of the turbolift, but shifted away, knowing the lifts weren't functioning. It was only a brief second later that they returned. The lifts weren't working, but the shafts were accessible.

With renewed determination she dashed towards the sealed doors. There was but fifteen minutes to go and a long way to climb, but there was no way Xayella would allow the man she loved to die, not without experiencing the caress of his lips against hers one last time. For behaving well enough the past month, he owed her that at least.

***

"Commander?"

Lt. Commander Sam looked up at the sound of the captain's voice. "We have reclaimed sixty-three percent of the Sulu's available computer processing pathways. The remaining thirty-seven percent, however, includes functions such as life support and warp field containment. And, the self-destruct sequence."

Matt Salinger nodded gravely. "Continue, Commander."

"Certainly, Captain," the android responded. "The assistance from Makesh is helping. Sixty-eight percent, including life support."

Good, thought Matt as he turned away from Sam and T'Kal. He couldn't help worrying, but knew he had to put it out of his mind. There was still too much to do before he could allow his worries to come to the surface. The image of Lyrr, lying so helplessly in Sickbay, came to his mind. He didn't know if he could consider his first officer a friend, though he'd like to, his worries for her were great. He had to trust in the medical department's skills to keep her safe and to repair the damages done to her body.

Sam called out another status report, indicating they'd reclaimed seventy-two percent of the computer pathways.

You'd better be safely on an escape pod, Xay, he thought as he turned back to the operations manager. I'm going to be sick with worry when this is over, just trying to find you.

"Seventy-five percent, Captain."

***

The shaft tremored again, as she'd grown to expect, and again she wound one arm around a rung to cling fiercely to purchase. The shaft was dark and desolate, and the peril loomed above of a lift plummeting towards her at any moment, but she persevered. Stillness resumed and instantly Xayella continued her ascent. Sweat wended its way along the creases forming at the corner of her eyes and nettled them persistently. She hadn't the luxury of rubbing away the sting or wiping the perspiration; time was precariously short, and Xayella was resolved to find Matt.

The next and final deck was two lengths of her body up. Haste was of the essence, and with just that she heaved herself towards the doors. The only moment there was pause came with a resounding groan of straining metal from above as the ship trembled. Xayella's breath stopped, as did she, and her head craned to apprehensively study the lift suspended not so far above her. It shuddered, then skidded down a meter, raising sparks and a terrifying shriek as it fell. Xayella matched it with her own scream while flattening herself against the ladder in a futile attempt at evading the rushing lift. In another instant, there was surcease, but the creak of buckling supports warned that she wouldn't remain safe for long.

With a gasp, she scrambled upwards frantically. Her foot missed a rung and left her dangling by her white-knuckled hands, which had nearly released their hold through reflex when her chin slammed into a crossbar. Grunting thickly with pain, she regained her foothold and sluggishly resumed her ascent. Blood from the gash at her chin dripped steadily onto the chest of her uniform. Her hands trembled badly and she watched each one as it released one rung, reached for the next, and grasped it. The only thought keeping her from succumbing to panic was that Matt would be waiting for her on the next deck, and maybe he'd even welcome her presence.

The access panel and manual door release finally arrived, and none too soon. The lift overhead rumbled, and the ping of bolts shooting loose echoed in the shaft. Xayella's fingers flew with maddening speed over the panel, then reached aside to pull the lever. The doors lurched open a crack, but not nearly enough for her to squeeze through. Tears unbidden trickled from her eyes, but she persisted. Again she inputted commands, again she lowered the lever, and once more the doors opened an increment. At the beginning of each attempt, Xayella glanced up for a single, terrifying moment to will the turbolift to remain still just a while longer. As if in response, the lift would protest with a shrill moan, and Xayella would snap back into action.

During her fifth go, the entire shaft rumbled, and Xayella swayed dangerously on the ladder. Even after the shaking subsided, the lift continued rocking; Xayella was keen enough to know it was preparing to plunge downwards. Fingers stiff from fear and overuse, she fumbled with the command code, but managed to input it. Eyes wide and raised to the lift, she pumped the lever insistently. "Come on, you son of a bitch," she rasped, and as if heeding to her encouragement, the doors parted just enough for her to slip through sideways.

With a swift pull, she was below the doorway, and no sooner than she had pushed her upper body through did the lift begin grinding against the inner walls of the shaft as it clung to the lingering threads of its supports. Filled with dread and panic now, Xayella wriggled and kicked her dangling legs frantically to shimmy herself through the opening, while fingernails clawed at the deck in a desperate plea for anchor. She unconsciously cried out as the shaft quaked behind her and with a final thrust of her feet, her waist had forced through the doors.

Twisting onto her rear, Xayella drew in her legs, just as the lift gave way and plunged into the depths of the shaft; she'd pulled her feet in with barely time to spare, for before they were fully in the corridor, she felt the lift's exterior graze the underside of her boots during its descent. The ensuing crash shook even the deck she now lay upon, but Xayella was hardly allowed to notice; the klaxons were still blaring and imminent doom was now closer at hand. On unsteady legs, she rose and dashed headlong for the computer core, and for Matt.

***

The sound of the door whooshing open snapped two of the three of the computer core's inhabitants around to the door. Only Sam seemed to keep his attention focused on the task he was performing. When Matt's eyes met Xayella's, the surge of emotions within him was overwhelming. The sight of the blood on her uniform, dripping steadily from her chin, nearly broke his heart.

"Xay," he whispered, and rushed forward and took her into his arms. He kissed her, not caring that T'Kal and Sam were directly behind him. "You silly, insane woman. You should be in an escape pod, to get away from here." He pulled her tight to him again, his lips finding hers.

"I couldn't very well do that knowing you would stubbornly remain," she replied huskily, suppressing tears. In that instant, with his arms around her and his lips covering every inch of her face with kisses, she knew all had been forgiven, for the time being at least. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be held. "We have to get off the ship," she whispered. "Matt, come with me..."

"I can't leave yet," Matt replied, lowering his own voice to a whisper. "Just twenty-five more percent of the computer to go and we'll have control again." He looked into her eyes. "Stay here with me, Xay. If we run out of time, we'll all get out together." He kissed her. "Stay with me."

She smiled up at him, despite the pain radiating from her wound, and nodded. "I hadn't planned on leaving you anyway, so I'd be glad to stick around." Xayella exhaled shakily and embraced him fully. "I love you," she whispered. "Now, save our ship."

"I love you, Xayella," he whispered as he held her, then stepped away...but not too far away. "There's a medical kit in the back of the room. I can help you get that chin fixed up while Sam reclaims the rest of the ship's processing paths." He took her hand and led the way back to the rear of the room. "Commander?"

"Eighty-one percent, Captain. We have near-full control over the warp containment systems."

"Good, keep it up."

"Aye, sir."

Matt gave Xay a grin, but there was still a hint of worry in his eyes. "Almost there. Now, hold still." He began working at her chin with the medical kit. "Commander T'Kal, status on the core breach?"

"Magnetic flux fields are unstable, Captain." He looked at Salinger who was paying more attention to his woman than the crisis at hand and felt a stab of jealousy. Not for Xayella Tagliesh, but for the fact that Salinger had informed T'Kal of Lyrr Tayla's incapacity through passing her authority to Sam without sparing any concern whatsoever for the Security Chief's personal feelings about the woman he loved. Now he was ministering to Xayella's cut on the chin, while Lyrr was somewhere in Sickbay, presumably being evacuated while Benedict was here - standing his post and doing his duty. She might be dead for all he knew. He wanted to be with her - holding her as Salinger was doing with Tagliesh, but duty came first. "Chief Thaine has established control of the plasma injector systems and is working on the intermix systems. It will be close, but I think he'll manage to prevent the core breach from Main Engineering."

"Good," Matt said, as he examined his work on the gash in Xay's chin. "With control restored in that section, hopefully the damage isn't too far gone and can be reversed. Sam?"

"Ninety-one percent of the ship's computer processing has been returned to us, Captain," Sam replied. "Command controls and the self-destruct are all that lie outside of our control."

Matt nodded. "Keep it up, Commander," he said. "We'll be out of this soon..." ...one way or another.

"Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger," Makesh said. "We have nearly completed our work restoring your systems. We do, however, wish to inquire as to our future..."

"Once the ship and crew are safe, we will create a device that will allow you to survive on your world," he said. "You have my word."

"Thank you, Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger."

Matt smiled.

"Ninety-four percent, Captain."

"Commander T'Kal, if this works, we'll need a detail to retrieve our escape pods," Matt said. "Have Mr. Hex take care of that, if you would."

"Aye sir, Comms are operational." He tapped the interface. "Commander T'Kal to Lieutenant Hex."

"Hex here, sir," Arthas' voice came over the speakers. It sounded harried, but he was on the Bridge and for a moment there it looked like he'd never get off it.

Benedict continued. "We almost have everything back under our control - establish the auto helm controls for the escape pods and get them tethered for recall when we give the word."

"Aye aye, sir," Hex replied. "Damned glad to hear that, sir."

Benedict nodded. "Steady as she goes Arthas."

"Yes, sir - Hex out."

Benedict smiled. A flashing alert had lit on his panel. "Chief Thaine reports the Intermix chamber is now stable, sir." The LCARS' red flashing indicators turned green and steady. "He's averted the breach."

A heavy sigh of relief came from Xayella. "Does that mean we're okay?"

"Not quite yet," Matt answered. "As soon as Commander Sam gets access to the command controls, we can disable the self-destruct. Then we'll be okay."

"One minute until self-destruct," the computer chimed in, and Xayella's hold on Matt's hand tightened.

"It means we still might self destruct." Benedict's voice was tightly controlled, but he did give her a smile. "But I doubt it." He looked at Salinger. "The Bridge command systems have regained control, sir."

"Very good," Matt said. He took a deep breath and turned toward the console where Sam was working. "Computer, deactivate self-destruct. Authorization Salinger-alpha- alpha-nine."

"Does the Acting First Officer concur?"

"The Acting First Officer concurs," Sam stated. "Authorization Sam- tango-theta-sigma-three."

There was a long pause before the computer finally replied. "Cannot comply."

What had started to turn into a triumphant grin, changed immediately to worry. "Makesh?"

"One moment, Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger," came the disembodied voice of the alien. "Your starship is giving us some difficulty. Security countermeasures have activated, and they are keeping commands from being executed properly."

"Dammit. How long?"

"One moment, Captain," Makesh answered.

"Thirty seconds until self-destruct."

"Attempt to deactivate the self-destruction sequence once again, Captain."

"Computer, deactivate self-destruct. Authorization Salinger-alpha-alpha-nine."

"Does the Acting First Officer concur?"

"The Acting First Officer concurs," Sam stated. "Authorization Sam-tango-theta-sigma-three."

The room fell into silence. They could do nothing but wait while the computer decided their fate. Each ticking of the chronometer brought them a centimeter closer to their doom. Matt Salinger closed his eyes.

Then, "Auto self-destruct has been deactivated."

Matt let out a sigh of relief, then laughed softly as he opened his eyes. "Now we're okay," he said softly.

Benedict looked at Sam and extended his hand. "Well done, Sam." His voice was filled with relief. His smile was tentative, as he shook hands with the Android.

Sam placed his hand in T'Kal's, replicating the human custom of shaking hands flawlessly. "Thank you, Benedict," he answered. "However, much of the credit must be given to our guests."

Benedict turned to Salinger. "Sir, may I ask what happened to Commander Lyrr?"

"She was on her way to the bridge when a power conduit ruptured, at least from what medical's been able to determine," the captain said. "She was injured in the explosion. Ensign Finn found her and got her to Sickbay. He was still with her when I left, as well as some of the most competent doctors in all of Starfleet. Her situation was critical when I left, and given the crisis, I don't know if that's changed. I know you're worried, but give medical the chance to do their jobs before rushing in there."

The news hit him like a duranium beam. He simply nodded, all the blood leaving his face. The implicit command to remain at his station was clear. "Thank you, sir," he managed to say as if through fog. He looked back at his screens, accessing tactical and making sure that the ship was secured.

"Matt," Xayella whispered, tugging on his arm from where she sat. "Matt...let him go to her." She urged him with a smile. "Wouldn't you go to me if positions were reversed?"

Matt glanced at T'Kal. "Mr. T'Kal, I didn't mean you had to give medical a chance to do their jobs while you wait here. When they're done, I'm sure yours is the first face she'll want to see." He squeezed Xay's hand and smiled. "I have firsthand experience at just how much that helps lessen the pain. We can handle things from here."

Benedict looked up at the captain and nodded. The gratitude evident as he nodded to Tagliesh. "Thank you, sir. I'll turn Tactical over to Lieutenant Hex." He did just that as he nodded once again to Sam. The urge to run was controlled only until the doors closed on the Computer Core.

Once he was gone, Matt held out a hand to Xayella. "Come on, now that things are safe, let's see how much damage they did."

Xay sighed, and rose on sore, tired legs to join Matt. "What are you going to do with those...entities?" she asked, leaning into him for support.

"We're going to construct a Moriarity Matrix for them," Matt said. "Basically a holomatrix similar to the one the Enterprise made for the holoprogram that got out of control. If we had access to the technical specifications of a portable holoemitter, we could have given them that."

"After what they did," Xayella asked incredulously, "you're going to help them?"

"What they did, they didn't intend to do," Matt said. "And, in the end, they did help us to clear up the mess...a mess we put them into."

"Yeah, well I'd like to see them clean up this ship," she retorted, then smiled fondly up at Matt. "Am I forgiven, then? I did risk death to find you."

"I believe I can arrange something," Matt said with a smile. "Though, in the future, you'll have to work with us, instead of off on your own. Promise?"

"Only if you promise to reinstate me," she replied.

"Without hesitation," Matt said.

Xay grinned and planted a quick kiss upon his cheek. "Then I promise."

"Welcome back, Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh," Matt said with a smile. He took her hand into his and started to where Sam was still working. "Come on, let's see if we can help Sam put the ship back together."

"Assume Crash Positions"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counsellor
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
and Crewman Ken Smith - Security Crewman

Location: USS Sulu, Escape Pod 05-01
Stardate: 57908.20, 05h01

***

Damhnait Sefton and Ilan Potts sat silently in an escape pod still residing on deck five of the USS Sulu. While Potts monitored the status of the sedated Ensign Lektar, Sefton prepared the pod for ejection. Because of Operations' efforts, all of its control systems, manual and automated, were proving to be unaffected by the malfunctions plaguing the entire ship. Aside from the chirps and clicks of Damhnait's control panel, the only sound drifting into the pod was coming from Espinoza in the corridor, using his EV suit communications rig to ensure everyone on the ship had received the Captain's order to abandon ship.

Ken sat in the silence of the pod deep in thought. Where can I find work with the training I have received? Well Mercs are always needed. Depending on how I am discharged will affect my work inside the Federation. Dr. Sefton was handling the controls, beyond that Ken couldn't do much else. He was already strapped in, had checked and rechecked the buckles and straps, and now found nothing to busy himself with except for his thoughts.

At Damhnait's manual commands, the shipside hatch rose into place and the pod's door slid shut and sealed. They were all jostled during the delayed response time of the internal dampening field as the lifeboat launched away from the Sulu. "We did not receive an automated destination point," Sefton reported to Potts. "Do any of these continents look like the one the away teams visited?"

Potts clasped his hands together, utterly thrilled to be given a choice. He pointed a long finger at the display. "I rather like that one there in the southern hemisphere. She looks to be a lovely plot of land." He looked at Sefton and fluttered his eyebrows. "A good place for us to settle down and raise a family."

Damhnait cocked a disdainful eyebrow at the phallic landmass he had pointed towards, but smirked tightly as she monitored the intended destinations of the other escape pods, and followed them.

Why are they always mad as hatters? Ken rolled his eyes then rested his chin on his waiting arm.

Joining in on the eye rolling at Ken's thoughts, which had hit her mind with uncanny clarity, Damhnait acidly remarked, "Because disobeying orders and pointing a phaser at senior officers is the picture of mental stability?"

"As is violating someone's thoughts. In fact Lt.Cmdr. I believe that is tantamount to rape, Dr. Potts?"

"Hmmm?" Potts grunted, still looking at Doctor Sefton. Not being telepathic and not being the one so violated left him a little out of the loop. "Oh yes," he said, as if coming out of a trance and looking at Smith. "Violating someone's thoughts can be nasty business but telepathic cultures merely see it as another way to communicate. I'm sure that Doctor Sefton will gladly keep out of your head if you ask politely. You're going to be our oldest son, after all."

"I apologize, Doctor, I spent some time when I was a boy on Betazed, that was one of many tricks I picked up while there. I won't do it again." Crap, Ken what the hell are you thinking? Are you trying to get kicked out of Starfleet? Ok ok ok, I am a rock, surrounded on all sides by hard surfaces, impenetrable surfaces. No thought, no item, nothing can penetrate the surface. Ken continued his calming technique while he continued speaking. "No thank you, Dr. Potts, I already have a set of doting parents I don't need another. Now a strange Uncle and Aunt I could use." Ken was regaining control of his thoughts and pushing his anger to the background.

"Aw pity," Potts said, truly disappointed. He turned back forward. "I always wanted a boy." Somewhat furtively and a little absently, he placed a long-fingered hand on Doctor Sefton's knee. "Of course, there is a lot to be said for getting one the old-fashion way."

With her eyes on Smith, Damhnait absently placed her hand over Potts', and then removed his hand from her leg. "Crewman, you are aware that ensuring the safety of my patients aboard the escape pods was my duty, are you not?" Damhnait asked, more concerned with Smith's phaser wielding than his odd trick of exponentially increasing the 'volume' of his thoughts.

"I am, Doctor, however I don't know if you were aware of it but there is a rumor going around that the crew was rioting to get aboard the pods. I wouldn't want people to bypass the regulations, without them we would be no better than a ship full of pirates who cut and run at the first possible sign of trouble. Duty, responsibility, and adherence to regulations even in the face of overwhelming odds and fear was beaten into me the first day of "A" school. If security breaks down in its duty, the rest of the ship will soon follow. The order had not yet been passed, ma'am."

"Don't you lecture me. How can you not see that interfering with my duty to my patients, levelling a weapon at unarmed officers, and disobeying my orders was already a pirate-like 'break down of duty'?" Sefton rhetorically asked Ken. "The autodestruct sequence is not the first sign of trouble. Based on what little knowledge I have been provided on these glitches, there is no reason to believe that they can halt the self destruct. If I had started to load the escape pods when the Captain ordered the launch of the escape pods, I would have had to leave behind medical supplies, or even officers, in order to launch in time. That is unacceptable."

"Your duty is to your patients, mine is to Starfleet. You lay neither in my chain of command nor did you have positional authority in that situation. Besides, by your reasoning every one should be sitting in the pods waiting for the Captain to order a launch since we might leave some people or equipment behind if we all wait for the order. Yeah that is a good idea, let's all just leave our posts and head to the pods because we might be left behind. Ever hear the adage 'don't give up the ship'?" Indigo always likes to think they are above the rest of the fleet, left to their own devices. Bahhhh keep it in the back, Ken.

"Do not presume to understand my reasoning," Sefton said coldly once he finally stopped talking. "Especially not when your inferences are so simplistic. I never argued that anyone should run from his or her duty station. I only wanted to ensure the safety of immobilised patients who could perform no duty and who could not have made it to the escape pods in short order. My medical officers only came to the pods because our duty station is by the sides of our patients, wherever that may be."

"Come now the both of you," Potts interjected, breaking into one of the ration packs and pulling out a three cylindrical nutrient sticks. "Aunt Damhnait is perfectly reasoned in her assertion that there was no harm in allowing those who had done the ultimate service into the pods and young Smith here has a point about the machinery of capitalism being oiled by the blood of the workers." Potts bit into one of the sticks and held the other two out for the bickerers. "Now, I will not have you two ruin our first Thanksgiving together."

"For the sake of my favorite Uncle I will take the high ground and cease this pointless arguing. Uncle Potts would you please pass a drum stick." Ken turned to Potts and smiled genuinely for once. Mad as a hatter, and funny as hell.

Her temper untamed by Potts' efforts of levity, Damhnait's flushed expression was marred with incredulity. "It is not called 'taking the high ground' when you say that you are 'taking the high ground'. That is called being petty." Regarding Potts, Damhnait exasperatedly asked, "Was there not a time when enlisted crew respected officers, regardless of their division? And what is Thanksgiving?"

"A traditional Earth North American holiday, and I am a crewman not a petty" --Ken replied with aloofness as he picked apart a ration stick-- "officer, Ma'am. I must say, Uncle, you really out did yourself this year with the turkey."

"It is quite good," Potts enthused, pushing a stick in her direction. "I don't think it's turkey though," he said, his face growing puzzled while he chewed.

"Well I would like to think it's turkey rather than what it might be," Ken said as he took another chewy bite.

While Sefton had grown less eager to dismiss Potts' eccentricities, she still had no intention of joining in on them, especially when she recalled the origin of Thanksgiving. Lightly swatting the ration stick away, Damhnait muttered, "I don't celebrate slaughters."

Potts looked appropriately wounded. 'Slaughters?' he mouthed silently to Crewman Smith, his face a question mark.

"Well that would explain the dryness of this turkey. The Doctor is referring to what happened after the colonist of the Mayflower celebrated the first thanksgiving with the Indians who helped save them. A long and gruesome attempt to convert the Indians and colonize the land that belonged to them followed their charity. Just a reminder that no good deed goes unpunished."

Looking to the PADD detailing Shirik's vitals, which Potts had left unattended on Shirik's chest, Damhnait gasped, "She has regained consciousness."

Shirik had indeed regained consciousness, and once she heard the voices around her, wished that she hadn't. She hadn't dared open her eyes, either. She wasn't sure where she was, but it sounded very small, and felt like it was moving. And gathered around her were a stranger, the insane Dr. Potts whom she disliked, and the Betazoid doctor who she was sure was probably still angry with her over the klaas incident. Yes, she was probably better off not getting involved, she thought.

But now she was noticed. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around, hands already searching for her PADD, and finding one perched on her chest.

"Don't be alarmed, but your lungs have been flooded with an oxygenated liquid to supplement the mechanical oxygenator. Try not to move very much," Damhnait said as soothingly as she could manage, her anger at everyone in the pod evaporating at the first sign of the discomfort Shirik was feeling.

"She's on the mend," Potts declared happily, bumping his nutrient stick against Smith's in a kind of makeshift toast. "It's a Thanksgiving miracle!"

Shirik rolled her eyes and decided yes, staying still was a good idea. She removed her hands from the PADD atop her chest and closed her eyes once more. She couldn't speak anyway without typing, which required movement, so she might as well try to ignore the people around her and go back to sleep. Except...where was she? Her eyes opened once more and her gaze went to Dr. Sefton. She knew she wouldn't have to speak to get an answer from her. Where in the hell was she? What was happening?

"We are aboard a lifeboat," Sefton explained evenly, her eyes shifting between Shirik and the pilotry controls. "The autodestruct sequence was accidentally activated, and then the warp core approached a breach on its own. The crew is abandoning the ship."

Her vitals lurched as her eyes widened at the news. The ship was going to be destroyed? Now she was worried about those she cared about. Had they gotten off the ship? Would they stubbornly stay behind and try to save the ship, only to get killed? She knew that was a distinct possibility for at least one of them. There was nothing she could do about any of it, and no one here could give her those answers at the moment. Again, she could do nothing but lay there and wait, and hope. Where are we going? she thought at the doctor. The thought of being stranded on a dead alien world wasn't appealing, and her own chances of recovery there, unless the doctor had brought along a treatment that might work, were slim to none.

Stranded on a dead alien world, with Potts? That had to be a worse fate than death.

"We are headed for the surface of JJ324c. Starfleet knows where we are, and the ship is still in tact. Mostly." The confidence in Damhnait's words quirked away towards the end. "I have brought everything I should need to complete your therapy." Looking vaguely towards Crewman Smith, Sefton remarked, "Which I would not have been able to do, had I waited to load the pods."

"It's a beautiful landmass, Princess," Potts chimed in, his mouth full. "If we get a few shuttles joining in the evacuation, the chances of a rescue should increase a thousandfold. The Federation does have friends, even in the Gamma Quadrant."

"And how many enemies does the Federation have? How many of those are closer and would beset upon us without hesitation to steal what technology and secrets we may have? I for one hope Cmdr. T'Kal gets us to work right away setting up defences and fortifying an area for a command post. At least then we may have a chance if what is worse than the worst happens." Ken hoped that medical and scientific equipment wasn't loaded into all these pods, some phaser rifles and portable shield generators would be nice.

Damhnait briefly considered being accused of rape again, to point out to Smith that every Sefton-loaded medical kit and cargo comes with portable shield generators. Instead, she focused her eyes directly on the sole control panel and absently tried to sync it to her medical tricorder, while telepathically attempting to check-in on Cristobel.

Shirik closed her eyes at mention of T'Kal's name. She hoped he made it off the ship, and hadn't tried to stay behind until it was too late. She hoped he was safe. He and Sorg and Saavar. They were the only ones that mattered to her.

"Now you've upset Ensign Lektar," Potts said to Smith, as sternly as he could manage. He reached out and snatched the nutrient stick away from the Crewman and shook it at him. "Pessimistic young men don't get dessert."

"They may not get dessert but they do live longer which I think is a very fair trade. You know," --paying closer attention to the woman lying on the stretcher for the first time since helping load her into the shuttle Ken remarked, "You look kind of familiar."

Shirik turned her head slightly to eye the man quizzically. If they'd met, she couldn't recall. He didn't look familiar to her.

"It will come to me in time I am sure. Well since we are trapped in this pod for the time being what do you suggest we do to pass the time, Dr. Potts?"

Once the pod hit the upper atmosphere, the internal dampeners rockily fluctuated, light filled the pod from its sole porthole, and the sensor grid fractured out of alignment. As Damhnait began to reinitialise the navigational sensors, she blurted, "We've lost telemetry on the Sulu - can anyone see it?"

Looking out the porthole, the last thing Ken saw was an expanding orange and yellow ball that bathed them all in bright light. Then everything went dark, except for the soft glow of their fiery atmospheric entry, as they arced towards the other side of the world.

"Escape"
By: Ensign Roades Mouazer - Communications Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 05h04

***

Mouse's feet clattered hard against the rungs of the ladder as he moved quickly up the Jefferies Tubes. Still clad in his EV-Suit, Mouse debated getting rid of the suit and just keeping the Communication Rig.

He knew however it would be useless without the suit to power so he beared with it and trudged onwards to the deck leading to the nearest escape pod. Though he knew the suit had been primarily for keeping communications flowing smoothly throughout the ship and it was now in his opinion useless, he figured it would be best to wear it as a safety precaution. Very slowly but at a steady pace he trailed behind the other officers preparing to abandon ship.

Part of himself could not believe it had come to this. He had only been on the ship around just barely a few weeks now, met and made friends, and some enemies as per fate would have it. And now here he was escaping from the ship along with the other officers.

Fate certainly had a sense of humor about life at times...

Roades pushed aside the floor plating and climbed out into the corridor. After shortly looking around eventually Mouse spotted where the other officers were heading to the escape pods and he quickened his steps. Time to get off the ship. Hurriedly Mouse stepped onboard the pod and before long he found it being jettisoned into space.

"Evacuation Orders"
Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Lieutenant (JG) Taylor Bennett - Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 05h04

***

The order had been given and Taylor Bennett waited as long as she could. Inside, she chastised herself for abandoning her post, though her rational mind knew she was doing what was required of her. The order had been passed down, and now she was to go to her assigned evacuation point.

The charge on her phaser was still full, thankfully having not been required to use it. She'd heard of the incidents where crew had to be stunned or worse to get them to comply. It was sad that Starfleet officers, trained as she had been, failed so severely when it came to this test of their discipline.

Ahead of her, as she neared the escape pod she'd been assigned to, a familiar face came into view. "Nat," she called, and hurried forward. Taylor couldn't help grinning when Nat turned, and she saw that her bunkmate held Joji in her arms. "Hello to you too, little devil." She grinned at Nathalie as they fell into step together. "How are you holding up in your first crisis as a security officer?"

"Good, I've managed to keep a clear head under stress, but deep inside of me like some of the others, I can't help but feel scared," Nathalie remarked as she looked over to her bunkmate. "So far nobody's given me trouble. I'm glad I haven't had to yet find an excuse to fire off my phaser." Nat shook her head as she recalled the earlier incident with D'Nall and the unruly mob. It was sad that people could still act so recklessly in this day and age no matter what training they went through. They had a right though, didn't they? They were scared.

Shrugging the thought aside she then asked, "How's things been going on your side, Tay?"

"Thankfully with little incident," Taylor answered. "Mostly it was keeping things calm and under control, then assisting in locking down all the tactical systems." She ruffled the top of Joji's head. "And, I bet your day's been more exciting than both of ours combined, hasn't it? Come on, let's get to that pod."

Nodding, the pair quickened their pace as they moved down the corridor that would lead them to Pod 12 Neither expected to find what they did when they arrived. A small group of officers was gathered outside the closed Pod Doors, looking very scared and nervous.

"We're trapped! The Pod Doors won't open! We've tried everything, nadda!"

"Please stay calm," Taylor said as she stepped forward to examine the controls. "Panicking isn't going to help the matter at all." She looked up at those gathered around the pod and smiled. "It'll just take a little work to get them open that's all. I'll work at this, and while I'm doing that. Everyone, meet Joji." She grinned as the attention shifted to Nathalie and Joji. Hopefully the cute pup would keep their attention long enough for Taylor to figure out how to get the door open.

Joji looked over to Taylor before she looked up at the crew members before her, and gingerly stepped forward before nuzzling her nose against one crewman's outstretched hand. Nat gave a reassuring smile as Joji paid attention to her crew mates. "Joji is a partner of mine on ship patrols. We have come to think of her as somewhat of a mascot down in Security, sometimes I think she takes more credit for my work than me," Gui added, chuckling, drawing some laughs out of the crew. Well at least I'm taking their mind off the current situation... Continuing to take and answer questions regarding her pet, Nat waited patiently as Taylor worked at the controls.

"Override isn't working," Taylor said. "I have another idea though." With that, she popped the hatch below the controls, and dug into the innards of the mechanism. There was a pop and the door parted slightly. "There we go."

With the help of one of the others, they managed to get the doors opened to allow the crew to finally enter. As they were moving inside, Taylor gave a grin to Nat.

"Finally," Nat remarked, returning Tay's grin. Joji began to shuffle her way back towards the entrance of the pod, suddenly feeling that perhaps it would be better to hide in the Jefferies Tubes than where they were headed off to next.

"Oh no you don't!" Nathalie quickly scooped up Joji and moved back inside the pod next to Taylor. "I think you had far too much fun for one day..."

"Now would really be a bad time to go chasing after you," Taylor said as she ruffled the top of Joji's head. She looked out into the corridor and sighed. As she pressed the control to close the doors, she couldn't help but feel a sadness. The Sulu was a good ship. Good luck, she silently urged to those still on board, fighting to save their home.

And, with that, she set the pod activation sequence.

"Welcome To The Party"
By: Lt. Brennyn Scott, RN - Chief Counselor
Nurse Carrie Crowe - Nurse

Location: Deck 5, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 05h08

***

"Come on, that's it, one foot in front of the other, we're almost there." At least she prayed they weren't too far from a vacant pod. Bree Scott had gone in search of those wounded who couldn't make it to Sickbay the first time communications went down, and as she all but carried a man nearly twice her size with a nasty concussion, she hoped with every fiber of her being the crisis would be averted and the red lights would stop flaring.

As far as she knew, her staff were running around like headless chickens pushing patients in pods they couldn't possibly need. It had to be a simple precaution. None of them were destined to abandon their ship this early into their voyage, and Scott was not destined to die during her second fleet posting. It just wasn't happening, and that's all there was to it. They would figure a way to stop this.

From behind, her name was called, and even as she turned her neck to find the source of the summons, Nurse Crowe had rushed up beside Scott's patient and wrapped both arms around his waist to lessen her burden. "We have to hurry," she shouted, eyes wide and fearful. "The call's been made."

"Shit," the counselor muttered. Crowe looked shocked. "Sorry," Scott amended, "Freudian slip." As they moved in tandem, Brennyn asked. "How is everyone? Lyrr?"

"I don't know," she answered. "She was in sickbay the last I saw her, unconscious still. I was with Doctor Sefton, helping load our patients into the pods. We ran out of room so the rest of us had to run off and find our own escape pods." The nurse was near tears now. "The ship's not going to make it...what are we going to do? How are we going to get back home?"

Bree placed a free hand on the nurse's shoulder. She made sure her voice wasn't harsh, but firm. "Listen to me, everything is going to be ok. This isn't over yet, so let's not start mourning yet, hm?"

"But we need to find a pod!" Crowe exclaimed. "And all these people... What about those who can't make it, those who're trapped and..." She sobbed. "This is my first posting... I didn't think this would happen when I joined the 'fleet."

"Neither did I," Scott replied, "but we will find a pod. We just have to, and we will. I need you to stay calm, can you take a deep breath and do that for me?" The reality that she was saying this for her own benefit wasn't lost on her.

Crowe heeded Scott's advice, and found her racing heart settling further with each breath. After they had rounded a corner leading to the next set of pods, Crowe had stopped raving. "I'm glad you'll be with me, Counsellor," she admitted, smiling hopefully.

Bree exhaled and smiled, making sure to offer a reassuring glance to the disoriented crewman the two women were guiding to the bay. "I'm glad you're here too. Let's go find a pod, eh?"

Nodding emphatically, Nurse Crowe redoubled her efforts, along with Counsellor Scott, and both aided the injured officer to the pods. Already an orderly swarm of officers were filing into the berthed pods. Fright gripped her once more as she noted they were quickly filling up. "What do we do if there isn't room for us?" she asked.

Bree had been wondering the same thing. "Then we'll just go find another pod," Bree replied. And run like hell, she thought grimly.

When they reached the pods, the majority were occupied and preparing to launch; some already had and few remained. "We have an injured man, here!" Carrie called to the other officers. Two of them who had been preparing to duck into a pod desisted and instead moved to assist them. Carrie sighed, glad that the disaster hadn't robbed everyone of their benevolent spirit.

"Help him into the pod," she instructed, and quickly yet carefully they relieved Bree and Carrie of the injured man. That left them searching for a vacant pod. The two rushed along the row of pods, each one either blasting away or sealing behind a full compliment of passengers. Carrie's optimism was being quickly dashed. "We're not going to find one," she said sullenly.

"Yes, we are..." replied Bree, picking up the pace. And with each beat, she started to pray. Our Father, who art in Heaven...

Carrie's sharp gasp and persistent shoulder tapping jolted Bree from her solace through prayer; at the corner of her eye, Carrie's pointed finger came into view. "There! Come on!" Gripping Bree's sleeve, the nurse hurried for a pod at the far end of the row. When they arrived, five individuals were already settling into the pod. Carrie's face paled. "Y-You go, Counsellor," she said tremulously. "I'll find another."

"No," replied Bree, "either you go alone, or we go together. I'm not leaving you behind. Maybe there's room for both of us here." She looked critically at the pod and was trying to determine if there was room to squeeze one extra person aboard.

"There aren't enough harnesses," Crowe explained. "Counsellor...you should go." She tried to put on a brave smile, but her lips quivered. "They need counsellors more than nurses...if we're going to be stranded on the planet for a while."

Bree did not want to leave Crowe behind, and every fiber of her being resisted such a notion, but there were other equally strong forces vying for her attention. Scott was a senior officer. She couldn't ask Crowe to wait to leave the ship until they found two empty harnesses, but training had taught her sending people into harm's way was part of the job. "Oh, screw it," Bree muttered, "Carrie, you take this one, I'll find another." If she survived this, she knew she could handle a lecture from Salinger about the importance of the Senior Staff, and if she didn't survive, well, it just wouldn't matter, would it?

Crowe was protesting even as Scott was gently nudging her into the pod. Continuing forward on her own, and dropping into the single vacant seat, Crowe watched forlornly as the hatch closed, leaving Counsellor Scott on the other side. She mouthed a thank-you, and in the next instant, the pod launched away from the Sulu.

Bree took a moment to smile and offer a reassuring thumbs-up, and as soon as the pod took off, she started running, her boot heels clacking on the deck.

Sweat began to bead on her brow, and by the time she made it to the nearest Jefferies tube, her uniform was sticking to her, but her skin felt clammy. Her fear was palpable. No matter what she had told Crowe or wanted to believe, Scott knew the odds. Despite the dangers of space, very few starship captains had ever had to give the order to abandon ship. The fact that Salinger had meant things were very bad. It was an order of very last resort.

Bree pushed those thoughts away as she entered the tube. Unbeknownst to most, Scott was claustrophobic, so moving within its confines, even if it meant her survival, was its own kind of torture. She kept her eyes forward and her arms and legs moving. The Lord's Prayer continued in her head and helped her to stay focused.

Before long she was prying at the hatch, cursing the fact she had no nails with which to give her leverage. And then, just like that, it was open, and a gruff voice was heard saying, "Well, come on then!" Rough hands reached in to pull her out, and although everything was bathed in bright red light, she could not place him. Before she knew it, he had her by the arm and he was practically dragging her to a pod.

The next thing she knew, he had practically thrown her into a harness. By the time she had recovered her senses, he was gone...

"Welcome to the party, Counselor," said a woman beside her, "glad you decided to join us."

"Avoiding Fate"
by Ensign Kit Markham - Flight Control Officer
and Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist

Location: USS Sulu, Corridor Outside Upper Main Shuttlebay
Stardate 57908.20 05h09

***

From his vantage point in the shadowed corridor, Chief Petty Officer Case watched Kit Markham emerge from the Upper Main Shuttlebay on shaky legs and looking like a man that had not only faced death but had been taken away from it reluctantly. On his climb down from Deck Five, the word had passed to Sorien that the evacuation order had come and it fell to Case to inform those who did not already know. Markham's morose expression was not alight with any inherent desire to survive and it was entirely evident to Case that Kit might just roll the dice, go to some isolated corner of the ship, and ride out the evacuation.

It had a certain nobility to it but Case was a hard enough man who had seen enough dying to be unmoved by the idea. When you had suffered ultimate loss of your only family, it was exceedingly difficult to concern oneself with strangers or even virtual strangers. Things might be so much easier if he just let Markham find his spot, hunker down, and wait for the white light.

Instead, he heard himself call out: "Ensign Markham?" He didn't step out of the shadows yet. He let them fold over him.

Kit turned. His eyes found the outline of Case in the shadows, and for a moment wondered at the reality of the situation. In the darkness, accentuated by the still-flashing red-alert lighting, details were hard to discern, but Kit's eyes had grown accustomed to it. "Chief Case," he said.

There were a dozen heartbeats between the men before Case stepped out into the corridor. "There's been an order to abandon ship, sir," Case said, red light splashed over his features. "I'm here to see that you do."

"How very touching," Kit said. "I'm sure there are other people onboard who could use your help more than I. I can take care of myself."

"Fair enough," Case said, a small smile touching his lips. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the shuttlebay. "Are the shuttles operational? In about sixty seconds, I won't be the only one asking."

"For the most part," Kit said. "Though, I'd warn anyone to stay away from the Nightingale. I hear Commander Zareb's just waiting to shoot any unauthorized personnel who venture too close."

Case looked at Markham grimly and marched for the shuttlebay. The doors hissed and, for a change, opened all the way. Kit followed behind him warily.

Case walked out onto the flight deck of the Upper Main section, seemingly unmindful that not long before the glimmering force field that held atmosphere in the bay had failed. He leaned over the railing enough to see down into the main section, where the bulk of the craft were stored.

Sorien let escape a ragged sigh. "The Nightingale is gone," he observed, expecting as much. "We're going to be overrun any minute...I'll go down to direct the evacuation in the main shuttlebay. We'll have a mess if someone doesn't take charge."

"Go ahead, Chief," Kit said. "Can't fit too many in the Mallory, but we'll take as many as we can."

"We've only got about five minutes," Case reminded him. "Don't wait until the last second, sir. Half a load of people is better than none." Case moved past him, on the way to the bay ladder. "And you've already been a hero today."

"I never would have pegged you for that type of person, Chief," Kit said without turning. "But, the day is full of surprises."

Case was on the ladder, preparing to disappear into the bay's lower half. "Ensign, if this ship does destruct, people are going to die. We both might as well make peace with that fact right now. We won't have the chance later." Sorien started his descent.

"If you want peace," Kit said as he started back toward the Mallory, "you'll stay clear."

But Case was already gone, sliding down the ladder into the level below. On both decks came the furious tramping of many feet and the certainty that their many minds were occupied with a singular thought: Get off the ship now.

Along in the upper main shuttlebay, Ensign Kit Markham turned to watch their approach. After a moment, he turned back toward the Mallory. While he may have wished he were dead, the rest of them didn't deserve that fate. At least not yet.

"Locked Out, Part 3"
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: Holodeck 3, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 06h00

***

The room had been steadily filling with water for the previous two hours. At first Vincent thought that the sprinkler system would cut out after the computer had deemed the "fire" had been put out. Unfortunately for Vincent, the sprinklers had continued to go off after half an hour - and being completely drenched, Vincent was not a happy camper.

As the water level began to rise above his waist after the first hour Vincent had become concerned as to how he would survive this deluge. Although he was an accomplished swimmer, he did not have the use of his left arm and if he were to float to the top, it still did not solve his most fundamental problem. How would he get out? The need and urgency for it seemed intensified now that he was faced with being drowned.

Vincent remembered the Environmental Suit he had found in the alcove. Wading over the corner where he had left it, Vincent reached down to see if it was still functioning. The oxygen valves worked and the life support system booted up at his touch. Satisfied, Vincent shucked himself into the suit and sealed the helmet. Vincent regulated his breathing to conserve his air, and made his way over to the door. An idea struck him. The door would not be able to hold in the immense pressure being exerted by the water in the room. It simply had to give. Knowing this, Vincent positioned himself next to the door and waited until the water had reached a sufficient level for him to push the door open.

Finally, when the water had risen about a foot above his head, Vincent settled against the floor and using whatever purchase and leverage he had began pushing against the door with his right shoulder. At first the door did not give and Vincent thumped himself against it several times before it finally gave way. However, Vincent was not expecting this and fell, head first into the corridor as the water flowed out around him.

Getting to his feet gingerly and taking off the suit, he noticed that the alarm klaxons on the ship had stopped, and seeing that the ship was still intact, Vincent figured that the self-destruct had been averted. Letting out a relived sigh, Vincent ran a hand through his wet hair, brushing it away from his face.

Two security crewmen walking the corridor stopped in their tracks as they saw him. Their mouths fell open in astonishment as they surveyed the scene before them. Vincent examined himself and his surroundings. Although he was still in his Starfleet uniform, it looked like something entirely different. His shirt was now sleeveless, and a large jagged hole had appeared to the left of his chest where his comm.-badge had been before he had ripped it off. He was unshaven and drenched. He looked back towards the entrance to Holodeck 3. The sprinklers had stopped, but the water had flooded into the corridor and the floor was wet as far as Vincent could see. The doors lay crumpled against the opposite wall.

It was going to be one hell of a clean up and all because Vincent had gotten stuck in Holodeck 3. He decided to do his bit and picked up the Environmental Suit. Smiling at the crewmen he said, "See ya around, fellas!" and walked out as casually as one could with a fractured collarbone on the left and an Environmental Suit on the right.

"Stepping Out On A Limb"
By: Crewman Sorg Jurell - Security Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 08h04

***

The evacuation of the sick and injured had caused major hassles for the whole medical staff, but now they were all back in sickbay where they belonged, the ship was functioning again and the matters of healing could continue.

In Shirik Lektar's case, she was once again back in her isolation room, her situation no less fraught with danger as they had yet to proceed with a cure for the Drokari metabolism. Doctor Sefton was still working on it, and hopes were higher than the previous day, but nothing was certain. She was still listed as critical and still required a machine to oxygenate her blood. The two probes that delivered the oxygen did so through direct shunts into her bloodstream leading into her heart, and so she was severely restricted in movement. She lay inert, only her head and arms capable of moving as the sensor cage was closed over her lower abdomen and legs.

Even with all the fuss, the constant care and the probes, examinations, tests and re-tests, she was still alert and chafing at the restrictions.

Sorg Jurell walked into Sickbay aching and tired. He'd been assisting medical all night and now he was finally allowed to take off duty. He wanted to check on Shirik before crashing in his quarters. He poked his head around the door, saw her awake and grinned. "Hi. Mind a visitor?"

She smiled when she saw him, in welcome and relief. After the ship seemed about to be destroyed, and escape pods deployed, she'd had no idea of what had happened to those she cared about on the Sulu. She was glad to see that Sorg was all right, and she beckoned him over to her.

"Everything's quieting down," he said as he joined her. "Just thought I'd catch up before I sack out. Doctor Sefton's been running me ragged all night." He grinned. "That's the last time I ever talk back to her...she's one mean lady. Very cute though," he observed wryly.

'Oh? Should I be jealous?' she typed, giving him a teasing look.

He read the words and laughed. "As if!" He looked her in the eye, was she just teasing? Prophets...her teasing gaze was more than enough to make him swallow hard. "How are you?" he asked defensively.

'Not bad, considering the ship almost blew up,' she typed. 'I was worried about you. Please tell me you were in a pod or on your way to one, and not about to go down with the ship.'

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm afraid I would have blown up. Along with Commander T'Kal."

That was the answer she suspected, and wasn't happy to hear. All humor slipped from her expression. 'I would not have been pleased.'

"Me either," he grinned. "Getting dead puts a stop to your career and plays havoc with your private life!"

'Indeed it does,' she typed, no answering smile finding her features. Where had Saavar been, she wondered. Would she have lost all three of them? It was a sobering thought that settled like a rock in her gut.

Sorg saw the look on her face and his smile grew more sober. "We have a duty," he said softly. "Security is always last to leave. Bridge staff remain until everyone else is off the ship. That's the way it goes...we wouldn't have it any other way."

Bridge staff... wasn't that where Saavar would be in an emergency? She closed her eyes. All three of them at once. She was glad she hadn't had to face that. Just thinking about it was painful enough.

"What's the matter, Shirik?" He'd seen the pained expression, the haunted look in her eyes. "We're all okay - you, me, T'Kal. Everyone is fine. Don't worry." He frowned slightly as he asked, "What's the situation with you two anyway? I've seen the way you looked at him. You have a thing for T'Kal don't you?"

'We're just friends,' she typed.

"You mean he's just friends. I've seen it in your eyes." Sorg looked into her violet eyes and wondered what it would take for someone like Shirik to ever be interested in him like that. He knew that she was only being nice because she felt that she owed him - first for covering for her and now for saving her life. He was hopelessly attracted to her and knew that he had no chance with her at all. Especially with T'Kal and now Saavar hanging around. Crewman Sorg Jurell was poor competition indeed.

Her violet eyes studied him for a long moment before she typed some more. 'Why is it you always ask me about my relationships with other men? Instead of just focusing on my relationship with you? Do you really think so little of yourself, Sorg?'

He swallowed as he read the words on the padd and paled before he could look into her eyes again. He shrugged, not knowing what to say, but realizing that it may well be the last opportunity he had to say anything at all. "We don't have a relationship, Shirik," he pointed out. "I'm a crewman and you're an officer, it wouldn't work even if it was possible. I can't compete with the Chief - even if he is just a friend. I've not much to offer someone like you. You're beautiful - the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I'm not stupid..."

'Yes we do,' she typed back at him. 'Maybe not quite the one you're hoping for, but I consider you my friend, and I don't have a lot of those. I don't just like you because of the things you've done for me, either. You're a nice person, and you are attractive. You just remember that.' She gave his hand a squeeze.

"I am your friend," he grinned, blushing at her compliment. "I wasn't hoping for anything!" he protested, lying badly. "I wish you hadn't been on the away team," he said quietly.

'I'm not stupid, either,' she typed with a smile. 'Oh, I'm not sorry I was on it. Even now, I'm not. I just hope my getting sick doesn't cause anyone to pass me by for the next one.'

"They won't," he assured her. "The way I hear it, Tagliesh has been stripped of her command and she's the one to blame for everything! Talk is," he lowered his voice as he leaned toward Shirik. "She's a Jonah.."

She frowned in puzzlement. 'A what?'

"A Jonah...comes from the Book of Jonah from the Terran Bible. This guy called Jonah was a bad luck charm on a ship, cursed by God, so the ship suffered." Sorg shrugged. "It's a naval tradition to call anyone bringing bad luck to a ship Jonah."

Shirik would have snorted if she could have. 'Luck has nothing to do with it. It's her attitude and incompetence that almost killed everyone, not bad luck.' She did notice that the woman had made no effort to come see the victims of her incompetence. 'I hope I never have to lay eyes on her again.'

"They used to throw Jonah's overboard. I suppose an airlock would do just as well," Sorg whispered with a smirk. "Though she's the captain's squeeze...."

'I only met the captain once, briefly, so I don't know anything about his character. But I hope she doesn't escape punishment because of that.'

"Well he's assigned someone else as Chief of Science. I saw the security access authority myself, a Lieutenant Druschev. You know her?"

She shook her head. 'I've seen her service record, but never met her in person.' She frowned slightly. 'Isn't Saavar next in line?' She wondered why he would be passed over.

"Yeah, but the word is, the captain doesn't like him...something between Tagliesh and Saavar. One of the duty engineers in the science labs said that Saavar put his fist through Tagliesh's desk terminal or something. They had an argument anyway. He had to fix it."

She shook her head. The pettiness on this ship ran all the way up to the captain? Some immature nurses in sickbay she could understand, but the captain? 'If that's the only reason, then the captain's judgement isn't any better than hers.'

Sorg shrugged. "Why not ask Saavar. You're close." He smirked. "I'd love to know what actually happened."

'I intend to,' she wrote. 'I'm not very impressed with how this ship is run.'

He grinned. "I wouldn't be putting that in writing." He chuckled and erased the words.

'They can't throw me in the brig for expressing my opinion,' she typed, a stubborn look in her eyes.

"When it comes to that kind of opinion they can." The security officer grinned. "Inciting a mutiny I believe is the term." He rolled his eyes.

'Not being impressed with the way the ship is run is a far cry from inciting mutiny,' she typed. She decided to get off this topic, which was darkening her mood, and reached for one of his hands to take hold of. 'I'm glad you're ok.'

He grinned and looked down at her hand. "Does this mean we're engaged?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at his joking, but then her gaze found his. 'You were the one who kissed me...' She was sure he'd turn red.

"I did didn't I," he said, but his gaze didn't leave hers.

She smiled softly at him. 'Yes, you did.' He surprised her by not blushing or getting flustered as he usually did. Was he getting bolder?

His eyes strayed to her lips and her smile, then back to her violet eyes. Her hand felt soft and warm and he unconsciously leaned forward, as if her eyes were twin tractor beams. He couldn't help it. She just watched him as he leaned in and kissed her again.

Her eyes slid closed as their lips met again, her hold on his hand tightening just a bit as she returned the kiss. When they parted, her eyes opened once more to study his face.

He only pulled back slightly, his eyes still closed as he smiled. Now he did turn red, and when his eyes finally opened he was only centimeters from her. "Well, I didn't get slapped...that's a good sign," he whispered.

She smiled wordlessly, not wishing to break the moment by typing. She'd never noticed how blue his eyes were before. She nodded slightly, her lips poised and waiting, thirsty for more.

It was the invitation that he saw in her eyes. He'd wanted to kiss her since the first morning he'd been told to stand watch in the Computer Core. He'd watched her all day - every day. He wasn't about to deny her. He kissed her softly, barely brushing lips against hers, tasting her full lips and worshipping them with his own. He kissed her as if he would never get the chance again, as if it might be her last kiss or his.

For all they knew, it just might be. There were no guarantees any treatment would work, that she'd even be here in a few more days. But at the moment she wasn't thinking about that, just savoring the moment. That's what she'd learned to do since her illness - savor every moment that came her way.

He drew back finally, not caring about quarantine, the virus or the possibility of catching it. He'd given her mouth to mouth for longer than the kiss, and thinking of that he chuckled. "You know," he whispered, gazing into her violet eyes, "you're going to be fine. You still owe me dinner." His hand brushed her face. He was so close that his words were spoken against her lips.

She didn't type, but mouthed the words to his lips. 'I haven't forgotten.'

He wanted to kiss her again, but he remembered where they were and what kind of state she was in and he reluctantly sat back, his heart was racing. He still held her hand but he was totally self-conscious now...out on a limb, just hanging there. What would happen now? His eyes held that question, though he was afraid to ask it. Did it change anything? He knew it would for him...but for her? He couldn't forget that she was with the Vulcan...or that she had feelings for his commanding officer.

She smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze. She saw the look in his eyes, could see his mind racing with questions. 'Don't think about tomorrow,' she typed. 'Simply enjoy the moment as it comes.'

He nodded, a sadness in his eyes. He knew now that she'd only allowed him to kiss her because she wasn't thinking that there would be a tomorrow. She had kissed him because she thought she was going to die and that was all. She'd taken pity on him. He smiled to cover his lapse. "I'd better go." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "You need rest."

She saw the change in his expression, and didn't know why it was there. She kept hold of his hand, not letting it go. 'What's wrong?' she typed. Had she said something wrong? Had she inadvertently hurt him somehow? She didn't know.

"Nothing." He smiled. "Honestly. You do need rest...and I'm being selfish keeping you up when you need rest to recover." He squeezed her hand.

'Ok.' She nodded. She was just glad he was all right, and was hoping to see Saavar and Ben soon, too. She would take his advice and rest for now. She returned his squeeze with a smile.

Sorg Jurell nodded and gave her a smile. "I'll see you later," he said and walked out of Sickbay with a lost expression on his face. He wanted to be alone for a while.

She watched him go, her smile fading. Something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what. She closed her eyes to rest, she'd worry about it later.

"Relief"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Lieutenant j.g. Allison Jacobs; Medical Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.20 08h26

***

Farrell sat on the edge of the bed in his shorts, letting doctor Jacobs work. He glanced at the overhead light briefly, stretching his neck. The light was at normal intensity, and he was grateful. He blinked heavily, and worked his mouth to get the dryness out, his face screwing up sourly at the metallic taste of his tongue. Jacobs was using an awful lot of topical anesthetic on him, and he was starting to feel it deeper than he probably should.

A shadow fell over him, and he focused on its source. A fine figure, topped by a pleasant head, framed with blonde hair, and possessing the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"You look a darn sight better than me, I imagine," he croaked.

Ainsley looked him over; he had tons and tons of tiny cuts, scrapes and burns all over him. "What happened?" she asked, her concern evident in her voice. She'd gone by the Ops office and his quarters and when she hadn't found him there she'd asked the computer where he was. When it had informed her that he was in sickbay she hadn't even considered the possibility that he might be hurt, she had just assumed that he was fixing something for them.

"I got caught in a corridor when all the local circuits blew. Fragments," he added lamely, waving a hand at his face. "Doctor Jacobs here assures me I'll be fine," he added, mustering a grin.

Ainsley stepped a little closer, making sure not to get in the nurse's way, but wanting to touch Mason. She lightly touched his cheek with her fingers., "How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"They've got me covered in this antiseptic anesthetic goo," Mason said, enunciating the big words slowly and pointing at one particularly bad cut that glistened beneath its layer of gel.

"I really need you to hold still," Jacobs said, for what sounded like the hundredth time.

"Sorry," Mason said, dropping his hand. "So," he said to Ainsley, his voice light while the doctor worked, "how was your day?"

Ainsley giggled a little and she heard Jacobs stifle her own laugh. "Tiring."

"I hear that," Mason said. "I think I've only got enough energy left for one more thing, in fact."

"Just one thing?" she asked with a grin. "Anything in particular?"

"Ensign!" Doctor Jacobs exclaimed. The man slid off the biobed and wrapped Ainsley in a crushing hug, cutting off her squeal with a hearty kiss. He was a touch clumsy, as he was slick and slightly numb, and he left a transferred coat of antiseptic goo on Ainsley's uniform, but the gesture was heartfelt.

"Ick!" she said as she wiped a spot of goo off her cheek, grinning the entire time. "Now get your butt back up there and let the doctor do her job before you get me kicked out of here as a disturbance!"

Mason guffawed his way back onto the bed, and Jacobs eye-rollingly got back to work. "Counselor Chambers here's not being a disturbance, is she?" he asked.

"You don't want me to answer that," Jacobs answered with a smirk.

"Hey," Farrell called to the man laying swathed in bandage foam in the next bed. The crewman did not move, but turned his head just enough to see Farrell. "Did it bother you that I kissed Counselor Chambers here?"

The crewman said nothing, but smiled and lifted his fist, thumb up. Farrell laughed deeply, and Jacobs grunted her displeasure and sat back, setting her dermal regenerator on a tray with a disappointed "Mister Farrell, please."

"Alright, alright," Farrell said, settling back into being still, and looking again at Ainsley.

She just looked back at him and smiled, shaking her head slightly at him. He was such a hoot to be around and found she was really starting to love being with him.

Her forehead creased suddenly as she realized what she had thought. She loved being with him. This was the second time in recent memory that she'd used the L-word when thinking about Mason.

"I'm glad you're all right," he smiled, the affection in his eyes. "I --" he cut himself off and glanced away for a moment. She fancied she heard the barest ghost of an 'L' in the lost word. "I'm glad you're safe," he amended, his voice gentle and caring as he met her eyes again.

She put her hand over his, which he was resting on his thigh. "I'm glad you're safe too. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you." The stress of the last few days had built up and she felt her eyes fill up with unshed tears. "Damn!" she said and looked away from Mason. "Ignore me, I'm just tired."

He moved his other hand to her cheek, and gently turned her to face him. They held each other's gaze for a few moments, and then smiled as one.

"You're the best, Ainsley," he whispered.

She laughed softly and wiped the remainder of the tears out of her eyes. "I think you hit your head a little too hard." She grinned at him and then she lifted his hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it.

He gently stroked her cheek with a finger, and then glanced at Jacobs. "I ought to let the doctor here finish. Call you later?"

"Alright," Ainsley replied. "When you're feeling better maybe we can do something."

"No 'maybe' about it," Mason winked. "Now go on, before the doctor here makes a scene."

Jacobs snorted at Mason's comment and Ainsley giggled. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it then," she said as Jacobs rolled her eyes again. "Don't pick on the nice doctor too much, Mason."

He watched her go, and sat very obediently for the doctor.

"Kitten"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief
Commander Lyrr Tayla - Executive Officer

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 09h16

***

The ethereal, hazy glow convinced her she was caught in a vision by the Prophets, though why they would come to her, she did not know. She'd never experienced a vision for herself, but she imagined this was what those who had been visited by the Prophets witnessed while in their divine grip.

Expecting to see her parents, Lyrr Tayla was disappointed when the only thing staring back at her was a dreary gray ceiling, and instead of the euphoria that should have accompanied such a profound encounter, there was a dull pain dispersed across her chest. She groaned and brought a heavy, unsteady hand to her bosom. Beneath her fingertips was the coarse, thin fabric of a medical gown; the memories returned far too quickly and had her mind spinning. The power conduit spraying her with electricity, then a vague reminiscence of the ship, dark and turbulent.

Thankfully she remembered little of the excruciating pain or anything in between, but what her memory did supply her with was knowledge of Matt leaning over her, his mouth moving as he spoke the words: Self-destruct. With a gasp, Lyrr flew upright. Fresh bursts of pain spread over her chest, and barely smothering a cry, Lyrr bent over herself while clutching at the bedsheet with one fist, and the fabric over her chest with the other. A Bajoran curse or two was thrown in for good measure.

The curse woke him. Benedict sat up in the chair he'd fallen asleep in. It had been a few hours since he'd heard that Tayla had been injured. By the time he reached Sickbay she had been operated on and fully sedated, and so he'd sat beside her after being told firmly that she was going to be fine. He'd fallen asleep with one hand holding hers.

As she cursed in pain he stood and reached out for her, gently pulling her back to the bed. "Hey...." His face was full of concern. "Lay down...everything is okay. It's all over." He looked into her dark eyes and gave her a tired smile. One hand brushed her cheek. His eyes took in the features of her face as he'd done while she had been sleeping. His chest ached again with the fullness of his emotions. It had been a long night, and knowing that she had been caught in a Jeffries tube and electrocuted, the possibility that she could have died alone.. it distressed him more than he could adequately process with his foggy mind. All he knew was that his love was hurt and that she had technically died. She'd died...

Lyrr blinked away the remaining haze slowly and found that her voice cracked when she spoke. "Ben?" she whispered. Her eyes shifted briefly from him to her surroundings, confirming that she was indeed in sickbay. She sighed and turned her gaze to him again. "What are you doing here?" she asked softly, the next thought to come to mind.

He smiled. "Where else would I be Love?" He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. "You could have died." He whispered, his eyes searching hers, he leaned in and kissed her lips softly; they were dry but they were alive and warm. He felt an overwhelming concern for her as he laid his forehead against hers, thankful that she was okay. Prophets save me from that, he prayed fervently.

"Not even close," she muttered and found soothing comfort in his proximity. It was only once her mind was at peace did the events of the past day come rushing back. She opened her eyes quickly and twisted her head away from his. "The ship? Are we okay?" More significantly, she asked quietly, "Are we okay?"

"The ship is fine now...everything is okay." He lost his smile for a moment as his heart started to race with her question. "You tell me," he whispered. "Are we okay?" She could see the fear that was in his eyes and the love.

Lyrr swallowed hard and lowered her gaze to both of her hands, wrenching the sheets nervously. "I don't know," she whispered. "I was just doing my duty...but everything else was just getting in the way and I'm not even sure if what I did was right...." She sighed and frustration twisted her features. "I can't afford to doubt, and I can't afford to let my emotions cloud my judgement...and I might just have." Lyrr hesitated to meet T'Kal's stare, and when she did, she began trembling. "Ben...what do we do? You have to tell me, because I don't know."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "You have to trust me to do my duty," he said quietly. "It has nothing to do with us." He stroked her cheek, gazing into her eyes. "Just because I'm with you, doesn't mean that you have to try to second guess my actions, or try to shield me from making bad choices. I don't need that. You said that we have to separate our duty from our relationship. As the XO I will obey your orders and carry out my duties. I won't take you for granted like Tagliesh does the captain. Last night I was following the captain's orders, and if killing the three entities in the ship's systems was required I would have done it. It's never that simple. As Starfleet Officers we are bound to the principles of the Federation. We are sworn to uphold those principles, especially with First Contact. We managed to save the ship and them - and they are the key to unlocking their entire culture. Last night...was last night.... A lot of things happened. We got through it." He didn't want to lecture here, or argue, but he had needed to say those things. Now they seemed inconsequential to what he needed to say next. "I love you," he said in a whisper. "That's all I care about right now."

"Because I almost died?" she asked skeptically. "Or because you really mean that? You accused me of letting our relationship influence my decision last night. Perhaps that's true...perhaps it isn't. But is that what you believe?" Lyrr's eyes shone with sorrow and her voice quavered as she asked, "If that's what you truly believe, Ben...then love or not, we have a problem, and I'm afraid there's only one solution right now...as painful as it might be."

"If that's truly how you feel," he said, looking into her eyes. His eyes were searching hers, but the hint of what her words entailed caused a physical pain. He was just coming to terms with almost losing her, he sure as hell didn't want to let her go, and he wasn't about to allow her to let him go easily either! "You know how I feel about you. One argument or disagreement about a course of action isn't going to change that. Does it change the way you feel about me? Or are you looking for a way out?"

"What?" Lyrr's incredulous laugh expressed her surprise. With quite a struggle and a partially successful attempt to stave off the pain, Lyrr pushed herself up onto her elbows to regard T'Kal directly. "I care for you," she whispered. "I've lost so many I cared for and I know how much that hurts. Why in all hells would I deliberately want to push you away and do that to myself again - or to you? I just...I don't want to butt heads with you everytime I have to deliver a command. I have to know that you respect my authority, Ben, and that you won't question my decisions unless there are truly grounds to." Lyrr took in a deep breath to slow her frantic heart, finally reaching out to touch Ben's cheek. "Don't make me doubt us, Ben," she whispered. "Please, don't."

He took hold of her hand and sat beside her on the bed. "Okay, let's look at last night," he said carefully. "The captain made it clear to me that we had to find a solution. It's my job to raise concerns with him and you. I have a duty to present ideas and that is exactly what I did. I raised the concern that the entities were sentient. It was not my observation that they were sentient, it was Sam's. He made it clear to me that they behaved in a manner that he believed was sentient. I had to trust his assessment because he's the expert in that area. Just as I had to trust Tagliesh's assessment that the planet was safe. I have to trust those officers who have expertise beyond my own. The Captain had me commanding the finding of that solution, but in reality Sam was running the show. He's the computer expert and he had me assisting, even though I had responsibility for it. It was my responsibility to raise that concern with Salinger. If they were sentient, then First Contact protocols demand that we try to communicate, and we did. Believe me, if it came to a decision between saving the ship and terminating them I would have done it without a second thought. Why did you think I wasn't doing what I was supposed to?" He was idly stroking her hand, feeling the soft skin and the warmth, only a part of his mind occupied with the discussion. He was amazed at how physically aware of her he was.

Lyrr shrugged lightly and lowered her eyes sullenly. "You seemed opposed to my position in the staff meeting," she admitted. "I wasn't sure if you were doing it to convince Captain Salinger that you were above letting our relationship interfere with your judgement, or if it was how you really felt. I had to be sure...and I think I tried to force your hand a little." Again her gaze found his and there was clear remorse there. "I didn't want you doing the wrong thing because of us. In my own way...I was protecting you. I had to."

He put his arms around her and drew her into his chest. "Not everything is about our relationship, Love," he said with a chuckle. "I wasn't even considering us. Please...when it comes to duty I'm not going to do anything except my best. If I oppose your ideas it's not because of our relationship, and you forget, it's Salinger's job to make the decisions. He made the choice and I had to do as he ordered. It's that simple. He didn't distrust my call and I don't expect you to. If Salinger makes a choice based on information given, then it's his choice. You have to let it go at that and take the us out of it." He drew back slightly and looked into her eyes. For a moment he studied those tiny motes of gold in the depths of her chocolate colored eyes, his smile was slightly bemused. "I love you," he whispered and he kissed her, a soft caress of lips that lingered as he drew comfort from her response.

Lyrr was grateful his arms were there to keep her upright, and for reassurance. The kiss alone was enough to banish any lingering pain, and definitely any doubts; as her arms looped around his neck, Lyrr also forgot entirely where they were and who might be spying them. It was a marked change from when she and Ben had last been together, in that corridor, sharing insults. She never again wanted the last thought in her mind to be that Ben was angry with her. The fear she had experienced in the Jefferies Tube returned when the memory of her last conscious moments did, and her kiss increased in fervour. On her lips, for the first time, was a reciprocation of Ben's sentiments, but she was too engrossed in the embrace to dare pull away for even a moment. She was determined to survive long enough to find the next perfect moment for an admission of love, and in that time, she would make certain it was real.

He parted from the kiss reluctantly, but he knew that she was in pain and he gently pushed her down. Only then did he realise that there were others in Sickbay watching them. He chuckled as held her hand and smiled down at her. "It's been a hell of a night. You should rest some more - and I've got to get some sleep." He kissed her fingers. "You'll be in here a day or so, they tell me."

"A day or so?" Lyrr snorted and shook her head defiantly. "I'm not dead and won't be anytime soon. Find me a uniform, and we can leave together."

He grinned at her bravado, knowing full well that there was no way she'd get out of bed. She didn't know how close she had come. "No way, Commander. You died a short time ago and they brought you back. You suffered second degree burns and they will take time to fully heal. Moving around will tear the new skin and leave scars. You have enough of those. Doctor's orders, and I will back those orders with force if necessary! You stay right here! Two days at least. No arguments." He didn't know that her scars had been removed yet.

Lyrr's eyes studied Ben with mild bemusement and a touch of wonderment. "I died?" she whispered, the strange taste of the words making her tongue numb. Lyrr transferred her distant gaze to the ceiling of the sickbay, reconciling the idea in her mind. "I died," she repeated slowly. A wan smile parted her lips. "I've never died before." Her features sobered and again she looked upon Ben, now with a fierce determination. "And I'm not going to again, especially not while you and I are angry with one another. Promise me we won't let that happen again."

His smile broadened and he felt relieved. He didn't ever want that to happen again either. While she had been fresh from surgery he had been thinking those same thoughts. He would have felt guilty. "I promise never to be angry with you when we run the risk of dying. Any arguments we might have prior to any hostile engagement will be immediately called off." His tone was filled with amusement. "Perhaps we could even postpone the hostile engagement until after we solve our argument?" He laughed. "Tayla, we're always going to argue, but it doesn't mean that I love you any less for it!" He grew serious. "Know that no matter what happens, it won't change how I feel about you. That's unconditional. Okay?"

"Okay," she answered slowly, skeptically. "That'll take some getting used to...but I'll try."

"Trust me," he grinned. "The only way you're getting away from me is if one of us dies...and I'm not about to let that happen. I owe Finn a debt. It was he that found you. He carried you all the way here. Look, I know sometimes it's been difficult Tayla. I know I'm difficult at times...but it's perfectly acceptable to have opposing points of view. Don't expect me to go along with every suggestion you make. I may have ideas of my own, but always know that once a decision is made, once the order is given, I'll do my duty. Trust in that, Love. Remember; separate us from duty. Keep our duty arguments professional. I won't compromise you. I won't ever rely on our relationship to get some slack, or maneuver around it. I'm not like that. You should know that by now."

She smiled wanly. "Well...maybe I don't know you as well as you think just yet. When I'm up and around again, we should probably talk. I don't think we've done enough of that lately." Finding his cheek with her hand, she added with a grin, "Which means I'll have to thank Finn another time. A quiet dinner alone with you comes first."

He nodded. "Talking's good." He gave her a sly grin. "Not that we do anything else. Honestly, that's a good thing," he said quietly but seriously. "When they told me you almost didn't make it...." He shook his head, his eyes haunted by the fear of it. "I can't imagine life without you now. It's almost as if you've always been there. I can't think of you not being there." He really couldn't. Not anymore. There had been a time when a part of him was empty, and now it was refilled.

"Then I will be," she assured him with a warm smile. "I'm far more resilient than I appear." Patting his cheek, Lyrr said, "Now, go on. I know you have better things to do than tend to me. Besides, I can't weasel my way out of here with you hovering about."

He chuckled. "I'll post a security officer in here to make sure you stay then." He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "Be a good girl and obey the doc. Remember she's going to know what you're thinking, so don't even try it." He kissed her a second time just for the hell of it, not caring if anyone saw him. "I'll be by after shift finishes."

"I'll make sure I'm here then," she promised with a less than innocent grin. As he backed away, she called out, "And bring me some clothes, will you?"

"No way," he shot back. "You look cute in that little backless number, besides, you're less likely to escape." He grinned. "I'll make sure there's a skirted uniform waiting for you when you're ready to leave."

"There'd better not be," Lyrr warned, a glint in her eye, "Benny."

He shot her a mock glare, and grinned. "See you later, Kitten!" He said it loud enough for some of the medical staff to hear as he sauntered out of Sickbay.

One of the nurses giggled and covered her mouth as she looked away from Lyrr Tayla. An Operations Officer laying on a nearby biobed just grinned. Lyrr Tayla swept a sobering glare over them all to regain order, then sighed and returned her attention to the ceiling.

The pain Ben's presence had allayed was returning slowly, but still a smile stretched her lips. Absently, her fingers went to the wrist bearing the bracelet Ben had gifted her. There was only minor panic when she noticed it was missing. She was certain the doctor had removed it during treatment, though she hoped it was safe. Even if it wasn't, she mused, Ben would still be around to give her another. She imagined he would be for a long time coming, and the comfort accorded her by the thought alone was enough to draw her to the brink of sleep. The fond smile lighting her face remained.

"The Girl Who Can't Quite Remember How She Got Hurt"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd - Engineer's Mate

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.20, 10h55

***

Nurse Sefton was mid-conversation with Corran about what they should eat for lunch, when he noticed the doors from Sickbay's waiting room part. Sefton shot Corran a telepathic ~Be right back~, and then bounded over to the entering woman in engineer gold. His grimace fluctuating between polite cheer and pained empathy, Cristobel asked her, "Where does it hurt?"

Caly had spent the early morning since the crisis in Engineering helping with cleanup and repairs. She'd been putting off getting her wound tended until she was no longer needed. Or rather until she could feel comfortable taking a much needed break. She halted her forward progress at Cristobel's grimace and question and flashed him a half startled look of surprise, not used his brand of greeting. It was accompanied by a grin however, and a very light pop of her gum. She had smudges on her cheeks and neck and looked a little weary around the eyes. Definitely showing her age today.

"My back, sir. Got a bit of a burn on it," she told him. She'd rather be down in Engineering, but not because she had anything against medical personnel, it was simply a matter of taking time away from something she'd rather be doing instead. None of that showed in her demeanor however, and she was quite pleasant about having to be there.

"Right over there, please." Cristobel indicated a free biobed several paces away by tossing his PADD onto it, without looking. Deholstering his medical tricorder, he brought it to bare and asked, "How'd that happen? Warp Plasma Gnomes?"

Caly turned her head and watched as the PADD landed. "Good shot." She quirked a brow at him and grinned as she moved over and hopped up on the biobed. "Aye, sir. Wee ones." She held her hand up and indicated roughly four or five inches by holding her thumb and middle finger apart. "About so big."

"Nasty little buggers," Sefton muttered, tapping the biobed's controls to raise the opaque privacy field. Glancing between the biobed's monitor and the charred back of her uniform jacket, Cris asked, "When did it happen? Does it still hurt?"

"More like - It hurts now, and I'm not exactly sure when it happened. Sometime in the middle of the night, so several hours ago at least," she told Sefton, peering over between what he was tapping and what she could see of the readings. Curious mostly.

"It's looking like second degree burns. Not too serious. We shouldn't have to keep you here once the treatment's finished," Cris explained lightly, and then non sequitured, "Can you take off your shirts?"

The thought that she might have to stay had never entered her mind, so she blinked at his pronouncement. "Well, I'm relieved about that. Yes, sir." She nodded and gingerly removed her uniform jacket, wincing a bit as her movements irritated the burn. "How long will the treatment take?" she asked. She laid the jacket aside and proceeded to casually pull off her shirt, seemingly unembarrassed and still wincing a bit from the pain.

His thoughts on the procedure itself, rather than the time it would take, Cristobel only devoted a small portion of his consciousness towards carelessly wording a reply, "Uhm, ten... hours and sixteen microseconds? No. Probably something around ten to twenty minutes, but I, first, have to get approval on the drugs." After a quick consult with Doctor Jacobs and a holler towards an equipment-carrying medical technician, Cristobel gave Caly a shot of acinolyathin for the pain, and then began spraying antimicrobial silvadene onto her back to disinfect the burn.

"So how long have you been battling warp plasma gnomes?" Cristobel asked blithely.

Caly grinned at his carelessly worded reply, liking his sense of humor already. She grimaced at the shot, more because it was a shot than because it hurt, and she shivered when the spray hit her overly warm back, goosebumps rising lightly on the petite engineer's arms. "Oh... A good ten years now... Going on eleven, sir," she answered and peered over her shoulder at what he was doing.

"Any particularly notable battle scars I won't see because of this fine art of medicine?" Cristobel asked, continuing to spray on the silvadene.

Green eyes continued to watch him over her shoulder as he worked. "I have a burn scar on my left thigh and a climbing scar on my right hip. Neither of them are notable though," she told him with a small smile. "Will that one scar?" she nodded towards her back, her question one of curiosity rather than vanity.

"Not at all," Cristobel assured her, as he almost finished disinfecting the burn. "I suppose..." - Cris held the thought for some moments, while he had to switch off the spray canister for a handled dermal regenerator. Once he precisely calibrated it, he exposed its bioregenerative field to Boothroyd's back - "...the battle that caused this burn was simply not mythic enough to leave a scar. I mean, you wake up in bed with a new lover, and how would you explain the scar? Um, I think I got it that time the Sulu was trying to kill us all. I can't really remember. I didn't so much hurt or scare or surprise or defeat or itch when I first got it."

Caly blinked and laughed softly at his teasing. "Aye, sir," she grinned and nodded her head. Her normally rampant, disjointed and multitasking thoughts stilled and centered on him now. "But I'd leave off the not remembering part. And then he'd be, Your ship tried to kill you all? Which, of course, would start a whole new conversation and I'd become the girl who narrowly escaped the rabid Sulu. Which sounds better than, The girl who can't quite remember how she got hurt. Although I have to admit that does happen a lot."

"...Happen a lot in or out of bed?" Cristobel asked, more curious than scandalous, but soft enough for the other nurses to miss it.

Caly blinked and then laughed in genuine amusement, the sound light and rather melodious. She liked him. "Out, sir," she grinned as she answered his question.

"Good, good," Sefton muttered, nodding with a grin of his own as he continued to operate the dermal regenerator along her back.

"Are things getting back to normal here, sir?" she asked. "I understood there were a few problems during the crisis. How are the plague victims doing? I'm afraid I didn't know much about that, but I did happen to hear of it," she admitted. "Is the plague under control?"

Nodding more surely, Sefton responded, "The gene therapies have all been successful on our quarantined patients, and the simulations are looking shiny for the one patient whose treatment is not yet prepared: Shirik Lektar."

"Is it still---" Then his words sank in and she blinked, turning to look at him, green eyes wide. "Wait, wait. Ensign Shirik Lektar? About so high," she held a hand up at the appropriate height. "Black skin, white hair? She's here?" She reached for her shirt and started to get off the bed. "Where? Can I see her? Is she going to be alright?"

"Same Shirik. She's in private exam three, and is expected to recover," Sefton answered awkwardly, attempting to get a few last shots of the bioregenerative field across Caly's moving back, knowing he wouldn't get another chance with his determined patient.

If he ordered her, he could, and she'd most likely grudgingly comply. The petite engineer hopped off the bed and pulled on her shirt, finally stopping as she grabbed for her jacket and turned fully to look at Cris, concentrating on him. "Thank you, sir, for what you did." She smiled and it was hard to tell by her words if she was speaking about herself or Shirik.

She looked at her jacket before tugging it on and then back to him. "Is there somewhere I can clean up before I see her? I don't want her to worry."

"All of the private rooms dedicated to isolation, but there's always the lavatory," Cris suggested, as he snapped off the dermal regenerator, followed by the privacy screen.

"Thank you, sir. I can make that work." She smiled and offered her hand. "Calyca Boothroyd, sir," she introduced herself.

"No, that's pronounced Cris-to-bel. I'm Cristobel Sefton and you are?" he teased, taking her hand between both of his own and offering a gleaming smile.

Caly blinked and laughed again. That light, melodious sound rang out from the petite woman before him. "It is a pleasure, Cris-to-bel Sefton," she grinned. "Caly-ca. But most people call me Caly or Booter."

"Well then, Caly, you're free to check up on your friend," Cristobel announced.

"Thank you, sir." She saluted lightly and found a lavatory to wash the smudges off her face and tidy her uniform before going to see Shirik.

"A Familiar Face"
By: Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd - Engineering
And Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: USS Sulu Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.20, 11h30

***

She couldn't believe she'd been here for a little over three weeks (Had it only been three weeks?), and hadn't known Shirik was aboard. Granted things had been hectic for a good portion of that time, but Calyca was still chastising herself for being grossly clueless about the Drokari's presence. She stopped in the quarantine room doorway and just looked at Shirik for several long moments before she stepped inside, closed the door softly, and spoke. When she did her voice was a bit rougher around the edges than normal.

"You look like something the Gunthar drug in, Shiri." The petite engineer made her way over to the side of the bed and smiled faintly at her friend, her hand reaching out to touch the dark-skinned woman's arm. "Mik'ves nim..." she said in Drokari. *I missed you.*

Shirik looked up as another visitor stepped inside, and her eyes widened in surprise. Her mouth moved, but no words came out, and she started tapping frantically on the PADD in her lap.

'Caly! When did you come aboard? What are you doing here?' A delighted grin lit up her face, and she clasped Calyca's arm with her free hand. 'I am *so* glad to see you.'

Green eyes scanned the PADD just enough to get the gist of what Shirik typed before she settled on the side of the bed and enveloped the other woman in a hug. Not a long drawn out hug, but a genuine hug just the same.

Shirik returned the hug as best she could. She really *was* glad to see her friend.

Caly thought Shirik was a sight for sore eyes. "Right before the wormhole, and I'm visiting you," she grinned and released her. "I didn't know you were here or I would have come sooner." She looked a bit sheepish. "What *have* you been doing to wind up..." she gestured around the quarantine room, "..here of all places?"

She shook her head. 'There's so much to tell. I got assigned to my first away mission, and caught myself an alien plague.' She smiled faintly. 'It's fatal... I'm undergoing some kind of genetic therapy this afternoon, but if it doesn't work...' She knew she didn't need to fill in the rest.

Caly blinked as she read the PADD and her eyes swung up to Shirik's. "You are *not* going to die," her voice was strong and assured. She smiled at Shirik and tugged her hair. "Who am I going to pick on if you do, huh? So no dying. Besides, I've read up on the head doc here. She's good. Knows her stuff. I have confidence that it's going to work." She was worried though and tried not to let it show in her eyes or expression.

Shirik smiled faintly. 'I don't wish to. Dr. Sefton is skilled, but I'm prepared if the therapy doesn't work. I prepared a will.'

That bit of news made Caly frown. "It's going to work," she repeated quietly. "But I suppose having a will is a good thing regardless." She tugged her hair again in an affectionate way. "Braidless, huh? What else have you been up to besides getting infected with alien bugs?" She tickled Shirik's neck with the end of her hair to hopefully get a smile out of her.

'I haven't had the energy or inclination to braid it while I've been here,' she said about her hair. She smiled faintly, but her eyes were haunted. 'There are so many things I need to talk to you about. A lot has happened since I saw you last. But I can't talk about them here. If" - at this point she went back and erased the 'If' - 'When I get out of here, I want to have a long talk with you, in private.'

Caly read what Shirik wrote, glad at the erasure, and quirked a brow at her in a 'oh *do* tell' kind of way. Her curiosity was decidedly piqued by those seemingly innocent words. "Define 'a lot'. In generic terms, of course," she smiled ."Or teach me to read Drokari and you can tell me in code," she grinned and winked.

'I've made some friends here,' she typed, but something in her eyes told Caly there was a lot behind those few words. 'I'm not entirely sure how to deal with them. You know that social interactions have never been my strong point.'

Caly settled in beside Shirik so she could read while the other woman typed away on her PADD. "Nooo... Definitely not a strong point. You could try threatening them like you did me," she grinned. Her fingers combed through the silken white tresses until any and all tangles were gone and then she began to quietly braid her hair. "Look what happened with that."

'Who says I didn't?' she smiled. She relaxed a bit as Caly worked on her hair. Caly was probably the only woman in the universe outside her family she would allow to touch it. 'There are three people on this ship I consider friends now...all of them male.' She let that sink in, knowing she wouldn't need to say more than that to get what she meant across.

Caly's fingers stilled for a moment and her eyes widened as that *did* sink in. "Holy mother...." She leaned around and looked at Shirik's face and eyes. "You *have* been busy... Now you have my curiosity running rampant and you're going to make me wait to find out all the juicy details, aren't you? You are a wicked, wicked woman, Shirik Lektar," she hmphed softly and popped her gum, clearly teasing as her fingers went back to their assigned task.

Shirik grinned, a truly wicked glimmer in her eyes. 'I'm not about to give the rumor mill any *more* fuel. The nurses around here are notorious gossips. Besides, I want to be able to breathe and talk again before I get into *that*.'

The petite engineer looked towards the door leading into Sickbay proper. "They are, are they?" She hmmm'd thoughtfully and got a wicked gleam in her eyes. "You know... I have some really *wicked* thoughts sometimes. I think you're a bad influence on me," she nodded sagely. "Maybe I'll camp out in here and give them something to really gossip about," she grinned. "You know... Throw them off the scent."

She grinned. 'I don't think it would much matter, and Dr. Sefton would probably have you tossed out before long. They don't let my visitors stay very long, usually. I need my rest, you know.'

"Yeah? But I'd be good for you," she teased and lightly brushed a pointed ear with the tail of one braid hank. "Are all your other visitors males?"

Shirik flinched away from the touch to her ear, shooting Caly a warning look. 'Don't play with my ears,' she typed. She nodded. 'Like I said, all my friends here are males. Except now that you're here.'

"I'll behave," she smiled and went back to braiding. "Hmmm... Will I balance things out, do you think?" she asked rather seriously. "Or is there a *lot* of testosterone to combat? Maybe I should work out or something..."

She grinned. 'I think the two of us can take on any three males.' She thought for a moment. 'You probably haven't met any of them yet. They work in security and science.'

Caly paused in her braiding long enough to 'flex' one arm. "Oh yeah. No problem," she grinned and winked at Shirik. "I've met just a few people actually," she admitted. "A wacky head-doctor named Potts, who I think is a hoot by the way, several of the other engineers, my boss, who I like already, and the male nurse," she nodded to the door.

She rolled her eyes. 'Counselors. I had the misfortune to be stuck in an escape pod with him. Luckily he was distracted by Dr. Sefton. I've not yet met Lt. Thaine, but he is on my list of people to speak to. Cris Sefton and I have a tentative friendship of sorts. I don't know him very well, but I do trust him so far.'

If Caly remembered her reading correctly, and she generally did, then Nurse Sefton was Betazoid. "Hmmm... Now *that* says something, given that he's Betazoid," she observed in a quietly thoughtful sort of way, which put Cris in an entirely different light. "In defense of Potts, you wouldn't care much for *anyone* who wanted to crawl around inside you head," she teased a little. "I loved his office. He about threw a book at me... Or blackjacked me," she chuckled as she remembered her meeting with the assistant counselor. "I think you'll like the Lieutenant. I was favorably impressed with him. The man keeps his head in a crisis."

'He and I have an agreement where the privacy of my thoughts is concerned,' she typed. 'As for Potts, if I never see him again that will be fine with me.' She nodded at Caly's assessment of Thaine. 'I've been meaning to volunteer some time in engineering, when I can get to see him. Now I have extra incentive for doing so," she smiled at her friend.

Caly nodded her approval at Shirik's agreement with Cris, glad that her friend was softening some towards Betazoids and understanding her reasons for being so staunchly against them. Or rather against telepathy. "Uh-oh... Do I detect a huge clash between you and Dr. Potts?" she asked curiously as she read and started to tie off the end of her braid. "Great, I'll look forward to working with you," she grinned. She and Shirik had worked well together in the past and Caly admired the woman's skill.

'Yes. He did something that hurt my roommate, Raina.' It was clear that was all she was going to say on the subject at the moment. 'Thanks for the braid.'

"Oh, that's not good," she frowned and nodded her understanding and acceptance. "You're welcome. It felt good to do," she admitted with a smile. "Do I need to let you rest? They won't come in and kick me out, will they?" Caly looked a bit tired around the eyes herself.

'They might,' she typed. 'You look like you could use a nap yourself. Maybe you should go catch some shuteye while you can.'

"You know me, Shiri." She settled back and smiled at the Drokari woman. "I'm a cat-nap kind of girl. Want me to stay till you fall asleep?"

'No, I have some writing and thinking to do, so I won't be sleeping right away. Go, get your nap, and I'll talk to you later. I'll let you know how the therapy goes.'

"Mmm..." She covered a yawn and gave Shirik a stern look although it wasn't serious by any means. "What time's the therapy? I'll check up on you." And she would because Shirik might be out of it and not able to let her know anything. But she didn't say that, not wanting her friend to become morose. She slipped from the bed and straightened her uniform, trying to brush work smudges from it to no avail.

She shot her a look and gave her a poke in the side. '1500. Dr. Sefton says it's just a hypospray, nothing big. Don't know how long it will be before we know if it worked.'

Caly squeaked and covered her side with one hand while the other made a grab for the offending finger, shooting Shirik a *look*. "Witch," she grinned and pointed a finger at her. "I'll be back after I sleep. You get some rest too," she said softly and gave Shirik's hand an affectionate squeeze.

Shirik smiled. 'Shas suk,' she typed. *Sleep well.*

"You too," she spoke quietly and her eyes stayed on Shirik for several moments before she turned and left her friend.

"Sorting Damage"
by Lieutenant Commander Damhnait Sefton
and Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 13h00

***

There were always two sorts of damage in a battle. As Chief Engineer, it was far too easy to only see one of the types, and forget about the other.

Thaine had served under men who, during the war, did their best to ignore the casualties. During the war, sometimes you had no other choice. If you read the lists every day, looked at every name, mourned every loss, you'd have been out there signalling surrender in no time at all. Those commanding officers who never ventured down into sickbay...he could understand them. The only difference was, he could never be one of them.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Mark Thaine couldn't shut out all his feelings, especially for the men and women who served under him. That sense of responsibility was very real; the sense that, in some way, however foolish a notion, the injuries, or worse, from the last battle were somehow his fault, his failure. And while greater men than he might be able to resist acting on those feelings...Mark Thaine could not.

And so it was, that as soon as Main Engineering had returned to some semblance of order, Mark Thaine left his damage reports and repair estimates for a world where the damage was altogether far more serious.

At first glance, the energy in Sickbay appeared to be frantic, but after some time of watching, a graceful pattern could be ascertained. Although some patients had been sent to their quarters, every patient in Sickbay had a place of his or her own; there was no shortage of beds. There was a shortage of doctors, but the nursing staff of the Sulu was sizeable and knowledgeable enough to manage. As such, Doctor Damhnait Sefton was sequestered within her office. The absolutely serious injuries from the morning had been dealt with, and so her focus had returned to genetic resequencing Drokari lungs.

It took more than few long strides for Thaine to cross Sickbay and reach Damhnait's office. With the door open, and far too exhausted from the early morning's events to bother with using the chime, he instead stepped slightly inside the office, and gave an old fashioned knock on the inside wall. "You busy, Commander?" he asked, when she looked up.

"Perpetually," Damhnait sighed good-humouredly. The sardonic smile spread across her face, similarly good-humouredly. "Alright. Are you here to repair my replicator, or do you want something?"

"Sorry...but yeah, I want something." He didn't return the smile. As the engineer stepped fully into the room, Damhnait realised the engineer was in something of a state of disarray. A cut on his forehead, the bleeding stopped, had been left untreated. A small patch of uniform on his arm had a faintly burned look, and judging from the way he was walking he had definitely managed to do something to his leg. "I heard you've got a couple of my folk down here. Engineers. I was hoping to get their status."

"The only Engineers we have kept are..." - Sefton quickly consulted her desktop terminal - "Ensign Thorpe, who broke both legs, and Ensign Hunter, who is being treated for a subdural hematoma."

"Subdural what?" asked the engineer, brow furrowing in a mixture of puzzlement and concern.

"He hit his head, and now there is a blood clot in his brain," Damhnait gently explained. "He should make a full recovery after his treatment."

Thaine nodded, relieved. "Well, that's alright at least. Things could have been worse."

Sefton nodded silently for a moment, her gaze drifting over Thaine's shoulder, and then drilling back to his eyes. "You know I won't be letting you out of here until you've been examined, right?"

"What are you talking about? I'm fine." The Chief folded his arms, and then winced, rather ruining his defiant stance. "Alright, alright. You can check me over. But make it quick. I've got repairs to get back to."

"Just as I have viral growths to get back to," Damhnait responded, trying to tauntingly temper his growl. In a fluid motion, she rose from behind her desk and revealed her medical tricorder to Thaine's most obvious injuries. "The biobeds and tricorders worked perfectly during the crisis, by the way. I wish I had had more of the medical equipment severed from the main computer. Your engineers were very efficient in removing all wireless access points; they got it done. I respect that."

"Well, from what I hear, your medics managed to patch up everyone who came in here pretty well. So, I guess that respect is mutual." He watched the medical tricorder warily. "I tell you though, I'm fine. Couple of cuts and scrapes, that's all."

"Couple of cuts and scrapes and burns and pulled muscles," Sefton corrected him. "How did you do all this?"

Mark was silent for a moment. Then, in a low voice which suggested a hint of wounded pride to go the with the other injuries, "Fell off a ladder."

"I'm sure the ship was shaking fiercely," Sefton offered consolingly.

Relieved to be offered a way out with at least some of his pride intact, Thaine nodded in agreement. "Exactly," he said.

Crewman Taylforth carted in the tools and pharmaceuticals that Damhnait had ordered with the communications capabilities of her tricorder. Once he left, Sefton immediately set to hypospraying Thaine and healing the burn to his arm, as she told him, "I have already put in a repair request to have the biobeds and tricorders fully reintegrated with the ship's systems again. The only difficulty we are finding, as expected, is that we cannot remotely access any of the biobed data without passing off isolinear chips. As such, I hope you will be relieved to hear that I've marked it as a low priority request, to be completed at Engineering's discretion."

"We'll get on it soon as we can." As he watched the doctor work, he asked, "I...heard Commander Lyrr ended up in here. Is that right?"

"She's in recovery; she'll be fine," Sefton assured Thaine. "We are trying to keep her comfortable and prevent her from exerting herself, but some of the latter prevents the former."

"I'll bet." Thaine looked almost approving of that. "Are you gonna let me have my arm back now?" he asked, sounding hopeful. "It's fixed, right?"

"It is," she agreed, rolling his charred sleeve back down over his forearm. Raising the dermal regenerator to quickly attend to the minor cuts on his face, which wouldn't need an autosuture, Sefton told him, "Since, I know I can't convince you to stay off your legs until the pulled muscle is healed, just let me spray-apply a frosty dermapatch, and then we'll be done."

Again, the engineer grudgingly agreed. Once done, and after stretching his arm experimentally, he gave a nod of thanks to the doctor. "Good as new," he commented. "Thanks. Pity all the damage we've taken can't be fixed so quick, huh?" he added.

Considering additional sorts of hurts, other than the physical or mechanical, Damhnait agreed, "It'd be some miracle if all the damage we've taken was washed away with the speed of a dermal regenerator, but I am certain that some of it can, and has."

"Wielding the Medical Discipline"
By: Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. Cmdr. Benedict T'Kal - Chief Security Officer
and Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Chief Medical Officer's Office and Private Exam Room Three
Stardate: 57908.20, 15h00

***

The hypospray positioned upright on Damhnait's desk was examined from almost every angle, until Sefton resolvedly placed it in the pocket of her pale blue medical smock. The environmental settings felt slightly off, too cool, but no one else noticed it. She knew a change in uniform wouldn't be enough to fight it; what she needed was action. No one who had been placed in her care had died that day, despite the mass exodus from their seemingly doomed ship. Sefton needed to keep it that way. Her choice to rise to her feet proved to be almost serendipitous, as she would have had to do so anyway if she had carefully noticed T'Kal entering Sickbay before coming into her office.

"Commander," Sefton said by way of greeting. "I hope I have not pulled you away from anything urgent?"

"Not at all," he smiled at the attractive Sefton as he entered her office. "What can I do for you, doc?"

"I thought it important to tell you in person that I relieved one of your crewmen of duty this morning," Sefton reported evenly. "He stood between my patients and the escape pods, and he threatened me with baseless charges at phaserpoint."

Benedict raised an eyebrow. That it happened as she said wasn't in doubt. That one of his security officers saw fit to draw a weapon on her was another matter entirely. "Who?" the single word came out sounding every bit as dangerous as his intentions toward said officer. His face had lost all humor and his hands went automatically behind his back to clasp together in frustration. This was the second incident report involving a security officer. He had yet to fully investigate the other.

"Ken Smith," Sefton responded. The mild cordiality that had been present in her manner faded as well. Selecting one of two PADDs from her desktop, she handed T'Kal her official report on the incident. "I admit, even in the report, that I was not handling the stress of the entire situation terribly professionally, but no one made any threatening movements towards him."

Benedict took the padd, nodding to her and then reading through it. He sighed heavily as he finished it and looked back at her. "I'm sorry this happened, Damhnait - Smith is fresh out of the academy. The Sulu is his first posting, and this is his first action. It won't happen again. By the looks of it he re-thought his actions, at least no one was hurt." He frowned and stepped a little closer, his voice quieter. "This is Smith's first mistake - he'll learn from it - but if this goes to Salinger, with everything else that's happened - it might just go badly enough to ruin a career." He stared her in the eyes. "He'll regret his actions - I'll make sure of it."

"Whatever you do, I want a degree of counselling involved," Damhnait stated, her gaze just as resolved as his. "If there is a risk of him displaying a predilection towards this style of behaviour, I must involve the command staff, but if this truly was an oddity brought on by admittedly extreme circumstances... Well, for the moment, the report only exists on that PADD in your hand." Sefton nearly had to fight off a smirk; Smith could very likely avoid serious trouble because of what got him into the trouble in the first place: Damhnait's priority for people ahead of policy.

Benedict nodded. "I appreciate that," he said seriously. "I'll take care of it. Mandatory counselling will be included." He gave the CMO a smile. "He'll never repeat the mistake. You can trust me on that."

"Then I will," Sefton asserted, but then was momentarily distracted by a chime on her desktop terminal.

"How is Shirik Lektar?" Benedict asked. "How's the treatment coming along?"

"It is complete," Sefton replied, revealing the hypospray from her smock's pocket. "I was about to ask you if you wanted to be present for the therapy."

He nodded. "Yes please." He held her eyes for a moment. "This will work won't it?" He was still worried. He didn't want to lose her - Shirik was a friend - a close friend.

"All of the tests and simulations have produced positive results," Damhnait said measuredly. Since the start of the virus crisis, she had always been quick to assure success in general, but knew it to be careless to act similarly in regards to the specific situations.

Benedict noted her caution, but nodded once more. "Let's do it then." He gave her a smile. "How soon do you think she'll be ready to return to duty?"

Rounding her desk to stride out of the office ahead of T'Kal, Sefton informed, "It will be at least a week before her lungs have been completely regenerated and rehabilitated."

"That's good to hear, doc." His voice was light and his smile was relieved. He followed her out and together they entered the confinement area that contained Shirik's bio bed.

As Sefton walked over to Shirik, Ben stopped just inside the room and nodded to her. His smile was warm. "Hey there," he said to Lektar. "The doc says you'll be up and around soon." He nodded to the doctor as she stepped close to Shirik.

Shirik looked up as the two of them entered, and offered a small nervous smile. She looked up to the doctor. 'How soon do you think we'll know if it worked?' she tapped out on her PADD.

Once she read over Shirik's PADD, Damhnait considered the hypospray in her palm, and responded, "Morning."

She nodded. 'Please proceed.'

Benedict just watched as Sefton applied the treatment. He gave a prayer to The Prophets that it would work as Sefton said it would and held Shirik's gaze. He smiled hopefully, giving her some confidence.

Shirik watched Ben as the hypospray hissed against her skin, and returned his smile with a small one of her own.

With the new benign adeno-associated virus quickly infecting Shirik's lungs, in order to reproduce healthy, differently-genomed cells in place of the damaged cells, Sefton turned her attention away from Shirik. The Doctor examined the wall cabinet to ensure enough provacillium had been replicated to be administered according to Sefton's strict schedule. The provacillium was meant to fight any attempts by Shirik's body to reject any of the gene therapy's mutations of her lungs.

Satisfied by the efforts of her medical technicians, Sefton returned her thoughts and gaze towards Shirik. "In addition to Mel'Chir and Yulik," Damhnait shared, "M'lira and Kremer are responding as expected to the treatment. In their lungs, the virus' reproduction has reduced to near nothing."

'That's good news,' she typed. And promising for her chances as well. But then she frowned slightly. 'I didn't realize so many had been ill,' she typed. She'd only known about herself and Mel'Chir.

"Yes..." The hope in Damhnait's voice and expression faded to darkness. For a moment, her eyes held on T'Kal, but then she looked down to her patient. "It seems none of the senior staff has kept their departments informed on my reports of the crew's medical status."

Shirik watched them for a moment, wondering at the look the doctor gave T'Kal. She shrugged. She'd had no contact with anyone from her department since coming to sickbay, other than the short visit by Mason Farrell. To her mind, the ones that needed to know her condition knew.

"Although the virus is serious, doctor, the senior staff have been a little busy with more pressing matters." Benedict looked down at Shirik. "Though I believe everyone is aware of the situation."

"Not until four days after the first infection," Sefton stated, refusing to have her point dismissed by current awareness or 'more pressing matters'. 'More pressing matters': The first contact with the computer lifeforms that no one had felt the Chief Medical Officer needed to be involved in or informed about. She spun back to the cabinet, and retrieved the first dosage of provacillium to administer to Shirik.

Benedict looked back at Sefton with surprise. "No, doctor - I believe the crew were made aware, but it was kept very low-key. One doesn't want to cause a ship-wide panic by announcing that we are a plague ship." He shook his head. "If the virus was deemed communicable to more races, then I would be most certain that its priority would have been greatly stressed. As it was, your skill in your field of expertise determined the danger very swiftly - and enabled us to act accordingly. Your efforts with this virus have been phenomenal, doctor - without your work Shirik would certainly be dead - along with everyone else who caught it. The fact that you were working toward a cure simply precluded you from anything else."

"But if there had been more awareness, perhaps Shirik would not have been infected. Or, at the least, would have come to Sickbay before her lungs had collapsed," Damhnait replied, guilt joining the chiding tone in her voice. She returned to Shirik's side to inject the provacillium.

Shirik shook her head, typing while she was injected. 'I ignored the few symptoms I had earlier, and would have either way. I was bound to come in the way I did. I just got lucky that I wasn't alone when it happened.'

"Yes," Benedict smiled at Shirik. He had to thank Jurell in a more fitting manner. He looked back at Sefton. "Don't beat yourself up, doc," his smile and tone were gentle. "No one died of this virus - I can't say the same for what happened elsewhere...." This time it was Benedict who sounded guilty. "I was commander of the Away Team."

Shirik rolled her eyes. All the wrong people were feeling guilty to her mind.

Sefton's eyes dropped down to her own PADD, which was tied into Shirik's biobed. "All of the readings associated with her lungs are going to be quite erratic over the next few hours." She looked to each of them. "Don't worry if it sets off some alarms."

"Well, I'm going to sack out." Benedict grinned. "I haven't slept since the day before yesterday. It's been a long day."

Shirik nodded and tried not to look disappointed. She had hoped he'd stay.

Nodding to each of them, Doctor Sefton went to attend to other patients and a certain object still sitting in the corner of her office, leaving Shirik and T'Kal alone.

He watched her leave and nodded to her as she stepped through the doors. Then he turned back to Shirik and stepped across to the bed, giving her a quick hug. He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand with a smile. "You'll be fine," he said and reached out to tap the pretty point of her nose. "I was concerned there for a moment...with last night and all. The evacuation...." He sighed, and his face looked haggard. "Tayla was almost killed early this morning. She's next door, asleep now... She was electrocuted - they brought her back." He looked at Shirik. "Prophets...I could have lost both of you in the same day. If it hadn't been for Finn - and Sorg."

She grinned as she returned his hug, her uncertainties melting away for the moment. She nodded with a smile, but then her smile faded at the news of Tayla's injury. She gave his hand a squeeze and tapped out, 'We'll both be ok. Don't worry, and don't you dare feel guilty.' She gave him a stern look and then smiled once more. 'Tayla and I will get lots of rest now. You should try to get some, too. You look like you sorely need it.'

He looked at the words on the padd and for the first time was frustrated that she couldn't talk. He wanted to hear her voice, it had a pleasing lilt to it that he missed. He'd been staring at LCARS for the last day and a half and the words seemed to swim. He nodded. "You're right," he said tiredly. "I'd better go. I might sleep for the next day or so." He gave her a smile. "Get better," he ordered, and leaned down and kissed her cheek without thinking about it. "That's an order, Ensign Lektar. Oh, and what you did with the computer helped. Thanks."

Her parting smile was bright, and her eyes sparkled with it. She nodded and made shooing motions with her hands at him rather than type any more. She watched him go, and then decided to get some rest herself. She closed her eyes and started meditating as Saavar had been teaching her, and was soon fast asleep.

"Under Pressure"
By: Ensign Kit Markham
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 15h20

***

He appeared in the doorway, a shadow at first that slowly took form. He found her, on the other side of the sickbay and so very far away. But, he knew this was a trip he had to make, even though each step would be misery. First one foot, then the other. Slowly, he began moving. His eyes never left her. In his chest, his heart hammered so hard that it might even burst through. Fear gripped him. A deep dread that told him that this was a mistake, that he should turn back and not pursue this course.

His body would not listen. His need was too great to turn away and leave this wound open. He had to know.

Finally, he stood behind her. A brief pause, with eyes closing and a calming breath. It didn't help. He was certain she'd hear the staccato of his heart as he stood. He could take it no longer.

"Amy?"

There was a gasp, and the plunk of an instrument falling from numb fingers. Her eyes were flooded with tears when she faced him, and vocalizing a shriek of joy, Amy Reese flung herself at Kit, arms tightly around his neck and lips covering his cheeks and mouth. "Oh god...Kitty! I was so worried!"

Kit Markham closed his eyes. "I'm sure," he said. "I was working. There were lots of pods to be recovered. I hear Tchalla's doing better."

"She is," Amy answered, still clinging to him desperately. "I would have come to you sooner...but things in sickbay..." She sighed and rested her head upon his shoulder, lips brushing his neck. "You're here now," she whispered. "That's all that matters."

"Does it?" Kit asked softly. "So many people lost their lives. Good people. I almost lost mine." He met her gaze. "As I thought...when I thought it was over, I was worried about you. I...I was scared about who would take care of you after I was...was gone. I know now that I didn't need to be, to worry."

"Gone?" Amy sobbed, confusion and fear reigning. "Lost what, Kitty?" she asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Hoff told me," he said. "When he came to find you, to tell you what'd happened. He saw the two of you, saw...what was about to happen if he hadn't shown up."

Amy pulled back, still bewildered. "What?" she whispered. "Hoff? What did he see? I don't-- Kit...what are you talking about?"

Kit shook his head, partly to shake off the pain and partly to break eye contact. "When he got to you, found you with Chief Case, he interrupted you. Your face tilted up toward his, his toward yours. I can only imagine what he would have found if he'd shown up a minute later."

"Found?" Amy shook her head. "Kit...it was only a hug! I was worried about him...about all of you! And...and I was so scared with the klaxons and not knowing what was happening to you..." She sighed. "I just needed some comfort and he was there...but it was nothing, Kit! After everything...how could you still think that!"

"You were going to kiss him, Amy," Kit said. "And, he was going to kiss you. And, if Hoff hadn't have been there, he would have. Are you telling me you weren't going to kiss him? Are you telling me that it was only a hug, and that was all?"

She frowned. "Does it matter what I tell you?" she asked, her voice a cold whisper. "You've already made up your mind. I was scared for you, Kit...I was so scared we'd never see each other again, that we'd never be married...that we'd never have that house on Alpha Centauri! Case was just there to take that fear away...but it was still you I thought of, Kit!"

"Why does it hurt so much, Amy? Why does it feel like my...my heart is gone, lost in the harsh vacuum of space. Why do I feel like...like I'll never be the one who's there to take your fear away? Why do I feel like there will always be someone there to jump in and help you pick up the pieces before I can get there? Because I tried to do my duty as a Starfleet officer, you had to find someone else to lend you support. And, then Kitty is there when you get home, all patched up and safe because your saviour managed to assuage your fears and make everything right."

"Kitty," she groaned, consumed by utter perplexity. "You're here now... Why can't I just hold you and be glad that you're safe? I had no idea where you were or what had happened to you the entire time...and I was so afraid." Her green eyes swam with tears as she whispered, "Please?"

Kit closed his eyes again, unable to look into her eyes without losing his resolve. "Why do you turn to others?" he whispered. "Why can't you turn to me? Even if I'm not there, why can't you...why can't you hold out until you can find me? Why do you have to turn to whoever's there, Amy? Why can't it ever be me? Why can't you ever turn to me? Why aren't I first? I'm always the afterthought, the one you can return to at home at night after everything's been fixed. Why am I, your fianc�, last?"

"But you're not," she told him, laying a hand upon his shoulder. "You were on my mind the entire time. You were there, Kitty, every second. Isn't that the same thing?"

"Even when you were about to kiss Chief Case, Amy? Even as your lips were drawing closer to his, his strong, muscular arms holding you tight? Were you even thinking about me then, Amy? I'm so happy that Chief Case was around to keep your fear at bay. I'm sure his strong, noble presence helped keep you from despairing." He shook his head and clamped his eyes shut tight. He took a deep breath, and let it out. He had to keep the fear from claiming him, the fear of losing her. I can't lose that which isn't mine to begin with, he told himself. "I'll have to thank Chief Petty Officer Case for taking such good care of you."

Amy nodded slowly, noting the haunted, distant gaze that was creating an abyss between them now. She didn't like what she saw there, and the chill it swept over her. "I-I have to get back to work," she whispered. "I'll see you back in our quarters later...okay?"

"Maybe," Kit said. "I should go talk to a counsellor. I hear Scott really enjoys talking to the brink-of-death patients. I'm sure she'll love talking to me. Though, at this point, I'm not sure if I should thank Hoff or not. Either for beaming me back in, or for telling me what he saw. Would that I could just remain in that state of ignorance in which you prefer me, my heart might be joyful again. But, I guess that's too romantic a notion, and only found in holodeck stories. Or, maybe I'm not really the hero of this story after all." He turned back at her as she stared at him, confusion and disbelief warring for dominance on her face. "In the stories, when the hero is pulled back from the jaws of death, the love of his life is there. I guess we'll know the answer if you're there when Chief Case is pulled back from the jaws of death, won't we? Then we'll know we are in a story, and I'm not the hero."

Amy's mouth oscillated between opened and closed while, absently, she took a step away from him. "Kit," she asked, her voice trembling, "what are you talking about? I-I really think you should go and have a nap. You don't...you're not well or something."

"I'm sorry, Amy," Kit said. "I almost died today; it tends to make you a little edgy. You see, the ship was falling apart, and the containment field in the shuttlebay went out. I wasn't able to get back into the Mallory after pushing Hoff inside, and...well, there's only so long you can hold on with all the atmosphere being vented into space. But, thankfully Hoff managed to beam me back in using the shuttle transporter, just in time for him to then inform me that when he went to tell you what happened to me, he found you in a near liplock with dear Chief Petty Officer Case. Didn't Chief Case tell you this? About me? And, my near trip to the great beyond? I'm sorry if I'm a little upset. I've had a really bad day."

The news shocked Amy, though the nonchalant delivery of it had a greater effect than the content. She was sobbing again and dared to hug Kit, though he was stiff and no warmth greeted her. "You almost died?" she squeaked. "Is that what Hoff-- H-He wanted to tell me something...it was that." Amy drew back quickly and met Kit's hollow stare. "If I'd known, I would've come, Kitty. I swear!"

"Looks like Chief Case thought it best that you didn't," Kit said. "Maybe he needed to comfort you some more, and it just wouldn't have worked if you went off to comfort me, now would it? Yes, I almost died, and the person I asked to go get you...Chief Case intercepted him, and told him it would be best if you kept to your duty. It was so nice of Chief Case to make that sort of decision for you, Ensign Reese." His voice became suddenly choked and emotional, the words a strain to deliver. "He's coming between us, Amy. I can't live like this, wondering when it will happen. Wondering when he'll truly steal you away from me. He was there for you. He kept you from being there for me." He pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut to fight back the anger and pain. "I can't live in fear of what's happening when I'm not around, not when things like this are happening."

"Kit...we already talked about all this!" She framed his face with her hands, firmly to draw some sense out of him through the connection. "I love you. You! I'm marrying you, not Chief Case, or any of those other ghosts you're threatened by. My duty kept me from going to you, Kit. I had people to save, and if I had known about your accident...I still might not have gone to you. If you can't trust me to behave when you're not around, then that's not my problem; maybe you should see the counsellor after all. But have some damned faith in me, Kit! For us!"

"It hurts too much," Kit whispered. "Seeing you...hearing what Hoff said...and then talking to Case. I don't know if I can live with the doubt, Amy. I-I don't want to be hurt, not more than I already hurt." He took a breath and let it out. "He didn't even tell you what happened. I can't live like this, when every time I turn around and there's something else. I'm going crazy, Amy...and you're not doing anything to stop...to help...you just go right back in, and...and it's tearing me apart."

"Then I'll come with you," she told him. "We'll go to see the counsellor together... It'll be better! It will!"

Kit looked up and found himself caught in her eyes. He sobbed once, then opened his arms to her. "Amy," he rasped in a choked voice.

She crushed him to her bosom without hesitation, kissing the top of his head. "Get some sleep, Kitty," she pleaded. "You're tired and still shaken... Sleep, and when you wake up, everything will be right again. I promise you."

"I just want to be with you for now," Kit said. "I don't care if I have to follow you around Sickbay...I just...just need time to be with you, to spend with you."

"Okay," she answered with trepidation. "How about we start with a short check-up?" Amy looked down at him, smiling encouragement. "I'll teach you how to use the scanner."

"A check-up, it is," he said with a hesitant smile. "I've...I've always wanted to know how to use one of those...scanners."

Amy took up Kit's hand, and patted it comfortingly as she led him to the nearest biobed. It reminded her of the first day they'd met - Kit struggling to climb onto the bed so Amy could administer his routine exam. Now, she was simply trying to keep his mind from drowning in paranoia, and perhaps discover if any neurological damage had been caused by his accident. This wasn't the Kitty she knew. He seemed so small and defenseless, frightened of shadows given shape by the delusions of his jarred mind. There was Case, and every other man he suspected her of bedding with, then there was Amy, with no idea how to quell his fears. As she passed the scanner over his trembling frame, she stifled a sob, wondering if everything truly would be right again.

"Checking In"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20, 15h30

***

Calyca hurried down the corridor towards Sickbay as her fingers combed through her hair in the vain hope of some kind of order to the short red curls. It was an effort in futility which she'd long since come to accept. She was neat and presentable when she stepped into the medical section of the ship however, with several hours of sleep under her belt and a clean and tidy uniform hugging her shapely form. She looked towards Shirik's room in time to see the Chief of Security exiting.

It hadn't been difficult to discover who'd been regular visitors to her friend, and so she had a good idea who the three 'friends' were that Shirik had told her about earlier. She watched curiously as the handsome half-Bajoran Lieutenant Commander left Sickbay. The tired, slightly frustrated and relieved look on his face hadn't escaped her and it was thoughtful green eyes that turned back to study the door he'd come from. A deep concern for her Drokari friend took root as she stood there thinking. She'd heard the rumors about the relationship between the Security Chief and the XO, and she seriously doubted that this particular relationship boded well for Shirik. It remained to be seen however, depending totally on the impression she got from her friend after they were finally able to have their 'talk'.

None of her inner thoughts and worries showed as she quietly peeked inside the room to see if Shirik was awake, a smile gracing her face as she did. "You awake, Shirik?" she whispered, knowing full well that the Drokari princess would hear if she was, and prepared to back out just as quietly if she wasn't.

Shirik had just closed her eyes when she heard the whisper and opened them once more with a smile. She wordlessly gestured her friend inside, making Calyca's smile spread into a grin as she slipped inside the room, and quietly closed the door behind her.

"How'd it go?" She kept her voice low as she made her way over to perch on the bed next to the Drokari operations officer. "You don't look any worse," Caly smiled and reached out to squeeze Shirik's hand encouragingly. "I think maybe even a wee bit better, Shiri."

She shrugged, picking up her PADD to type her reply. 'It was just a hypospray. Dr. Sefton said we should know by morning if it's working.'

"How do you feel?" Caly asked softly after reading Shirik's reply. "And I don't mean physically." Her green eyes turned to study her friend's face and eyes. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

'Same as before,' she typed. 'I'm ok, Caly. Either way, I'm ready, for whatever.' She shook her head. 'I don't think so. Just come to my funeral if I have one.' She smiled faintly.

"Hey now..." She reached out and softly rubbed the backs of her fingers across Shirik's cheek. "No funerals and no dying. I want to bounce baby Shiriks on my knee someday and corrupt them horribly." The Operations Officer was the closest thing she had to a sister and the thought of losing her was causing a knot to form in Caly's stomach. Not that any of that showed, she didn't let it. She smiled at Shirik and tugged gently on her braid.

Shirik's body jerked with a rough cough sound that passed for a laugh. 'It will be a long long time before there are any baby Shiriks,' she grinned. She knew the odds of Caly being able to have contact with them wasn't high, especially if they were born on Drokar. 'Don't worry, Caly, I'm hopeful. I have a lot to live for.'

"Good," the petite engineer grinned back, confident in her delusion of bouncing baby Shiriks. "And did I happen to see one of those reasons coughleaveherecough a few minutes ago?" she asked candidly.

Shirik rolled her eyes. 'Yes, that was Lt. Commander T'Kal, Chief of Security. He's one of my friends.' The look in her eyes said something more, though, and the smile that the thought of him brought to her lips, neither of which Caly missed.

She laughed softly at Shirik's eye roll and nodded her understanding. "You'll have to tell me about him when we get our private time," she urged. "Are you suppose to rest or something? I'm not going to incur any 'wrath of the medics', am I?"

'I will,' she promised. 'Yes, I am. I was about to get some sleep when you showed up,' she smiled.

"Ahhh... That's my cue to leave, isn't it?" Caly grinned at her friend and leaned in to give her an impulsive hug, one that Shirik returned unselfconsciously. An unusual thing for both women really. "I'll come back later, okay?" she asked as she stood up and prepared to leave.

'I'll be here.' Shirik smiled.

"You better be." Caly paused for a moment longer before taking her leave with a wave and a grin.

"I Don't Believe The Words You Sing Sometimes"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton
and Corran Quezith

Location: USS Sulu, Deck Five
Stardate: 57908.20, 16h00

***

The doors of Sickbay's waiting room closed behind Cristobel and Corran in cinematographic-perfect slow motion for this momentous occasion: their first full night off in days. It remained uncertain if the movement of the doors was a sleep-deprivation hallucination or a lingering system glitch. With the surprising professionalism -- including a cattiness scarcity -- in Sickbay behind them, Cris grinned goofily large as the fingers of his left hand intertwined with the fingers of Corran's right. He bumped his shoulder against Corran's to say, "It's like I haven't seen you in days... So how horrified would you be if I said I had to study tonight..."

"Oh, I think I'd make you my next morgue patient... and that's just for kidding me." He wiggled an eyebrow at Cristobel, menacing him with the image of a mental scalpel, but then switching over to a physical grin. The last thing he could think about now was more work!

"I know, and I'd probably deserve it," Cristobel sighed, his feet feeling heavier and leaden to move. "I just... I have a test in two days. And I suspect you dropped your technical manual reading because of all of your overtime on-the-job training. So... persuade me to not study."

"Huh?" Corran's eyes dimmed. It was one thing to give up on technical reading because you'd figured stuff out yourself, on the job, another entirely to not study for an exam. Corran was already a doctor, Cris was 'becoming' a fully practicing medical officer.

Wouldn't you be cutting it really close?

"It's not like I've been waiting for the examination to learn what I need to know. ...And didn't you just think that you'd cut me if I dared to study tonight?" Cristobel reminded him with playful petulance.

A grin spread across Corran's lips as he turned bright red. "I suppose I did... but are you sure?"

"I am sure for this moment. It's impossible to be sure for the next," Cristobel said, growing a touch irritated by Corran's indecision. "Besides, I am not the one waffling between threats of violence and an academic scolding that an Academy Head Boy would be proud of."

Oh hush, I've had med students before. He bumped Cristobel's side and started laughing. Or did you think poor little old me never had to deal with naughty students like you that went out and partied when they shoulda been doing something else?

"I'm not naughty," Cristobel insisted in an ambiguous tone. "I know how I learn best, and so I am the best judge of what my schedule should be like. And I think my schedule should involve bed-time in beta, and socialising with strangers or unexpected friends in the officer's lounge during gamma. I kinda need to see people who aren't bleeding out of various orifices."

"That sounds good..." he said in a gentle sincerity, but he felt like doing anything other than that, maybe tend to the arboretum or go back to his own quarters to meditate with his crystal for a while. Things were calmer, but there was more to come in the future and he would need to concentrate. However, Cris had every right to go out for some fun.

Nodding, Cristobel silently pulled a jefferies tube hatch away from the bulkhead, but then turned back to Corran when his thoughts bubbled to a boil. "You don't want to join me in the lounge?" Cristobel stated disappointedly.

Corran pulled away from his own thoughts and looked him in the eyes, their color shifting over to a bright green color as he responded, I'd rather not. There wouldn't be a lot for me to share with your friends. Some other time, maybe. Truth was, Corran liked group outings less and less as time passed by, and not for the same reasons as for when he'd fallen ill. He figured his 'groupie' phase had ended.

"Right..." Cris muttered, turning back to the jefferies tube, but then spinning back on Corran. After a quick breath, Sefton asked, "Where are we going? I can't go to my quarters. Apparently, during the worst of the glitches this morning, my room was converted to a Class K environment. Ops doesn't think they'll be able to get to it 'till the morning."

"You can come to mine...and stay the night..." He hesitated, a sheepish look coming across his face. Technically he shouldn't have made the invitation, but he'd felt lonely. The ship was a strange new world in and of itself for him to explore, and he was pretty much doing that alone now that they weren't living together. "I mean, after you got back. I'll probably be up anyway." He scratched his own shoulder thoughtfully.

"Well, technically, it'll be more like: go to your quarters, watch you tend your garden, sleep with you, sleep, and then socialise, followed by reporting to duty," Cristobel clarified earnestly. With a destination in mind, he crawled into the jefferies tube.

Whatever works!

"If the replicators are working properly, I think I might order us some lussekatt with whatever we eat for dinner. They're like dinner rolls; Annikafiore was telling me about them. Apparently they're mighty yum, but they're made with saffron. Saffron is poisonous in large doses, but Ani assures me that it won't kill me. If it does, she is so in the broil," Cris said with varying highs and lows as he crawled across the jefferies tube grating. "You'll avenge my death, right? In a peaceable manner, of course?"

"Uhhh..." He smirked at the idea, thought about a peaceful way for avenging Cris' improbable death, and came back constantly to a scene involving him and a phaser pointed at Annikafiore. Don't know about peaceful. I'm under the influence... He grinned jokingly.

"The influence of what?" Cristobel asked sceptically, stopping his crawling to look back at Corran. "Klingon testosterone? Or worse: Human testosterone?"

"Human..." His brow furrowed curiously just as the question bubbled up out of his mind, Worse than Klingons?

Continuing his crawling down the tube, Cristobel enthused, "Hell, yeah. At least Klingons have a complicated honour system to keep themselves controlled. What's to stop overly mah-cho human T-boys from performing all kinds of stupidity?"

No answer to that, but I doubt they're the only race in the galaxy that do stupid things... Corran reached up to scratch his brow gently. He was starting to feel a little stuffy in these jefferies tubes.

"Never said they were, but, y'know, I grew up around Humans more than anyone else," Cris said, as he jumped up to his feet in a vertical junction.

Is that why you're speaking? He'd noted that Cris hadn't spoken telepathically and couldn't help but wonder why.

"No." Cristobel had stepped up to the first rung, but stepped back down to face Corran, who crawled out of the horizontal shaft. "I am talking because" -- Cris winced -- "you sound weird."

I sound weird?

"You sound weird," Cris emphatically repeated. "The 'sound' of your thoughts. It's unfamiliar. I figured - didn't you know about it already? Isn't this another part of your evolution?"

Corran eyed him irritably for a moment, but recognized he should've guessed it would 'sound' strange to most people... and then he wondered why he hadn't picked up on Cristobel's emotions earlier. His eyes dropped thoughtfully. He'd concentrated too much on keeping his own mind in one piece to even notice.

Well yeah... but there's very little I can do about that...

"I'm not blaming you. This isn't a formal complaint," Cristobel assured him quickly. He reached his arm out to hook a pair of fingers down the waist of Corran's trousers, getting a firm grip to yank his body closer. As he spoke to Corran softer, much closer, the subtle movements of his face, brushed his nose against Corran's. "I just wanted to make sure you know that, for the moment, your voice is more comforting than your thoughts. Your voice is familiar; It reminds me of...crystalline clear violet water lapping against uniformly soft green sand." Cris bent his head down to nuzzle his nose against Corran's throat. "How about I spent all of beta getting reacquainted with you -- no sleeping -- since I'll do my sleeping during gamma. Maybe on my mom's couch. And the next time I can get a holodeck, we could play Strip Velocity -- like our first date -- to truly re-familiarize myself with the layers of your thoughts."

"That sounds...enticing...though, I have my doubts you'll be able to beat me this time. I've been practicing." Corran wiggled his eyebrows at Cris, caressing his sides for a moment before winking at him, and escaping from him. "Then again, right now you've gotta come get me..."

Cristobel whined a playful, "hey", as he made chase behind Corran, who tapped the control to retract the deckplate hatch and scrambled down the rungs to sprint towards his quarters.

"And Here's the Pitch"
By: Lieutenant Commander Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Operations Office
Stardate: 57908.20, 16h10

***

Farrell sat in his chair and exhaled deeply, staring at the wall and letting himself get used to things again. He was alive, and back where he belonged. The medstaff had fixed him up nicely, and even let him keep the kilo and a half of plexiglass and transaluminum shrapnel they extracted from his body. He wondered if he should mount it on a plaque or something. Maybe a nice piece of abstract art. But he could deal with that later. Right now, he had a mess to clean up, and he bent to his terminal, almost patting it lovingly when it powered right up.

Once the doors into the office opened for Doctor Damhnait Sefton, she took only one calm step into the room, with her hands held behind her back.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Farrell said, rising from his chair respectfully.

The thermal tank hit him in the shoulder as he was halfway to his feet and he sprawled clumsily to the floor as Doctor Sefton began her tirade.

"Were you all trying to kill Shirik?" Damhnait barked. "Was the potentially-fatal virus too much of a bore?"

With a muttered curse, Farrell slapped one hand up onto the desktop and got unsteadily back to his feet.

"Mo dhia, are you hurt, Ensign?" Sefton asked, clearly mortified at the tank having actually hit him. Bringing a medical tricorder to bear, Sefton cringingly offered, "I was aiming for the wall..."

"I'm ok," Farrell grimaced and rolled his shoulder. He looked down at the tank, which had rolled against the wall. "I take it Lektar needs a refill?" he ventured, trying to muster a smile as she scanned him.

Damhnait was surprised at his flippancy, considering the pain in his shoulder and, oddly, his guilt from having cursed in front of her, all of which she was reading off of him. "If by 'needs a refill' you mean she vomited up what she drank, then yes," she chided him fiercely, but softly. Looking from his eyes to the tricorder, she formally told him, "There probably won't even be a bruise on your shoulder, but I could replicate a pain-killer if you'd like."

"I'll be alright, sir," Farrell said. "Is, uh, is Lektar all right?"

With her eyes narrowed on him, Damhnait dropped a PADD, which had been flush against the underside of her tricorder, onto his desk. Her words still hard, but not loud, she instructed, "Throw this at yourself. A list of all the medications Shirik was on, as well as the side effects of disrupting the delicate balance of her current blood chemistry."

"I was afraid of that," Farrell grimaced, looking at the PADD but not picking it up. "You have every apology I can make, sir."

"Before I can accept every one of them, I need to know," Damhnait insisted, "must I instruct my nurses to frisk you on sight in Sickbay, Ensign Farrell? I cannot risk further contraband in my Sickbay. And please don't waste time thinking about it being either Nurse Reese or Nurse Szerda doing the frisking. It would never happen."

Farrell chuckled and smiled, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm going to have to get Cris to show me how to defend myself against you. But you've got it. No more contraband. For patients," he added, with meaning.

"I knew you were a smart boy," Damhnait playfully patronised, both of their minds on certain items locked in storage in the Life Science Laboratory. "Admittedly, I should thank you for your well-meaning, if absolutely inept, gift to Shirik. Yulik and Tchalla's friends were barely ever in Sickbay, and I would be surprised if Kremer and M'lira had a single friend between them on this ship, but Shirik had a long line of men to entertain, despite the enormous risks to their personal safety. Aside from you, every one of them came in gloomier than the last. Her first day in Sickbay, I am certain that they convinced her that she would die overnight, despite the days of fight still left within her. Fortunately, they lightened up, and I think the idea of the klaas probably helped her, even if the actuality of it was an absolute horror."

When a stabbing headache forcefully reminded Sefton of its existence at the front of her cranium, she shut her eyes for a moment, and calmingly plexed a nerve behind her ear. Before she opened her eyes, she quietly instructed, "If you repeat any of this, you heard it from my son."

"If I repeat any of what you just told me, or if I repeat any of what you're about to tell me?" Farrell asked, with only a tiny hint of mischief.

Opening her dark eyes, Sefton smirked blithely. "What I just told you. You don't get any other secret until I know what you have done with the first."

"Fair enough," Farrell said. "I heard none of this from you. How is Lektar?" he asked.

"There are healthy cells growing in her lungs at an accelerated rate. We won't know if the virus rejects them until morning," Sefton reported. "The other gene therapies are proving to be successful, though."

"Well, that's good news. Are you alright, sir?" Farrell asked, as she put a hand to her head against the pain again.

"Headache. It's nothing," Damhnait vaguely shook her head, the lack of definition to the moment emphasizing its lack of importance. "I have to be careful not to overmedicate myself, but right about now, I wouldn't say no to another half-bottle of Cyndrielan Cerulesque."

"Oh?" Farrell said. "I'll have to see what I can do."

"That wasn't a request," Sefton assured him, mildly amused at his speedy desire to please. "In fact, I would suggest you drop the supplier who provided you with the last bottle. Its aphrodisiac effect came incredibly late -- nearly twelve hours after consumption."

"Wait," Farrell said, finally catching the reference to 'another' bottle. "Potts shared that bottle with you?"

"You did not already know?" Damhnait was already asking, before being consciously aware of Mason's honest intentions. "Hunh. Potts seemed rather vocal about the importance of sharing such a drink with a remarkable Betazoid. And he doesn't know my son very well."

Farrell chuckled. "You raised a fine son, ma'am. Cris is a good man."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you," Damhnait remarked. "I certainly want to thank you again for overstocking my wishlist back at DS9. It was essential when the replicators became unreliable - even if I had no occasion to use any of the exciting items."

"It was my pleasure, ma'am. Thank you for trusting me with it. That makes you a rare breed."

"This rare breed has to get back to Sickbay," Damhnait announced, and slowly backed towards the door. "You be more careful with your gifting."

"Yes, sir."

"Get Out of My Chair"
By: Lieutenant (jg) Natalia Druschev
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Main Science Lab, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.20, 17h15

***

Wearing a fresh uniform, free of blood and sweat, and her hair neatly piled atop her head, Xayella Tagliesh strode into her science lab. Although she was hardly the sentimental type, it felt good to do so once again.

The lab was particularly crowded that day, though it was understandable considering the amount of research and repairs to be done. The virus on the planet needed containment and her department was charged with the task of developing an appropriate method of doing so. Newly reinstated, Xayella imagined her department would have a greater chance of succeeding than they would have with Lt. Druschev leading them.

It was just that officer she raised a haughty eyebrow to when she entered her office, finding the woman seated in her chair. Chuckling lowly, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. "Lieutenant, comfortable?"

Natalia Druschev looked up from the desk terminal and smiled at the woman leaning against the door frame. Tagliesh. She'd been reinstated by the captain, and Natalia had received word earlier. She was still making out reports on what actions had been taken during the crisis, and getting it all down chronologically had been a major headache. She was almost finished though, and the Lieutenant's question had momentarily distracted her.

As she hadn't had a lot of exposure to the woman beforehand, her famous bitchiness had bypassed Natalia. She wondered for a second what this encounter was going to be like. She didn't know a single member of the science department that Tagliesh actually got on with..

"Hello, Lieutenant," she started with a smile. "I was finishing up the action reports for last night. I'll clear out if you like." Natalia's eyes were direct, and held Xayella's gaze with complete confidence.

"No, stay put." Still smiling, albeit slyly, she crossed the room and ensconced herself in the chair opposite her desk. Her feet came up to rest on the tabletop. "Finish those up so I won't have to, Lieutenant. I prefer practicing science to filling out reports."

Her attitude surprised Natalia, she was wary, waiting for the woman to start screeching and scratching the way everyone said she would. She kept the smile on her face and nodded. "It was rather exciting last night," Natalia said off-handedly. "I was taken by surprise...getting the CSO. I didn't expect it at all. I thought that Lieutenant Saavar...." She left the question with a raised brow.

Xayella's almost-sneer answered it for her. "Lieutenant Saavar is dealing with issues of his own making at the moment. He's hardly fit to sit in that chair. Frankly," she said with an airy sigh, "I'm glad you were on hand to keep things together. I'm grateful...I imagine."

"You are?" The question came out with a little surprised expression.

She smiled imperceptibly. "I imagine," she repeated. "Should I not be?"

"Well...okay." Natalia grinned. "Thank you, Lieutenant. We managed to save the Arboretum...and the majority of on-going experiments. The loss of life support didn't hurt us too badly."

"And all samples from the planet residing in the science labs are still properly contained?" she asked with a touch of condescension.

"Da!" Natalia nodded. "The samples that were in the cargo bay were evacuated into space, and unfortunately they would not have remained in orbit for any longer than two hours."

There was a clear hint of relief in Xayella's sigh. "Good. While we work on dealing with the virus on JJ324c, I'd also like you to begin work on enhancing the containment fields currently in use in our department. We don't want something like this happening again, and I believe proper containment from the get-go will ensure that."

"I believe proper containment was in force from the start, Lieutenant." Natalia sat back. "I was on the initial Away Teams, and collected samples. They were all secured in containment cells while we were still on JJ324c. The virus was released in Medical - not in our department. The Pods that were brought from the surface were handled by medical personnel. We were not at fault."

Xay snorted. "If we had done everything we could have, we wouldn't have had a single case of infection, now would we? Just do as you're told, Lieutenant." Agitated, she swung her legs off the desk and pushed onto her feet. "When you're done all this" --she waved vaguely at the padds and computer upon the bureau-- "come and find me. I need to inspect the lab for anything not up to my standards."

"Certainly, Lieutenant." Natalia kept her smile. She had just defended the science department, as it really wasn't their fault, and Tagliesh had reacted as if she'd blamed her! What was it with this woman? She treated everyone with the same disdain and discourtesy. Obviously she thought everyone was beneath her, and that her standards were better than anyone else's.

Xayella stalked for the door without another word, but halted abruptly in the opening. She barely spared a glance over her shoulder at Natalia as she said, "Thank you, again, for keeping the chair warm, Lieutenant. But...don't start getting used to it." There was the faintest of smiles as she crossed the threshold and departed.

"I wouldn't want it," Natalia whispered in Russian to her back as the woman walked away.

"Mortality"
Lt. Saavar
Ensign Shirik Lektar

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 20h15

***

Saavar walked through Sickbay in a Class B uniform, making straight for Shirik Lektar's isolation room. The main ward area was quiet, but full. There were still many members of the crew that had been injured and were recovering. He smiled at a nurse and she smiled back, but he kept walking until he was through the door. The Vulcan officer had had a difficult time during the crisis. Being on the Bridge had been his place, but he had been largely impotent there. No communications and power shorts had left them deaf and blind to what was happening on the ship.

He'd been surprised at Captain Salinger's passing him over for taking the role of Chief of Science. It didn't take a genius to realize that Salinger was heavily influenced by Tagliesh, and anything that affected her, affected him. So - logically, Saavar determined that Salinger was not pleased with him over his personal issue with Tagliesh. The Vulcan was surprised that Salinger hadn't even deigned to discover the facts. He would have to just put it aside for later.

Shirik was laying back reading a padd when he walked in. He no longer needed to wear the mask, as Sefton had decreed that she was responding swiftly to the agent that had been tried on her. In fact the Drokari metabolism was rather robust and had already started to heal remarkably. She couldn't breathe yet, but that would not take more than a day or so to rectify.

Saavar put aside his own personal difficulties and smiled at his Bond Mate. "Forgive the lateness of my visit," he said as he approached the bed. "I have been extremely busy."

She looked up with a smile as Saavar entered the room. 'I'm sure you have been,' she typed, reaching for his hand. 'I don't suppose you were anywhere near an escape pod, were you?' She quirked an eyebrow at him as her gaze took in his change in uniform. 'Class B's today?'

"I was on the Bridge," he said. "No I was not near an escape pod." He ignored the remark about his uniform as he sat on the bed beside her. One hand reached out to touch her face.

She leaned into his touch, but her expression fell. "I was in one, unconscious. I woke up to Dr. Potts of all people. I would have been safe, and everybody I cared about would have stayed here and died. That's not right.'

It was duty, he thought as he established the meld very easily. He enjoyed the touch of her mind, she was still vibrant even now. It was my place to be on the Bridge. I would have evacuated in time. He smiled and through the meld he projected comfort and warmth, trying to diminish her fears on the possible fates that circled her mind like vultures. It is illogical to dwell upon a situation that did not arise, he thought at her.

She closed her eyes, relaxing as his calm enveloped her. Yes, you're right. She took comfort from the fact that he said he would have evacuated in time. But the other two people she cared about wouldn't have, she knew.

She opened her eyes to look into his. I've never lost someone I cared about, she said. I don't think I'd deal with it very well.

Everyone must lose someone eventually, he thought with a smile. That is the very nature of life. As a sentient being we can choose how we spend our lives. Death when it comes is the same for all species. It is a transition that cannot be accurately determined until experienced for oneself. You would do well to prepare your mind for the eventuality of losing someone you care about.

Hopefully I won't need to prepare for that for some time to come, she said. But she knew that barring being killed herself in some way, she would eventually have to face the loss of all of them, as she would naturally outlive them all. She'd never bothered to think about the differences in lifespan from herself to the others before, but now it hit her, and it bothered her.

We are both long-lived, Shirik. He held her hand as he touched her face. I will live a long time.

Not as long as me, she smiled faintly. Our time together is limited in any case, we both know that, Saavar. She gave his hand a squeeze in hers. But I'm grateful for whatever time we do have.

Do not worry about this. All time is limited. Life passes for all of us. You have been confronted by your mortality and are thus consumed by thoughts of transience. It is normal. He nodded. I too am grateful for the opportunity that we have.

She nodded. I'm just glad to still be alive. The doctor says we'll know by tomorrow if the therapy is working. So far I don't feel much different.

Yes, you are different, he thought. Your energy levels are higher, and I can feel your metabolic rate increasing.

You can feel that? She smiled. Sounds like good signs. She relaxed once more. Sorg was here this morning... He told me that Lt Tagliesh had been relieved of her position and someone else put in charge of Science. She studied him for his reaction, wanting to know what he knew about the situation.

His mental calm rippled with the disturbance of her news. Yes. It seems the captain saw fit to pass me by. I believe he may harbor a personal grievance against me because of the mate bond with Xayella. It is unfortunate, but he is Human and will be prone to those kinds of judgmental errors due to his irrational emotionalism over the female. I do not believe that Xayella informed him of the situation, and it certainly was not my place to do so. She simply ordered me to solve the situation without involving her. I am glad that we found a solution. Saavar mentally shrugged. It is also a transient thing. I will outlive his opinions.

She frowned, anger smoldering in her. That situation should have nothing to do with your being given the department if you were next in line for it, she said. The captain's not as big of a petty fool as Tagliesh, is he? He's the captain, the one person who is not supposed to let emotions get in the way of duty, or so I was led to believe at the academy. The more she learned about the senior staff, the less impressed she was with most of them.

He is Human and therefore prone to the Human condition. Do not concern yourself with whether I received what would be considered my due. It is of no concern in the scheme of things. It is less than important. What matters is that the science department was run effectively during that period, and I fully believe that it was. Lieutenant Druschev did an admirable job considering she was promoted to the position while still on an away mission.

She wasn't so disposed to just forget about things like that, but decided to turn the subject elsewhere. Do you know her? she asked, indicating Druschev.

Yes. I have met her on many occasions. We can work effectively together. She is a physics and mathematics specialist, with experience in the fields of Astronomy and Temporal Physics. She has a nine year old son on board the Sulu also.

I wasn't aware there were children on board, she said. I thought most families were assigned to Galaxy-class vessels.

That is true, but allowances are made for specialists with family circumstances. She was assigned to the Black Star Project researching Black Hole phenomena. This mission required someone with the expertise in her fields as a generalist Astrometric Officer. Harbour no ill will, Shirik. Ofttimes it is during these trials that one's peers come to understand your true character. I wish her well in her career, and if she finds favor with this captain where I do not, that is immaterial.

I harbor no ill will towards her, she said. No, there were others for that. I've not had much contact with the senior officers on board, but what I've seen of them so far leaves me with some concerns. I'm just as glad that I don't need to have a lot of contact with them.

Our missions have been successful to date, the Vulcan intoned. Do not forget that this is a relatively new crew, with a new senior command that has not worked together a significant amount of time to fully come to terms with each other's strengths or weaknesses. This takes time and I am sure that things will work well in the future if all minds are bent upon making it a success.

She nodded. She could only hope things would improve. How long will we be staying at this planet?~ she asked. ~Are there any plans to move on yet?

We will remain for one week, he thought. Enough time to gather more samples and eradicate any traces of the virus that may be found. We will also be building an edifice to house the systems required to allow the three remaining entities to live out an existence within a Moriarity Matrix. It is fitting that we treat them with respect. I am well pleased that considering the damage and the losses, the Captain remained true to the First Contact Directives. Now we may discover much more than a dead world would have offered, and the three will serve as a warning to all about the dangers of the weapons they wield.

How were these entities stored? And how did they get into our systems? she asked. Were they some sort of engram backup of the people in the stasis chambers?

A Moriarity Matrix is a holographic simulation with enough computing power to remain active. Unfortunately it seems that Commander Sam and yourself loaded them within a holodeck matrix on the Sulu. The safeguards put in place were not enough to contain their engrams. They did not know the why of it any more than we do.

I know what a Moriarty Matrix is, she said. What I wondered was how they were stored on the planet, and why. If the people were in stasis, and alive at the time they were placed there, then why would their engrams be stored as well?

Their stasis systems contained a buffer similar to a transporter in which a brain engram was stored so that any degradation of that engram would be restored during the waking process. It takes into consideration the normal cellular decay rate, but extrapolated over the time span in which they were meant to remain in stasis. It was a back-up system for their biological systems. Commander Sam merely loaded that engram on the assumption that it represented computer code that could be deciphered. It was a logical conclusion.

She nodded, the pieces coming together now. When we discovered that one image, we thought it might be a log recording, and tried to use the holodeck to replay it... We set it loose on the ship. The sense of failure was strong. Yes, she'd asked Sam if he'd taken precautions, and he'd said he had, but maybe if she'd checked herself, done something more to make sure things were secure.... The ship was almost destroyed, people on it killed.

You would not have known and it is not your responsibility. Sam was in command. He is your superior. He misjudged as much as doctor Sefton, Lieutenant Tagliesh or indeed Commander T'Kal.

Ben didn't misjudge, he had to rely on the expertise of others, she said, quick to defend him. She frowned. Sam is an android. I expected he was more of an expert in the computer systems than I, that I couldn't have made things any more secure than he had, but maybe I was wrong. She brought his hand to her chest.

It is illogical to assume that we will be able to deal with the unknown without making mistakes. He gave her a comforting mental caress. We do learn by our mistakes.

She nodded, taking comfort from him. She gave him a small smile. You always make me feel better about things.

Good. That pleases me for you to say so. I will endeavor to continue in that respect when you are released from this confinement. His mental tone was a caress.

I look forward to that, she said, relaxing further and closing her eyes. I need to get some rest, and so should you.

Yes...of course. I will leave you. Good night, Shirik. With that he broke the mental contact, smiled one last time and departed without another word.

"Rubber Ducky"
By Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer
Ensign Sepek - Flight Control Officer

Location: USS La Grange, Western Ocean, JJ324c
Stardate: 57908.20 21h00

***

A dank smell swirled inside the runabout's tight confines as Sepek opened the port side hatch to peer outside. He looked back inside at a small utility panel and called out, "Activating floods now."

"Acknowledged." Sanat watched as JJ324c's murky red water lit up below. He let his eyes roam a bit as they searched for their objective, one soggy escape pod. Its occupants were long gone, retrieved by Kit in the Mallory several hours ago so they could be returned to sickbay as quickly as possible. When he couldn't find it visually, the flight controller asked over his shoulder, "See it?"

Sepek scanned to his left and then to his right. "No. Perhaps the transponder is malfunctioning," he said.

Shrugging to himself, Vijay checked his panel to verify the coordinates. "This is the correct location...I'll sideslip us a bit further starboard." Without waiting for Sepek to confirm whether he had heard Sanat's intentions, the half-Vulcan tapped twice and the La Grange slid sideways 20 meters.

"Most illogical!"

Sanat twisted around to glance aft. "Is there a problem?"

Pulling himself upright, Sepek responded flatly, "It would have been more effective to issue a warning before proceeding."

"I did."

A blank expression accompanied the curt response, "Perhaps you should ensure someone is listening next time."

He smiled back much to Sepek's chagrin, "Should I also ensure you use the appropriate safety forcefield as outlined in SFR 120--."

"Your point is made, Ensign Vijay...shall we continue our mission to recover the pod?"

"Of course, Ensign Sepek. I know how much you really miss bridge duty." Sanat turned back to peer out the forward viewport. After scanning for several minutes he located a small greenish shape bobbing to his left. "Sepek. Look 30 meters to starboard. Can you verify that that is our missing pod?"

"Please wait while I use a visual aid."

Sanat smirked while he waited. Oh please...why can't you just say binoculars or magnifiers like everyone else?

"I have located your object. It is indeed our escape pod."

The senior pilot made a few quick calculations and then input the proper adjustments into his console's flight profile parameters. "Okay. I'm going to bring us over the pod...understood?"

"Understood."

He started moving the 'Grange. "Go ahead and let the grapple spool-out for retrieval." Sanat finished easing their ride portside.

"Why not simply tractor it?"

Without hesitation Vijay pointedly replied, "For starters, I want to let any residual water drain out before trapping it inside with the tractor beam's graviton field. I don't think Engineering's going to want to unfreeze the pod to reseat it into its mounting point," he made a minor station-keeping adjustment before continuing, "and if you remember Ensign Gainsborough's briefing about JJ324c's water composition...she specifically mentioned that the water here contains high amounts of metallic minerals."

"And you don't want to risk tractoring a load of water up with us."

I thought I just explained that. Sanat nodded, "Exactly. Is the grapple close enough?"

"It's almost touching now...another meter and we can initiate grappling."

The taller half-Vulcan let his eyebrow rise slightly as he queried Sepek, "Is this your first atmospheric recovery op, Sepek?"

"Yes. Why do you inquire?"

"Oh, no particular reason." Vijay rechecked his position relative to the pod.

"The grapple is in contact with the objective. Commencing grappling."

"Acknowledged."

There was a slight dip as the electromagnetic grapple securely attached itself to the escape pod. Sanat compensated and then started raising their altitude gradually to move both entities away from the musty smelling water.

"Grapple holding. It appears you were correct, there is water starting to drain from the pod."

His initial retort was going to be, "Duh," but the pilot restrained his urge to remind Sepek of the latter's apparent lack of experience in this type of operation. Instead, Sanat merely commented, "Inform me when the water stops draining from it."

"As you wish."

Tapping the panel, Sanat checked their flight status before engaging the comm system. "La Grange to Sulu."

"Sulu, go ahead La Grange."

Looking over his shoulder at the focused Sepek, Vijay said, "We have recovered Escape Pod 4D and will be returning it to the ship shortly."

"Acknowledged La Grange. Keep us informed about your progress."

Sanat smiled back at his console for no good reason. "Affirmative, Sulu. La Grange out."

***20 minutes later***

"Do you think we'll be coming back to JJ324c?"

He shrugged lightly. "I don't know for sure. Depends on whether we plan to obtain any fresh supplies or finish our archeological survey here. I'm sure we'll get the word soon enough." Sanat checked their spatial trajectory to ensure they would rendezvous with the Sulu on time and in the correct spot. "Tractor status?"

"Operating within normal parameters."

Resisting an urge to roll his eyes, Vijay asked in an effort to restrain another sarcastic quip, "Is it me or did Kit look really morose after his run to the surface?"

"Unknown. I do not try to ascertain the emotional state of others. It is illogical."

"What?!" The question literally burst forth from his lips. Sanat turned to stare at Sepek. "How do you expect to effectively command your subordinates if you have no idea what they are thinking or feeling?"

"They will do as they're instructed of course. Their job is to follow orders. As is yours or mine."

The senior flight controller snorted as he half-observed, half-asked, "You've never been in combat before...have you?" He was positive that Sepek had not been, but Vijay wanted to be sure.

"No. I was still attending the academy. However, there were many battle simulations and drills as part of the tactical curriculum."

They started leaving the troposphere for open space when Sanat said with some pessimism underlying his next statement, "Simulations and drills can't compare to real combat where people are dying and the ship's coming apart." His eyes darted to the panel and then back to Sepek. "People react to stress in a variety of ways...you can't merely dismiss their feelings as inconvenient or irrelevant.... You'll have some serious problems if you ignore them."

He got a typical Vulcan emotionless response, "I passed all evaluations concerning this topic. There is no logical reason to concern myself with other people's feelings when making a command decision."

Sanat murmured, "Until one of them shoots you in the back with a phaser...." He pointed to the Sulu's silhouette as it came into view. "There's home. I'm going to change our remaining way points to bring us along the port side."

"Acknowledged. I'll contact Engineering."

"Sulu, this is the La Grange. We're adjusting our projected trajectory to come along side the port nacelle."

"Confirmed La Grange. Steady as she goes."

"Will do Sulu. We'll contact you once we're ready to dock."

"Affirmative La Grange. Sulu out."

***30 minutes later***

"Why are you so concerned about Ensign Markham's emotional state?"

Sanat answered while lining up their final approach to the main shuttlebay, "Because he's a shipmate. I know we're not close, but that's not the point. Out here, we all have to stick together." The pilot slowed the La Grange to match the Sulu's orbital speed. "Contact the shuttlebay and have them prepare to assume helm control."

"Aye." The Vulcan made the call and then toggled off the runabout's comm system. "What do you really know about Ensign Markham?"

He took a distance reading before replying matter-of-factly, "Only what Mason's told me thus far. Kit and I haven't really talked outside of shift changeovers. We've always worked the opposite shift from one another. Why?"

"How do you know anything's wrong then?"

"Because Kit's normally a pretty friendly guy...earlier today, he seemed distracted...maybe even sorrowful. I dunno, my gut says something's happened." Vijay switched helm control to the remote mode so the bay controller could deactivate their propulsion output once he or she had a tractor beam lock.

"Was he in the upper bay when it depressurized?"

Vijay shook his head negatively. "I don't know...possibly. We were all supposed to get shuttles ready for departure, but I was in the Nightingale when it happened."

"Perhaps this is what is affecting him."

A blue beam of light lanced out of the bay and attached itself to the runabout's nose. The pilot watched as the remote helm control light went off and both impulse drive indicators dwindled to nominal power levels. He kept his hands at the ready position in case something went wrong before they made it through the doors. "It could be that...surviving a sudden depressurization might make me a little thoughtful too."

The La Grange entered the brightly lit hangar deck making Sanat blink his eyes to adjust them. He started shutting down nonessential systems as they neared their berthing pad. "Check the lateral dampers."

"Lateral damper status is green."

Vijay looked his right as the bay chief lowered them into position. "Prepare to engage moorings."

"Ready to engage moorings."

There was a slight bump and resulting thump as the runabout settled onto the decking. "Engage moorings."

"Aye. Moorings engaged."

The tall officer let his hands quickly glide over the various control panels as he turned off or powered down the La Grange's different systems. Within a few moments, the cabin was very quiet, when Sanat asked, "You heading to the bridge?"

"No. Marp has bridge duty tonight during Beta. I'll return my normal shift tomorrow night."

Sanat readily smiled as he stood. "Lucky you. I'll take care of the postflight inspection."

"Most kind. Thank you, Ensign Vijay."

He dipped his head. "Don't worry about. You can cover for me again sometime on Gamma."

"Certainly. Good night."

Vijay opened the door and moved aside for Sepek to depart. Just before the Vulcan exited, Sanat said, "Oh...meet me in Holodeck 2 tomorrow morning at 09h00." When Sepek raised a questioning eyebrow, Sanat smiled, "I think we need to practice some more atmospheric escape pod recoveries before the next time rolls around."

Sepek nodded and left the runabout without another word.

Watching him walk across the shuttlebay, Sanat uttered to himself while thinking about Kit, "I'm sure we'll be doing this again in the Gamma Quadrant all too soon...."

"Back Again"
By: Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.20, 21h00

***

Once again Calyca found her way back to Sickbay. She'd slept for nearly another five hours after leaving Shirik earlier, exhaustion and catnaps having taken their toll on the red-haired engineer. Fully rested now, she strode into the medical realm and paused as yet another of Shiri's 'friends' left her room. She stood out of the way and watched curiously as the half Vulcan Science Officer made his way through Sickbay and disappeared into the corridor. He seemed rather.... Well... Neutral, if a bit serene and pleased. She wasn't sure about the pleased bit though. She could almost hear her mother's deadpan comment of, 'Might have been gas...' She was smiling as she knocked lightly and stuck her head in to see if her friend was still awake.

"Up for another visitor? Or are you sick of me yet?"

Shirik grinned at the sound of her friend's voice, and gestured her inside.

"You are one busy woman, Shiri," Caly grinned and made her way over to perch on the bed beside her. "I saw the Science Officer leaving..."

Shirik nodded. 'That was Saavar.'

"Are you going to drink klaas when we have our 'talk'?" she asked, her tone lightly teasing. Caly had gotten used to the smell of klaas and it really didn't bother her any more. It still tasted awful though, no matter how much milk and sugar you tried to disguise it with.

'If I'm able,' she typed. 'I could really use some. The last time I attempted it, it ended up on the floor...'

Caly blinked and eyed Shirik. "On the floor? Good gods why?" Now that was a first.

'An Ensign from Ops sneaked me in some klaas, but in my current condition, with all the medications, I couldn't keep it down. I just missed hitting Sorg.' She grimaced at the memory.

"Oh dear...." She tried to refrain from laughing, and managed quite well. Although a small snicker found its way out despite her efforts. "Sorg? And he would be number three?" she queried as she made herself comfortable next to Shirik and began to gently undo her braid.

She nodded with a smile as she remembered their last meeting. 'Yes, he's enlisted, like you, and works in Security. He's sort of my bodyguard, T'Kal assigned him to the core in case of alien attack. He saved my life... When I was in the turbolift, and my lungs gave out, he was with me, and got me to sickbay in time. If not for him, I wouldn't be here now.'

Caly read as her fingers deftly undid the braid and began to comb rhythmically through the white strands that always felt like spun silk to her. "Well..." she said when Shirik was done with her tale, a heartfelt sigh echoing what she was feeling inside. "I like your Sorg. I'll have to thank him for keeping you around." She smiled a little wryly, leaving unspoken what might have happened. She hmmm'd quietly in thought for a moment before speaking again. "Why do you need a bodyguard, Shiri?"

'I don't need one. And he's not one, really... I just sort of think of him that way, he's my guard.' She shrugged. 'I used to work in the core alone, until T'Kal assigned him there to stand post during my shift. You should have seen the way he drooled all over himself the first day he was there.' She grinned.

"Drooled?" she laughed. T'Kal assigned him... Now how interesting was that? "Is that normal? To post a guard in the computer core?" she asked curiously, her fingers still combing through Shirik's hair, ridding it of all its tangles. "Is he smitten with you?"

'No, not really, but since we're in the Gamma quadrant, apparently T'Kal thinks we all need to be ready in case of attack, and he also seems to think the core would be a primary target, so... I get a guard. I wasn't thrilled with the idea at first, but Sorg isn't any problem. He stays out of my way so I can work, and does what I tell him to.' She thought for a moment and nodded. 'Yes, I think so.'

"Makes sense," Caly nodded absently. "Is that a good thing? Or bad?" she asked and then smiled as she asked her next question. "Are you smitten with him?"

'Likely bad, in the long run,' she frowned. 'And this topic is better addressed once I get out of here. But to answer your question, no.'

"Mmm.... I hate this," she sighed softly and began rebraiding Shirik's hair. "But I'll be patient. Might kill me though," she added not very convincingly. "One last question and then I'll drop the subject until you're out of here," she said, fully believing that her friend would recover. "Sa nim pan ni'ga tala un am nika?" Are you smitten with any of them? she asked in Drokari... Just in case they were overheard. She had a fairly educated guess as to the answer and even which one, but she remained quiet and let Shirik answer.

'Later,' she typed. She knew Caly would already have ideas, or she wouldn't have asked.

"Now why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?" she asked, a small smile curving her lips. "How about... Who's Saavar besides the Science Officer?"

'That's a very long story that I will tell you once I have my voice to do it justice,' she typed. 'Suffice it to say, we're rather close.'

Caly leaned forward and looked around Shirik so she could see her face and eyes. "Close, close?" and green eyes filled in the 'intimate' close.

Shirik just gave her an even look that clearly said she would speak on the topic no further. A look that told Caly pretty much all she wanted to know. Well, not all she wanted to know, because she wanted to know everything. But it effectively quelled any more questions on the subject.

"Hmmm... Well then." She sat back and finished braiding her friend's hair. "Have you heard anything more about how the treatment is doing?"

She nodded with a smile, and relaxed now that the conversation had turned to other subjects. 'The doctor said I'm responding well, and should be able to leave sickbay in a few days.'

Caly's fingers stilled for several heartbeats and anyone seeing her face and eyes would have seen the utter relief wash through her. No matter how brave and positive she'd sounded for Shirik's sake, she'd been dreadfully scared and worried inside. "Now that's the best news I've heard all day. I knew that doctor was good," she grinned and tweaked Shirik's hair. "Feel better now, Shiri?" she asked softly.

She nodded. 'I do. It's good to know my will won't be needed just yet.'

Caly tied off the end of the braid and impulsively hugged her friend. "Good. I'm glad." She smiled and looked into Shirik's face. "Tired?"

She nodded. 'I need to get some sleep. Where do you want to have our talk when I get out of here? I have a roommate, but she's gone a lot of the time.'

"Hmmm... Then how about my room?" Caly suggested as she rose from the bed and smoothed out her uniform.

'Do you have a roommate?'

Caly shook her head as she read the question. "Nope. By myself."

She grinned. 'Perfect. I'll let you know when I'm out of here, and we can spend an evening catching up, swapping tales, and maybe having a few drinks.'

"Get some sleep and get better," Caly smiled. "I'll check back in whenever I can. Things are still pretty hectic with all the repairs." She reached out and lightly squeezed her arm. "Shas suk, mis ni'gef." Sleep well, my friend.

She nodded with a smile. 'You too.'

After another moment or two, Caly made her way from the room, leaving Shirik to rest.

"Dreamcatcher"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Lt. (jg) Arthas Hex - Asst. Chief of Security
Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.20 22h00

***

Benedict T'Kal stood beside Arthas Hex at the Tactical station of the Sulu's Bridge while the Trill worked. Benedict was officially on Alpha shift, but with the recent mess and all the work, the loss of another security officer; Ner'c and the injury to the XO, Benedict had simply caught five hours sleep after Alpha and returned to duty. Tayla was in Sickbay, and Sefton had told him that she would be there another day at least; and the doctor's weary expression told him how much Lyrr Tayla had liked that idea. So now he quietly discussed security arrangements with his 2IC while the other stations on the Bridge went about the tasks related to making the ship ready again.

"I had Case and Finn restoring the photon torpedo systems," Arthas reported as his fingers danced on the tactical displays. "Everything checks out so far. I think we avoided a lot of damage. Case took initiative." Hex looked up at T'Kal and the Security Chief nodded. "What are we going to do about the other incident?" The Trill's meaningful look told Benedict which incident he was referring to.

"I'm taking care of it. D'Naal's report didn't go as far as to lodge an official complaint. She simply stated that the situation was adequately resolved. Under the circumstances I can't blame her, but it highlights an issue we have to deal with. I'll get Case to handle it unofficially - he seemed to get on well with Farrell when we discussed the Sam issue."

Hex nodded. "Gredala's experience agrees with your assessment. If we call official attention to the phaser incident, we have to carry it through to the ultimate conclusion - then we'll have to investigate the rioting officers...bad for morale all round. I think it was an isolated incident."

Benedict gave him a nod as he commenced a level two diagnostic on the aft phaser array control interface. "We've had enough bad luck already."

Arthas Hex gave the Bajoran a speculative look. "Starfleet, like any service is very superstitious. Talking bad luck is not a subject that should be heard." Hex grinned. "Sir."

T'Kal nodded and smiled. "Okay. I'm going to Sickbay."

"How is she?" Hex asked softly.

"She'll be okay...it was close." Benedict shrugged.

"I'll handle things until Bennett comes on duty." Arthas grinned. "Don't hurry back, Chief."

Benedict grinned and nodded. "Okay fine...I can see you've got things under control. If you need me I'll be in sickbay."

"G'Night, Chief." Arthas continued with the diagnostic as Benedict walked off the Bridge.

It was a short trip to Sickbay. The beds were filled with injured and the medical staff were quietly circulating. Lighting was subdued this late in the ship's day, and most of the inhabitants were trying to sleep. Lyrr was curled up fast asleep when he approached the bed.

He smiled down at her and pulled up the chair. Seating himself he watched her for a while. She murmured and her head moved as she dreamed, which was usual for her. Benedict had gotten used to her tossing in sleep, though her rest had been better lately. He reached over and slid his hand over hers and she quieted. A slight smile touched her face and she curled up a little tighter. He smiled too, feeling more than a little protective of her. She had said many times that she feared sleeping alone, and now he hated the thought of leaving her here alone. He didn't like the thought of going back to their quarters and tossing all night because she wasn't there. He'd gotten a few hours sleep, but only because he'd been dead on his feet.

Benedict leaned against the bed and made himself semi-comfortable. Tayla was curled up fast asleep and holding his hand so he wasn't going anywhere. He watched the duty nurse make her rounds, moving from biobed to biobed, checking with a tricorder and administering medications where needed. She looked efficient, slender and dark haired, she moved with an unconscious grace. She caught Benedict's eyes and he smiled at her. Sitting in semi-darkness as he was, he was a dark shadow with raven hair. He nodded as she came over to Lyrr with her tricorder.

At this point Raina should have technically been off duty but with the recent chaos it had taken awhile to get things wrapped up. She finished up her latest task then prepared to leave sickbay. However Raina Derrell soon found herself distracted by a new comer to sickbay. "Can I help you with anything?"

Benedict grinned in the half light. "I'd kill for a black coffee," he whispered. He indicated the fact that Lyrr was holding on to his hand and his expression was almost unreadable in the shadows. "Is she okay?" He nodded at Tayla. "I got off shift a little while ago...you don't mind me sitting here do you?"

"The coffee is an easy request," Raina commented with a slight smile. "I'll see what I can do about keeping the on shift medical staff off your back. To answer your question Lyrr was sedated so she can heal. No I don't mind you keeping her company."

Benedict nodded his thanks. "How's it been?" he asked, motioning to the rest of sickbay. "I think the medical staff have been nothing short of miraculous in the last couple weeks," he whispered. "I think if there's one department that held it together, it was this one. You should be proud."

Raina paused for a moment to seriously consider his comments. "Thanks for the kind words. I can't deny it's been a very rough, tiring couple of weeks. R&R sounds more than a bit inviting right now."

"You deserve some," he said with a kind smile. "I owe you guys a debt I can't repay." He looked down at Lyrr holding his hand. "Thanks for saving her life." He looked back up at Raina.

"We were only doing our jobs," Rain