Nexi couldn't stop blinking! Vaemyn had come around to do some scans earlier, and for a while she seemed fine, but then she became shrouded in wispy darkness and once she started disappearing and reappearing, she couldn't stop! There was always a transporter chief on alert who had a continual lock on Nexi since the day she blinked outside the ship, and today the chief reacted quickly to the call that Nexi was on the move again, swiftly beaming Nexi back to the protected isolation ward where she continued to blink around the room uncontrollably. There were nurses standing by to tend to her once she calmed down, but they were unable to open the door and thus risk letting her loose on the ship, not until Nexi had stopped, and for now they could see through the observation window that Nexi was still going.

And this was how Akira and Hermes found Sickbay upon entering, a nurse by Nexi's door waiting for Nexi to exhaust herself and come to a stop so that it was safe to enter, and a bit of disarray in the rest of the bay from all of Nexi's blinking, with personnel cleaning up in the wake of this torrential episode.

Hermes gasped in surprise when he saw Nexi.

"I didn't realize it had gotten this bad," he said. Hermes walked up to the isolation chamber and put his palm on the glass. He was about to say something to Nexi, but then seemed to realize that she wouldn't be able to hear him. He looked at the wall console outside of the isochamber for a moment, found the control he wanted, and opened the intercom channel to the chamber. "Nexi, my dear girl, can you hear me? It's Hermes."

"Hermes?" Nexi replied, not recognizing the name at all. Then the shroud consumed her and she blinked across the room, then just as quickly appeared on the ceiling and falling to the ground, and just before she could hit the deck she blinked again, the momentum of her fall slamming her into the glass. "Bodie?" she said when she recognized his face. Her voice was raw, evidence that she had been doing a lot of screaming lately. "Bodie, you gotta get me outta here! They've done something to me, please, you can't... can't let me die in here!"

"Crap," Hermes said. "Yes, it's me, Bodie. Shh...there's a good girl. These people are your friends, just like me. They just want to help you. But you have to try and relax. Panicking is just going to make things worse. Oh, listen to me. I must sound terribly stupid right now. I'm just going to talk to Akira here and some of the Sickbay staff and see if I can't help you stay in one place. Okay?"

"No no, Bodie, don't go, I-" Nexi was cut off as she once again was shrouded in darkness and started blinking uncontrollably around the room.

Akira looked aghast at the sight of Nexi disappearing and reappearing in spastic jaunts. "This is terrible!" she said, clearly shocked by the state Nexi was in.

"It's going to be okay, Nexi," Hermes said. "Your old friend Bodie is right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Hermes turned to Akira.

"I assume there is a containment field," Hermes said. "Even if it's just a backup, in case of physical containment breech. Which console controls it? Quickly little one, before she ports somewhere dangerous!"

"The room is already secure," one of the nurses spoke up. "We can keep her in her room, but we can't suppress whatever she's doing, so she just jumps around in there until she exhausts herself."

Even knowing that Nexi was safely contained, Akira felt compelled to do as Hermes said and checked the controls for herself. "Being that active will put a strain on the containment field; I'll check the field frequencies and make sure the back up is ready in case of primary failure," Akira said as she tucked herself at console to work. All the while Nexi kept throwing herself around the room.

"I might be able to," Hermes said. He went over to the console and aimed his left wrist device at it and touch one of what appeared to be stones in the wrist piece, but were obviously controls of some kind. He hadn't wanted to let out that he could so easily hack the Hera's systems, but Nexi needed his help. It wasn't exactly clear to those watching him what he had done, but clearly he had learned something from it. "Alright, I think I can help here. I just have to run to my ship for a moment. Back in a flash! Well, two, actually."

There was, you guessed it, a flash, and Hermes disappeared. A moment later there was another, you guessed it, flash, and Hermes reappeared. In his hand was a a cubical device of some kind. He placed it on a flat surface at the top of the console controlling the containment field. There was a click as it locked to the surface. Hermes pressed a control on his belt device this time and the cube began to beep and hum and then flash different colors on it's surfaces, different colors on each of it's surfaces. Finally, the beeping stopped, and the cube seemed to find a color combination it liked. The containment field activated. Nexi blinked a few more times, and then the blinking stopped.

"And there were are!" Hermes said. "That should hold her, at least for a while. That was part of a device I used to corral a Q once. It didn't actually hold her as long as I wanted it to, but, while the Master was powerful, he was no Q. How are you feeling Nexi?"

Nexi collapsed on the floor. "Help..." was all she was able to say with pathetic whimper, and in response the nurses rushed in to check her vitals. Sunny and Mister Pickles were unable to blink in with the field now suppressing that ability, so they appeared just outside the room and entered through the door, worried about their master.

"Poor girl, she's exhausted," one of the nurses commented as together they lifted Nexi and got her onto the biobed. "Let's get her started on some fluids, and inform Nurse Ulfred and Lieutenant Vaemyn of her condition, they'll want to be updated." Personnel scattered to do as ordered, leaving Nexi with just the one nurse to continue monitoring her.

At the console, Akira silently studied what the cube had done to the containment field and was learning all she could from it so that maybe they could continue to utilize this trick after Hermes left with his neat little toy.

"Nexi," Hermes said. "It's Bodie. Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"Bodie..." Nexi said, barely coherent. "I can't... can't find an exit... Where are we? Where's the 'Star?"

"We're on the USS Hera," Hermes said. "This is where you live and work now, with your sister and Enalia and Mal and Clio and T'Pral and Akira and Daytona. You're even a Starfleet officer of all things. The Wandering Star is secure, so don't worry about that."

"Fucking Starfleet?" Nexi tried to sit up, but the nurse monitoring her held her down, and Nexi was so weak it took very little effort at all. "Bodie, why would you let me join Starfleet of all the fucking things?"

Hermes chuckled.

"Well," Hermes said. "You didn't really ask for my opinion on the matter at the time. No one was more surprised than me to find you in Starfleet. Still, having met some of your friends here, I think it was a good choice for you."

One of the nurses returned with a IV stand and a bag of saline which they quickly set up and ran a line to Nexi. Nexi's only response was to grimace. "What's happening to me?" she asked of no one in particular.

"You've got a bit of an...infection," Hermes said. "You cut a very bad person and his blood got into a cut on your body. It's having some very strange effects. Some of your friends have since been infected, not by you, don't worry about that, but they're infected nonetheless. I don't want you to worry, though. We have a lead on a cure for the infection. As soon as the Hera is ready to leave, Enalia is taking you and the others to the planet where we think the cure can be found. And, if we're wrong and the cure isn't there, then I'll scour the galaxy until I find a cure. On that, you have my word."

"I don't want to die," Nexi said in a raspy whisper as tears welled up in her eyes. "The life we live... no one ever lives to retirement, 'cept maybe you... Always knew I'd die young, it never bothered me, but now... I don't wanna go, not like this..." Nexi turned her head to look at Hermes, the man that in this moment she only knew as her friend and information contact Bodie. "One of these days you'll have to tell me your secret, how you get your information and travel so fast, or how you got out of that standoff on Daneb IV unscathed."

"You're not going to die," Hermes said. "Not yet, anyway, and not like this. I've actually already told some of my 'secrets', but something happened and your memories are a bit mixed up at the moment. I can fill you in again, if you'd like."

"Yeah... that sounds..." Nexi trailed off and her eyes closed. Alarms on the biobed and the nurse's tricorder sounded off, then the wispy shroud of darkness surrounded her again, but the containment field protecting the room was able to keep her from moving from the biobed. The sensors didn't know what to make of her current state as she was not really here but neither was she entirely 'gone', she was stuck somewhere in between.

"Nexi?" Hermes said. "Nexi? Can you hear me?"

Hermes looked over at the cube with a worried expression on his face, as if it was supposed to be doing something and wasn't. He muttered a curse and began playing with his devices. The cube began to flicker again, and continued to flicker, as if it was searching for the correct frequency.

"Damn," he said. "The cube and Nexi's new found and completely uncontrolled abilities are having a pissing contest. I think...there! That will hold for a bit, and it should be able to auto correct now. I've linked the cube to my ship's computer, and I've directed my ship to pull alongside the Hera for the time being to make sure the link is solid. Nexi, can you hear me now?"

"Please tell me you'll leave this device here with us for a while," Akira muttered as she studied the new readings.

In the isolation chamber, Nexi resolidified and the shroud dispersed. "Bodie?" she said with confusion when she saw Hermes. "Where are we? I thought we were meeting on Deneb IV. Is the cargo secure?"

"Nexi," Hermes said. "That was all over quite a while ago. You're on the Hera now, where you live and work with your new friends and your sister. You're just having a really bad day. You're sick, but we're working on making you better. I've got something that I think will help."

Hermes reached into his pocket and pulled out a hypo and turned to the nurse.

"I'm going give her this," he said. "Don't ask me what it is, but it was designed for her and it should help stabilize her. Don't worry about opening the chamber."

Hermes touched a control on his belt and there were two flashes, one where he had been standing outside of the isolation chamber and another where he appeared inside the chamber. Before anyone could object, he injected Nexi. Then he took her hand.

"You should start to feel better soon," he said. "And I've got more where that came from."

The nurse had no objections; if this guy had something to help Nexi, then she desperately welcomed the assistance.

Upon being injected, Nexi gasped as the sudden sense of clarity she felt; the memories weren't coming back, but she had a sense that she knew what her friend was talking about, the infection and the missing memories, so she had no cause to doubt his words.

"Bodie?" she said. Her gaze seemed more focused, a sign that she was already more lucid. "Thank you," she said with relief as the contents of the hypo seemed to calm something within her. "Oh fuck, I feel... I feel like shit, and so tired," she said with a groan.

"When was the last time you got any sleep?" he asked. "You look like you've been awake for days. No offense."

"I... I don't know," Nexi replied. She had actually gotten some sleep the night before, not enough but some sleep was better than nothing, but the real damage to her was all that blinking, it taxed her body in ways that sleep alone could take ages to repair. "Fuck, feels like I ain't slept in weeks!" she said, then yawned. "You're not going to run off with my cargo if I fall asleep, will ya?"

Hermes smiled.

"If I did," he said. "You'd never catch me! The chase might be fun, though. Now, get some sleep. I'll sit here with you for a while and make sure everything is going as it should. If I'm not here when you wake up and you want me to catch you up, have someone find me."

Hermes looked through the window of the isolation chamber and found what he was looking for: a chair. He touched a stone on his belt and there were again two flashes. One when the chair disappeared outside of the isolation chamber, and another when the chair appeared behind Hermes, perfectly placed. The faux god sat down next to his young friend, her hand still in his.

"You're a good friend," Nexi replied with a lazy grin, her eyes drooping as sleep threatened to claim her, which it did a moment later.

Normally, when something happened to Nexi, Aewia was usually alerted immediately since she was family and thus concerned for Nexi's safety, but in the chaos of Nexi's destruction of Sickbay it had briefly slipped the minds of the nurses; perhaps if Nexi had asked for Aewia as she often did then they would have remembered sooner, but Nexi's memories seemed to be snapping her further and further back today, and it wasn't until hours after Hermes' visit and assistance that one of the nursing staff remembered Aewia and sent someone to inform her.

And so, as the hour grew later into the evening, a chime sounded from Aewia's door.

Aewia already knew who it was and why they were there but was unsure if she should act surprised or distraught or just tell the truth about her own issues. Sighing, she relented and got up to press the door controls herself. Her new friend was lounging on the back of the sofa but looked up curiously as the door opened. "Hey. It's good to see you."

"Is it?" replied the random nurse that had been sent to inform Aewia of Nexi's condition. "Nexi's had another episode and she's in bad shape..." The nurse trailed off as she noticed the giant demonic feline lounging on the sofa. "You've done it too?! You're supposed to report to Sickbay to report any changes in your condition!" the nurse scolded.

"Yeah, about that..." Aewia glanced over at the demonic panther as it found the two of them uninteresting and returned to its nap. "I just woke up and I'm still trying to sort things out. I'll head there now but no promises if he'll follow me though."

The nurse sighed. "Fine," she said in reply; she had owned enough cats to know that one could never make a cat do anything they didn't want to do. With that, the nurse escorted Aewia to Sickbay. Upon entering, Aewia could see there was still some disarray from Nexi's blinking episode that was being cleaned up, but Sickbay was more or less back to business as usual. Through the observation window of the Isolation chamber, they could see that Nexi was resting comfortably for probably the first time in a long time since being infected, all thanks to Hermes.

"She's exhausted and resting, and we've got her hooked up to a line to replenish fluids and nutrients, so she should feel much better once she finally wakes," the nurse briefed Aewia as they passed by the room. "Hermes was able to suppress her abilitiy and gave her something that seemed to clear her head."

Another odd sight in Sickbay was the presence of Akira; not normally one to need the assistance of medical, she was seated at a console near the isolation chamber and seemed to be staring into nothingness as she ran complex calculations in her head.

"That's good at least." Aewia commented as the demonic cat slunk from seemingly nothing and hopped up onto a biobed, pretending that it was just coincidence that he was in the same room as Aewia and started cleaning one of his paws. Shaking her head at the sight of the panther, Aewia headed over to Akira and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Those are some complex calculations. I hate to interrupt, but how are you doing?"

The nurse let Aewia converse with Akira while she got the scanners ready for Aeiwa and the demonic cat. Although Akira did not immediately respond to the greeting, instead offering a very computer-like, "Standby," as she finished the current round of calculations and saved her progress. Then she seemed to snap to and blink rapidly as she regained her equilibrium.

"Apologies, Aewia, those calculations required my full attention," Akira said politely as she offered a warm smile. "I am doing well, thank you for asking. Have you come to visit Nexi? I'm sorry to inform you that she is currently resting."

Aewia pressed a hand to the observation window. "Yeah I see that. She's dreaming of her younger days. It seems her memories are all sorts of scrambled right now. But I'm here for another reason - it seems I'm further along than expected. I have a pet demon cat now."

"Oh my, that's not good," Akira stated. "It seems I will have to prepare another isolation chamber," she said with some sadness, especially since she was already preparing one for T'Pral. "Nexi was able to hold this off for so long, I wonder why you and T'Pral seem to be succumbing so much faster."

"I should be fine for a while, though prepping another chamber is a good idea. We'll be bringing the Commodore with us." Then Aewia realized she probably shouldn't have let that cat out of the bag as Enalia hadn't been informed of that command decision yet. Grinning a bit awkwardly yet maniacally, she turned to Akira. "Oh yeah, I can hear the thoughts of every biological and artificial entity in this solar system now. Farenia is far worse off than my sister, too, so she'll be in a stasis chamber when she's transferred."

"Goodness, that must be terribly distracting," Akira remarked. "Mr. Hermes left behind a device that is suppressing Nexi's abilities so that she can stay in place long enough to get some rest; that was what I was working on when you came, the Science and Math is beyond anything Federation knowledge is capable of understanding, but perhaps with enough study I can find a way suppress the intensity of your abilities," she offered.

"It is a bit distracting." Turning back to look at Nexi through the window, Aewia's voice took on a faraway, otherworldly quality to it. "It's like I'm all of those people... and yet none of them... The voices of even the deck plating whisper to me... The depths of the sun call out my name... telling me their secrets..." Suddenly Aewia's demon panther hopped off its biobed perch and sauntered over to her and nuzzled against her, breaking her from her trance. Giggling a bit, she gave the giant cat some scritches behind its ears. "And that's why you're here, right? To keep me grounded?"

Even the deck plating? It was then that Akira realized that Aewia had been aware of her calculations, a realization that Aewia could read her even though she was an artificial life form! This caused Akira to smile, as though it somehow affirmed what Hermes had said to her earlier. "You take good care of her while I work on a solution, Mr Kitty," Akira said cheerfully to the panther. "And I promise, we'll take good care of your master."

The panther looked up at Akira, blinked its six red eyes at her, yawned a big toothy yawn, and started purring with a deep throaty tone.

Aewia chuckled softly and pet her new friend some more. "Mister Kitty huh? I think that means he will. I think the medics are waiting for me now so I should probably get my black blood levels checked. Thank you Akira. Be sure to get some rest though. We don't need you wearing yourself out."

Akira smiled, but her brow was furrowed with concern. "I am trying, but there's so much to see to, sometimes it feels like there's never a moment's peace. At the moment the fatigue I feel is simply an emulation, but I will rest before it becomes real," Akira said in promise to Aewia.

"Ok but you have an entire department waiting for you to use them. Don't try to do everything yourself. And have someone check you over to make sure you're not pushing yourself too hard just in case." Aewia nodded once more and turned towards the waiting nurse.

"I am, and I will," Akira affirmed, then as Aewia departed to get scanned, Akira returned to her calculation; it had been a long road to get here and they still had so far to go...

Mal sat in his chair and played his aulos (a Greco-Roman instrument made up of two recorder-like flutes played simultaneously) as he took a break from his work. The tune was one his grandfather had written many years ago, his actual grandfather. Though he called Hermes 'Grandfather', it was a term of respect. The faux god Hermes was father of the faux god Pan. The faux god Pan had created Mal's race and culture. If Pan was the 'father' of Mal's people, it made sense to Mal that Hermes was his people's 'grandfather'. The tune he played was haunting and quite beautiful. Mal continued to enjoy playing until his next appointment arrived. He was scheduled to meet with the Hera's new Chief Medical Officer.

Lysander was only limping slightly today, but he carried the cane that he'd carved when he was bedridden so that he might regain his mobility. The dragon that wrapped around the staff was delicately and beautifully detailed, and represented his own inner strength. Rubies for eyes glittered at him as he used it to balance as he pressed the chime to the XO's office.

Mal heard the chime and stopped playing his aulos. He checked the sensor outside his office and saw that his visitor was the new CMO, Lieutenant Matthew Lysander.

"You may enter, Doctor," he said, releasing the lock on the door. He rose and came out from behind his desk to greet his guest.

It was almost a shame that he'd stopped playing, the music had been quite lovely though faint as it came through the door. Entering the room, his eyes swept over the decor, before inclining his head to the man across from him "Commander."

"Welcome, Lieutenant," Mal said. "Come, sit, relax."

Using his cane as a lever to lower himself into a seat, he was pleased to find that the action didn't cause him pain. "My thanks."

"So, Lieutenant," Mal said, returning to his chair. "I'd like to give you a few weeks to settle in, but unfortunately, I can't. We have several severely ill crew members who will need your care while we pursue a cure for their condition. We have a lead and will be pursuing that lead as soon as the Hera is ready to leave. Lieutenants Ulfred and Vaemyn and Miss Zhuri and Crewman Dedjoy can fill you in on the details of the situation."

"I read the public reports on my way here. I was wondering what was left out, as it seemed too neat a picture." a chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. If four different people need to fill me in, it must be much more dire than I'd initially thought. "I'll not stumble as far as my duties are concerned sir."

"Suffice to say," Mal said. "The sooner we get where we're going, find a cure, and use it, the better. The infection, in addition to physical effects, ramps up aggression and lowers emotional control. Since all of the people infected are highly trained combatants, including a Vulcan and a Vulcanoid Rigelian, I'm sure you can imagine the potential problems we face here."

"Yes, quite" he muttered wincing a little at the potential ramifications. "Are the effected males or females out of curiosity?"

"Chief Warrant Officer Daytona Ral is a Vulcanoid Rigelian/El-Aurian hybrid male, around four hundred and twenty-two years old," Mal said. "Lieutenant Commander Enaes Clio is a Cervan female in her forties, Lieutenant Commander T'Pral Jordan is a Vulcan/Human hybrid female in her early thirties, Staff Warrant Officer Nexi is a Betazoid/Brekkian female in her late twenties, and her half-sister Aewia Larani is a Betazoid female, a few years younger than Nexi. Nexi has been infected the longest and is so far the most extreme case. We have to keep Nexi locked up in an isolation chamber in order to contain her. Even then, it required the intervention of Hermes...yes, that Hermes, to actually keep her from teleporting all over the ship, once even outside of the ship. She hadn't slept for days. When Hermes stopped in to see how she was doing, he immediately used a piece of advanced technology to keep Nexi stationary. On its own, the tech apparently kept her in the room, but she still kept porting around the room. In order to keep her from doing that so the nurses could get some fluids into her and so she could rest, Hermes was forced to link the device to his ship's computer. He's in the process of assembling a portable processor that, when linked to our computer core, should allow the device stabilizing and containing Nexi to continue to do so even if his ship isn't present. He may not be able to accompany us. Danu might not appreciate his involvement."

"I have climbed into a book of myths. How fascinating" Matthew murmerred as he tapped his lips pensively with a fingertip.

Mal chuckled.

"Your ship's executive officer is a satyr whose entire race was created by an powerful being from a technologically advanced race that posed as the deities of various Old Earth pantheons," he said. "This officer very recently engaged in a melee battle with a Minotaur and several Amazons and Harpies in order to defend Hermes from Hera. The ship's Chief Intelligence Officer and Chief Security/Tactical Officer recently killed an Iconian 'demon' using a sword and spear on loan to us from Hephaestus. Myth and legend are pretty standard around here."

Mal regarded the doctor for a moment.

"Okay," he said. "No for a sensitive topic. Due to everyone being sick, I was thinking of asking you to be on the Away Team for this upcoming mission. If you'd rather remain here to monitor the infected crewmembers, I suppose we could send Lieutenant Ulfred, your head nurse, in your place. The tricky part is that we will in infiltrating a pre-industrial society, roughly equivalent to Earth's Iron Age. If you are on the Away Team, would we be able to conceal your exoskeleton under a baggy pair of pants, or perhaps a robe of sorts?"

"I suspect that my walking stick would not cause too much suspicion to be drawn my way if I were to forego the exoskeleton. I also suspect the infected will be just as alright with me on the Away Team, as they would be with me here given the short time frame." His voice was thoughtful as he replied to the Exec.

"Alright then," Mal said. "So, I'll leave you to get caught up on patient files and otherwise prepare for the upcoming mission. Welcome aboard, Doctor."

"My thanks Commander." Matthew answered softly, offering his hand to the Pan-like creature. Briefly he wondered if he'd found the rabbit hole for which Alice was so well known for falling into.

Mal shook the offered hand and then rose from his seat.

"Come," he said, offering the doctor some assistance rising from his chair. "I'll walk you out."

Daytona cursed as a corpsman helped him stretch his new leg. The new leg had been cloned from his old leg, so it had come complete with the same amount of muscle mass as the original. It wasn't weak, but these muscles hadn't ever been used before. The muscles were tight and moving his foot caused extreme pain as he and the corpsman slowly loosened them up. Some of the pain was also being caused as the new leg got used to his body's electrical impulses and blood flowing through it. It hurt and it felt very strange. Like it was his leg, but not really his leg. Because it was a cloned limb, there was no issue of rejection by his immune system, but his body was not 100% comfortable with the new leg yet.

"Sorry," Daytona said to the corpsman, Marci, and Akira. "This really hurts, and feels really strange."

"I've heard worse," Marci responded dryly, gently prodding those stiff muscles and signaling for the corpsman to ease up on the stretch slightly. "This will be easier on you if you take a muscle relaxant. It would help loosen the new muscles and let the blood flow easier."

Daytona frowned.

"Alright," he said. "If you insist, but go easy. I don't want to spend my whole recovery in a haze."

"A tiny, baby dose of norflex. You'll be fine." Marci didn't want Daytona drugged enough to get hazy, but she did have the proposed hypospray in her pocket. She fished it out and dialed it back to a half dose before gently injecting it near the stiff muscles but not directly into any painful areas. "We can also try heat therapy once you're done with these sessions each day."

"Can I try walking a bit?" Daytona said. "Using the...what do you call them? They look like parallel bars."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Akira asked in a worried tone, but stood close by to help support him.

"The first time is going to hurt or at least be really awkward no matter how long I wait," Daytona said. "Might as well get it out of the way as quickly as possible. Besides, the sooner I start, the sooner I'll get better. What do you say, Lieutenant?"

"If you feel like trying, there's no harm in it." Marci glanced to the side and saw that an orderly was already bringing the equipment over. "Just go slowly and be careful."

"Uhm..." Daytona said after he sat up and gingerly swung his legs off of the table. "I'm going to need a little help getting over there, and by little, I mean a lot, but I'm saying a little so I won't feel so helpless."

"I'm here," Akira offered as she stepped in to help support him. "I won't let you fall," she promised as the orderly set the walking support apparatus in front of Daytona.

"I won't either. Come on." Marci was almost a foot shorter than Daytona and most definitely not as strong as Akira. But she gave Daytona her hand and linked her other arm with his to give them some leverage. "Ready on three. One, two, three." As she finished her count, Marci applied gentle but firm pressure to help lift Daytona off the bed.

Daytona let the women help him up. They were both smaller than him, but they were also strong, particularly Akira in her new body. They lifted him relatively easily. However, while Akira could support his weight if he hopped on one leg over to the bars, Marci probably couldn't. Daytona was going to try to put some weight on the new leg even before he got to the bars. He gingerly tested his footing, slowly putting weight onto his left leg.

"OW!" he snarled, his grip on the women helping him tightening. "Gods damned miserable, mangy cur! I'll kill you for this! And that filthy bitch that spawned you!"

Daytona froze there a moment, murder in his eyes, breathing hard, before regaining control of himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, calmer now. "I've tried to be very careful about giving in to the black blood infection. I seem to have failed for a moment. Please excuse me. Shall we continue?"

Without waiting for an answer, Daytona forced himself to take a step. The strain he was under was evident in his face and he occasionally grunted in pain, but quickly moved on. He arrived at the parallel bars and transferred his weight from the women to the bars.

"Okay," he said. "Would either of you like to wager on whether or not I make it to the other side without falling? There's a bottle of cold distilled, spiced applejack from my family's distillery in it for you if you win the bet, Lieutenant. Akira hates alcohol, but I'm sure she'll think of something she'd like to win."

"Hate to say it, but if you fall you'd take me with you. So I'm afraid falling isn't allowed." Despite wanting dearly to snap back at Daytona after that outburst, she kept her tone as level and friendly as possible. Somehow, she kept that pesky inner wolf at bay, the only sign of such struggle a brief lightening of her eyes toward gold. And her hair getting a bit... fluffier as it attempted to bristle on her humanoid frame. Daytona was distracted and might not notice, but Akira likely did. "Try again."

Daytona looked at Marci a moment, realizing she might have misunderstood.

"I was talking about the Hellhound," he said as he took another step. "Before. When I yelled. Mister Cucumber or whatever the Hells his name is. And Nexi. Not you or your mother. I've never actually seen you all wolfed out, so I have no idea if you're mangy. I suppose that, technically, in her wolf form, you mother could be considered a bitch in the biological sense, I'd certainly never refer to her that way...OW! Okay...give me a second...alright, let's keep going."

"I'm aware of who you meant. She doesn't have control over when Pickles and Sunny manifest. This wasn't her fault." Marci paused, shifting to support Daytona's weight more fully. "I didn't think you knew about... that part of me."

"I may have mentioned it a time or two while he was recovering," Akira replied meekly, still somewhat stunned by Daytona's outburst. "I was quite surprised to see you when we came back to the ship after being on the Dyson Sphere, and then you became a person, it was quite shocking to say the least, yet utterly fascinating! But was I not supposed to tell anyone? If I had known it was meant to be something private, I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, it's all right. It's not a secret... I just hadn't told anyone." Marci shrugged slightly. "Cat's out of the bag now."

"Don't you mean wolf's out of the bag?" Daytona said. He grimaced as he took his first step. "Ow. Well, that was less of an 'ow' than the first several steps. I guess I really do just need to get used to using the new leg...damn it!"

Said new leg gave out and Daytona started to fall, but managed to keep himself upright.

"No!" he said, sharply, stopping the women from coming to his aid. "I can do this myself. It really is getting easier. I might even make it to the other side."

Akira remained at his side, more to keep him steady than to hold him upright as he seemed so keen to try to do this himself. "It's okay, there's no need to rush," she said to try to soothe him. "I believe in you, you can do this," she added as encouragement.

"Just know that if you fall after saying 'I can do this', I am going to laugh at you." There was amusement in Marci's tone, mixed with concern for her patient's well-being.

Akira's voice seemed to ease Daytona's mind and some of his pain, and to cool some of his anger, transforming it into determination. He took a deep cleansing breath and then got back to walking. With each step the Rigelian took, walking became easier, or at least less difficult, and produced less pain. As his leg learned to actually be a leg and support a person, it complained less about taking Daytona's weight.

"If I fall after saying I can do this," Daytona said. "I'll deserve your laughter at my expense."

Akira kissed Daytona's cheek proudly when she saw him taking another step, then another. "You only deserve laughter if you refuse to get up after falling down," she stated with great confidence in her words; even if he fell now, that would not diminish his progress in her eyes.

At the touch of Akira's lips, a sense of peace seemed to come over Daytona and the rough edges in his demeanor seemed to smooth over. He could still feel the black blood boiling in the back of his brain, but for the moment, it's siren's call had been muted. He smiled at Akira and nodded in thanks, then went back to walking. Soon he was closing in on the other end of the parallel bars and had become more confident in his steps. When he arrived at the end, he slowly sank to his knees to give his legs a rest.

"Thank you," he said. "Both of you. Lieutenant, if I take a moment to rest and drink some water, would you be alright with me trying to go back the other way?"

"Of course. Just take your time... you've already done more than I thought you'd be able to on the first day." Marci retrieved a glass of water from a nearby replicator and handed it to him.

Daytona drank his water and rested a moment. When he was done, he handed the empty cup back to Marci.

"Alright," he said rising. "As Hank number five said, 'once more unto the breach...'."

Daytona took a step, then another, a look of grim determination once more on his face. One foot in front of the other, he made his way back to where he started from.

"See, I told you you've got this," Akira said proudly. But then a look of confusion crossed her face. "What is a 'Hank number five'?" she asked.

Daytona chuckled.

"Henry the Fifth," he replied. "The fifth Henry to be the King of England on Earth. 'Hank' is a more modern nickname for 'Henry', though he was known at the time as 'Hal'. The Earth playwright William Shakespeare wrote a play about him. Prior to entering a major battle, Henry gives a speech to his troops that starts out 'once more into the breech'. It is very powerful."

"Oh," Akira said simply, and for a brief moment there was a blank gaze in her eyes as she directly access the computer to research both individuals for better context. "Oh, now I get it!" she said with a bit more excitement after a few more seconds had passed. "So you liken your therapy to battle? I can see that, I suppose, a constant struggle against apathy and the limitations of the body; can you overcome to become the victor? I think so," she chattered positively as they continued back to the biobed where Daytona had started. "In fact, you are working so hard, maybe I will make you a nice dinner to help you recover."

Daytona winced. Anyone looking at him would think it was because of pain from his leg. In fact, it was in anticipation of having to eat Akira's cooking. She had taken up the practice only recently and, while Daytona was sure she would figure it out eventually...at least he hoped she would figure it our eventually, she was still struggling. Daytona didn't want to discourage Akira from trying new things, so he'd been eating her cooking.

The things we do for love, he thought. Maybe I should invite Mister Pickles so I can feed the meal to him under the table while Akira isn't looking. She'll think it's cute that I'm getting along with the hellhound and I'll get to watch him die of food poisoning.

"I look forward to a fine meal, my love," Daytona said.

They were so cute that Marci couldn't help chuckling a bit. "Let's get you back to bed before we send Akira off to cook. She's stronger than me... I need her help."

"Alright," Daytona said. "As much as I don't want to admit it, I could use the rest."

"Then let's get you back to bed," Akira said as she supported Daytona and moved the walking support contraption out of the way. Then baring most of his weight, she assisted his climb onto the biobed. "When will he be allowed back to his quarters?" she asked Marci while Daytona settled in.

"Soon, I hope," Daytona said. "I promise I'll behave and that I'll do all of my exercises and come to all of my appointments and take all of my medicines, and not overdo it."

"And I will make doubly sure of this, he will do as he is supposed to," Akira added cheerfuly.

"When he's able to walk well enough to at least get himself to the bathroom and back to the bed or couch." Marci's tone was gentle but firm. "A few days, judging by our progress today."

"I'll be out of here in no more than two days," Daytona said. "I may need a cane to get around for a little while, but I'll be mobile enough to leave in no more than two days."

"We'll see." While Marci appreciated his enthusiasm, she didn't want to encourage him to leave too quickly. More than once, she'd seen patients leave sickbay before they were ready, and it almost always led to another stay in sickbay.

"Your requirements seem fair and reasonable, I won't let him escape before you clear him," Akira assured Marci, casting Daytona a playful grin. "Don't worry, Daytona, I will make the wait worth it."

Daytona shot Akira a smoldering look, one that made clear that he would be holding her to that promise.

"Yes," he said, his voice a little husky. "You will."

Daytona was not normally crass or so intense in public. The Black Blood could be blamed for some of his intensity. It was ramping up his aggression stirring up his turbulent Vuclanoid passions. Passion was a tricky thing. It wasn't really an emotion, more an emotional adjective. You could be passionately and aggressively angry, but also passionately and aggressively lustful, or just passionate about loving someone, passionate committed to a cause, etc. Several moments ago, Daytona had been feeling passionately angry. Now 'passionate' was serving as an adjective to a different emotion.

Daytona coughed.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm not usually so...blatant in public, at least not in that manner."

"It's okay," Akira replied cheerfully. "Your system is flooded with drugs right now, including those for pain relief, which have documented effects on mood and behavior, not to mention the Black Blood has mood altering effects. Anyway, a promise is a promise, even if you are having a momentary lapse in decorum."

Marci couldn't help snickering, both at Daytona's crass outburst and Akira's cheerful reaction to it. She knew it shouldn't be funny, but her brain was tired. Everything was getting to be amusing at this point. "A bit inappropriate, perhaps, but given the circumstances... understandable. Now, Mister Ral, I want you to get some rest. Akira can stay, but let's try not to act on those impulses just yet."

"Now? Oh goodness no!" Akira said with a bashful blush as she worked Daytona's pant leg up to expose the new limb so she could begin to massage it to work out any soreness. "No no, he can wait until he's cleared to return to quarters. I will stay for a short while, but not for long; I believe I am fast approaching the limit of how long I can function without rest. The more I develop the more I emulate humanoid behavioral functions, but even with that disabled, my matrix is still immature and has limits, meaning I require occasional downtime, and I have been active non-stop since we started looking for the Iconian Dyson Sphere." Not to mention the transition to the Herald body was taking its toll on her.

"Hmmm," Daytona said. "That feels nice...but don't over exert yourself...oh, my...if you could that a moment or two longer, I'd really appreciate it...then go rest, by all means."

"Keep it rated PG, kids." Marci snickered some more and then went to check on other patients, letting them be alone together for a while.

Mal felt horrible. He had been so busy he'd been forced to neglect Clio. All he had wanted to do when he'd found out she'd been hurt was go to her, but he had duties as Executive Officer, especially with Enalia on the injured list. Now, however, he was free and wild equines wouldn't keep him from her side. He was in a sleeveless civilian tunic that went down to about his knees, negating the need for any other garment. The garment was blue trimmed with gold. Around his neck he had his flute and in his hand was his lyre. He wanted a few options in case he was going to play music for Clio. He arrived at her door and rang the chime.

Clio wasn't sure if it was the creepy black blood or if she just knew Mal that well, but she knew exactly who was at her door. So she got up from the couch where she'd been resting and opened the door herself, pulling him inside and into an embrace. "I'm so glad you're here. I think I'm going crazy. Again."

Mal held Clio close, enveloping her in his arms as if to take her inside himself and shelter her from harm.

"You're not going crazy, my love," he said. "We're here together and everything will be alright. I'm so sorry it took me so long to come to you. I wanted to. You were in my every thought. But with both you and Enalia on the injured list, there was no one to delegate command to. I had to wait until things settled enough for me to leave T'Pral in command. But I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Mal knew enough not to try and fix Clio's troubles at this moment. In this moment he knew that what Clio needed most, besides a cure, was for him to be there with her. Mal continued to hold her until she decided to break their embrace. Until then, he was content to have her in his arms, warm and soft, yet firm in all of the right places. He even adjusted his breathing so that the movement of his chest and stomach would be soothing to her and he would exude a sense of calm.

She didn't notice at first how Mal so carefully adjusted his arms and changed his breathing, but after a few moments Clio found she was breathing in sync with him as she leaned into his chest. She felt slightly calmer, if not exactly normal. Whatever normal meant anymore. "You don't have to apologize. I understand all that." Somewhat more emotionally stable, she extricated herself from the embrace and kissed his cheek. "And thank you for saying I'm not crazy even though you know I am."

"Come," Mal said, leading her over to the couch. "Let's sit, and I'll perform an old Greco-Roman custom for you to help you relax and we can talk a while, or just be together quietly."

"Sitting down sounds nice." Once they reached the couch, Clio sat down and pulled the blanket off the back of it and over her lap. "What sort of custom were you thinking of?"

Mal grinned.

"Just sit back on the couch and relax," he said, leading her to the couch and sitting her down. "I'll be right back."

Mal set down his lyre and went to the replicator and replicated a bowl of warm water and a bowl of warm oil. From the head he grabbed a washcloth and a couple of towels. He lay one of the towels under Clio's feet and placed another next to where he would be kneeling. He fetched the washcloth, the water, and the oil, and brought them over and set them down and knelt at Clio's feet. He carefully removed Clio's shoes and stockings. Taking the washcloth, he dipped it in the warm water and began to gently wash Clio's left foot and ankle, taking his time.

Clio watched him for a moment, snuggling into her blanket but taking care to keep it out of the bowls. The water was warm enough to be soothing but not hot. And it was certainly relaxing. "Whoever invented this custom is a genius. But... how did you know it would help me?"

"Simple," Mal said. "I am a genius."

Finishing with Clio's left foot, Mal moved on to the right, taking his time. When he was done with the right, he gently dried both of her feet. When they were dry, Mal dipped his fingers in the warm oil and began to massage Clio's feet.

"This was considered a sign of hospitality," Mal said. "Unfortunately, since the well to do owned slaves, instead of doing this for their visitors, they would order their slaves to do it. Slaves didn't have the right to refuse this order, so it became an act of subjugation. On Pomtol, however, it is still sometimes practiced. When Pan built our society, he didn't include the institution of slavery. So there is no one to subjugate. Besides, the satyrs more often do this for the nymphs than the other way around, and if a nymph cleans a satyr's hooves for him it means she really, really likes him...or that he's paying a professional to do it."

Mal grinned when he realized that Clio might misunderstand his explanation, as he continued to work oil into Clio's feet, taking his time.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not expecting you to clean my hooves, and if the idea did enter your mind, please have Maica show you how first."

"I had horses growing up. I think I can handle cleaning a hoof." Clio couldn't help snickering just a little. "But of course I'd make sure I knew what I was doing first. I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Thank you!" Mal said, dipping his fingers in the warm oil again and going back to work on Clio's feet and lower legs. "Wait, didn't you grow up on some kind of world ship or space station? Or was that my other girlfriend? How did you have horses?"

"Born on one. Grew up on Earth," Clio reminded him somewhat absently. "Wasn't really a farm, per se, but rural enough for horses."

"Uch," Mal said. "I knew that. Sorry. There's been a lot going on. I should have remembered that. We have an equine species on Pomtol, but only the nymphs have the legs and feet to ride them. Some of the satyrs have learned to control them with their knees and reins only, but I never got the hang of it. There's a special stirrup for us, but I never really felt comfortable with it. Did you ride often?"

Once the oil was completely rubbed in, Mal playfully kissed all of Clio's toes, before tucking her legs up beside her and sitting down on the couch next to her. He picked up his lyre and began to play a soothing tune as they continued to talk.

"Once a week or so. Not as often as I would have liked to, and I haven't ridden in years now." Clio tucked her legs under the blanket and snuggled up to Mal, careful not to hinder his playing. "Holographic horses aren't the same."

"No," Mal said, smiling at the feeling of Clio being close to him. "They wouldn't be. There's something about connecting with another living thing that holographic replica's can't replace. It's different, of course, with Maica, and with Akira. They're sentient, living beings. There's something to connect to."

Mal continued to play, but his voice grew more somber.

"Clio," he said. "How are you, really?"

That was not a question Clio really felt ready to answer, and she hesitated for several long seconds. "Physically, medical says I'm fine. Other than my blood turning black anyhow. But I don't feel... right. I can't sleep, can't focus on anything. Spent most of the day on the verge of a panic attack, and the lorazepam I take for that didn't do anything. I don't know what this black blood is supposed to do, but I don't like it."

"I'm so sorry," Mal said. "I should have insisted on killing the Master myself, rather than sending in you and T'Pral...no, that sounding insulting. I sent you and T'Pral because you were the best people for the job and because it was my duty to be on the bridge. But I promise you, we will find a cure, you have my word."

"I knew the risks. And if I had the chance to go back and change what happened... I wouldn't. He needed to be dealt with, and T'Pral and I were the most qualified to do it. Also, needs of the many and all that nonsense." It was no secret that Clio had often put herself in danger for her crew mates, and most on the Hera knew she'd do so in a heartbeat, no matter the risks. "And I know we'll find a cure. Just a matter of when."

"Soon," Mal said. "Or at least sooner than later."

Mal continued to play his lyre for his lover's enjoyment as she snuggled up against him on the couch. He played soothing songs to help her stay calm and relaxed. They sat in silence for some time, just basking in each other's presence. Finally, Mal spoke.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Thirsty? Can I get you anything?"

"Haven't had much of an appetite, but a drink would be nice. You don't have to get it though... you're a guest in my cabin." Having been raised in the American south, Clio had been ingrained with the idea that one took care of their guests.

"Normally, I'd sit back and let you fix me a drink," Mal said. "But I'm here to pamper you a bit, so let me get you a drink. What would you like?"

Clio briefly considered resisting a bit more before relenting with a somewhat more relaxed smile. "White tea with huckleberry honey. I think I've programmed my replicator for it, but plain honey is fine too."

"Your wish is my command," Mal said. He rose and got Clio her tea and got himself a mulled cider. He returned to the couch and handed Clio her tea, then sat down. "Careful, it's hot."

The tea was indeed quite hot, but Clio took a few sips of it anyway. It was almost hot enough to scald her throat, but the warmth felt nice all the same. "Thanks. I wish I was better company tonight though."

Mal shrugged.

"You're a captive audience for me to practice new songs for," Mal said. "What more could I ask for?"

Mal set down his mulled cider and picked up his flute and began to play a merry little tune to lighten the mood.

"Well. The music does help." Clio wasn't about to tell Mal how she could hear almost every psychic voice on the ship, even the ones she couldn't hear before. Or how loud they were. She didn't quite know how to explain it anyway, and even if she did... a non-telepath might not understand. "I never learned to play an instrument. I mean, I tried. But I am apparently not musical."

Mal took a moment to finish his song.

"Well," his said, taking a sip of his cider. "This is why you have a handsome, dashing, talented lover...who's also a passable musician."

Mal winked at Clio. Then he regarded her a moment.

"I can see from the scrunch in your forehead that something is bothering you," he said. "Headache?"

"I've had one since I went through the Section 31 transporter. Marci didn't know if it was that or the blood that was causing it, but hydrocortilene won't touch it." Clio hadn't thought it was that obvious, but then again... Mal knew her better than the rest of the crew did. He would notice things that others wouldn't. "Sumatriptan didn't help either, so I've just been... dealing with it."

"Here," Mal said. "Sit on the floor in front of me."

Clio set her tea down on the side table and then slipped off the couch onto the floor in front of Mal. She had no idea if massage would help, but she did know it would feel nice.

Mal began to massage Clio's head, neck, shoulders, scalp, even her jaw to try and relieve her headache, gently but firmly, making sure to hit certain acupressure points designed to release tension from the shoulders up.

"Computer," he said. "A little gentle Old Earth jazz, please. Something from one of Chief Warrant Officer Ral's lists, perhaps the coffee house jazz play list?"

"Working," the Computer replied. Gentle, relaxing music began to play over the sound system in Clio's quarters. "Coffee House Jazz playlist now playing."

"Thank you, Computer," Mal said. It never hurt to be polite, even to a computer.

"You are welcome, Commander Mal Xustos," the Computer replied.

Between the soft music and the gentle massage, Clio started to relax a little. As she relaxed, the pain did fade slightly, but her discomfort would still be apparent to anyone paying close enough attention. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"We're a very tactile sort on Pomtol," Mal said. "So I've had lots of opportunities to learn and practice. I've kept at it since joining Starfleet. I enjoy this kind of intimacy, even when it doesn't lead to sex. Just being physically close to you in this way is very nice. Clio, I'm just going to guess here, but is it possible that your psi abilities are causing your headache? Could the infection be playing havoc with them? I ask because I may have a temporary solution for that."

"Not only possible, but pretty likely actually. I've talked with Aewia and with the teams investigating the infection, and it seems to... enhance existing abilities. Before it either changes you entirely or kills you." Clio left out the bit about having entire conversations with Aewia... and just how much she could hear from each member of the crew. "I'm not certain my telepathy can be blocked at this point, but I'm interested in hearing the possible solution anyway."

"Well," Mal said. "I once had to detain a Lethean. In order to prevent him from using his telepathy on my masters-at-arms and brig officers, the CMO rigged a device blocked his telepathy. I could perhaps find the schematics for this device and suggest that Doctor Lysander look it over. It isn't the only device of it's kind, but it was particularly powerful."

"I've never heard of such a device. That's... really interesting." Truth be told, Clio had never had any real reason to look into ways to block telepathic contact. She had her own defenses that had worked well for her... until now, anyway. "Please, see if he can make something like that work for me. I need some uninterrupted sleep."

"I'll speak to him about it tomorrow," Mal said. "Now, sit back and relax as best you can and let me take care of you."

blizzard,

Thex was in a bad mood. She'd been in one ever since the ship had arrived at Tali Prime. It had been made worse when the M'Droarscia ambassador had been brought through engineering. If the chief hadn't been there when the ambassador had asked how much she would cost she would have floored him. Still, he'd sent her off to work elsewhere on the ship until the ambassador was off the ship.

Now having been woken up from a rather pleasant sleep during her off time and been sent down to the planet to help the locals fix there antimatter power station that was going highwire. After sweating her blue hide off getting the thing under control and wanting nothing more than to get a long shower the Andorian had found herself in the ships quarantine bay.

The intercom burst into life as the voice of one of the ships doctors filled the chamber. " Sorry for putting you there Thex. The computers detected you're infected with one of the local diseases. Due to you're species bloodwork it shouldn't do anything, but you'll have to stay in there for a few days. "

" Well, that's just great." She thought to herself as she slumped down on the seat inside the small room. She noted on how abrasive the doctor had been on what the local diseases could do. Still, they'd have told her if it was something serious.

Sighing she walked over to the disintegrator pealing herself out of her uniform and dropping it into the box. It vanished out of existence as she reached to the draw at the side and pulled out the packet containing the sealed white jumpsuit that was the standard for all quarantine bays.

Dropping the packet on the floor the Andorian stepped onto the sonic shower. She wanted this dirt and grim off her. The familiar sound of the shower filled her ears as she closed her eyes and just allowed the waves to clean her skin. Only when she could feel the elimination of all the dirt and grime from her skin did she open her blue orbs and step of the padd.

She quickly ripped the packet open and dressed in the white jumpsuit. It was course and pulled on her skin, but at least it was clean. Dropping down onto the bed she stared up at the blank white panels that made up the ceiling.

What was she going to do now? Now she just had to wait for her until she got the all clear like it was a sacred ritual she was forbidden from breaking.

The room had a replicator that could be used for food and drink and a few other items. They were impossible to hack and she should know she'd instaled the things.

Rolling onto her side she stared at the walls until the sound of her stomach rumbling caught her attention. Standing up she headed for the replicator and replicated herself a meal and a drink. Following that she also replicated herself a book.

Sitting back down on the bed she paused before stating her meal. There was on though that kept bringing her back to a feeling of happiness. Her promotion to chief of engineering. A few more mouths here and she'd be transferred to the her next ship. The USS Hera.

She wondered if anything like this would happen there. A grin formed on her face as she began to eat. Off course it would this was Starfleet after all.

The randomness was half the fun.

"Helm, set course. Granweh system. Let's start out at warp six and make sure the repairs are all well and good. As soon as we're clear of the Sol system, engage stealth plating." Enalia had been feeling much better and was back up to peak performance as far as anyone knew.

The Hera was also fully repaired and ready to get underway. The starboard nacelle, while only needing 'minor' repairs, comparatively... Wasn't the only thing damaged. The starboard nacelle strut was warped by point two degrees, the plating was sheared off in several places, and they had some pretty bad structural damage along the bow of the saucer that extended into the deck echo bars that was best repaired at their time at starbase. Fortunately, repairs didn't take nearly as long as planned thanks to priorities put in by Intel Command. Having a quarantine order imposed on them for the black blood infection might have also been part of that priority.

Thus they were now setting out a little ahead of schedule, having only spent two weeks in for repairs.

Ensign Gonadie punched in the commands with her usual aplomb. "Aye Captain. Course laid in. Spacedock cleared and ready to engage warp on your command."

"Engage," was all Enalia said right before the viewscreen went to the streaked starlines of warp flight.

After a few moments Gonadie reported in. "Now holding steady at warp six. Engineering reports we can try for nine point nine eight if you'd like."

With a lopsided grin, Enalia chuckled softly. "We probably shouldn't push the engines quite that hard just yet, but let's at least crank them up to warp nine point five and see how they handle that for a while."

"Aye Captain." Gonadie cranked up the warp and the star streaks grew longer. "Sitting pretty at nine point five."

Enalia nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent. Hold speed and course until we get to Granweh. As for the stealth plating, are there any issues with it?"

"The yard birds gave the stealth plating a once over while we were in dry dock at my request," Mal said. "I wanted to make sure it was functioning at peak efficiency before we left. They made what repairs were needed and gave the hardware the okay. Akira checked the software for me. We should be all set as far as stealth is concerned. Not as all set as we'd be if we had a cloaking device, but as all set as we can be under the circumstances."

"This is probably the closest we can get to a cloak without breaking a treaty or three." Clio had also gone over the new stealth system and found no flaws with it, though she was still slightly skeptical that it would fool who they need it to fool. "We should be fine, so long as we're cautious."

Mal had his doubts as well. The idea that the Hera's stealth plating would hide them from Danu was more than mildly ludicrous. When the Enterprise encountered Apollo over 100 years ago, he'd possessed technology beyond that of the Federation. While Federation technology had advanced, it was possible that the faux deities had also advanced their technology. If that was the case, and if Hermes limited tech was any indicator, it was, Danu would likely find the Hera's attempt at stealth laughable.

Enalia had her doubts as well - Especially since Odin's ravens had once found their way to her when it was engaged. Danu was supposedly older so who knew what kind of tech or powers she had hidden up her sleeves. It wasn't there to fool Danu though. It was there to protect the people of Granweh and keep the location of the planet a secret. "Excellent. Keep an eye on the stealth plating and our warp signature. if either shows signs that we might be detected by anyone that might do harm to the people of Granweh, or someone that might follow us, we'll change course immediately for the dark energy nebula next to it. I'm betting that if Danu is looking she can see us already but it's not her we're hiding from."

"I will make it my priority to ensure we are undetected," Akira said from her station, bringing up the details of the stealth plating on her console, as well as their warp signature so that she could easily monitor both as they went forward. "At the moment, we appear to be operating at optimal efficiency."

T'Pral took in a deep breath as she focused on her console. She often found it hard to concentrate and still was annoyed at the Captain for not relieving her of duty.

"What adventure awaits us this time..." Enalia muttered as she leaned forward in her chair, pursing her lips and posing in a very Captain-like way.

Thex had been feeling better now that the ship had been in drydock. Now she didn't have to worry about part of the ship falling off whilst she got some sleep which had helped the andorians sleep pater immensely. It had also helped her mood given she was no longer being kept awake by caffeine and stimulants.

Now with the boys in dry dock handling the heavy lifting, she could handle the smaller duties. Given the master's tech level, Starfleet couldn't taken any chances that he had left anything behind in the ship. Most of the smaller systems were clean and now she just had to have a look through personal computers. Having worked through most of the command saucer she now only had the captain's left to do.

Pressing the door alarm the andorian spoke politely. " Sorry for bothering you, captain. I have to do the computer maintenance check do you need me to come back another time?"

Enalia was just enjoying a cup of tea in one of her more subtly fancy teacups with her holographic wife, Maica. "No not at all. Please, come in. We were just enjoying a nice cup of Earl de Mont Fortomp tea. Would you like a cup while you work?"

Without waiting for Thex to accept or decline, Maica got up and poured her a fresh cup of the bluish tea and carried the saucer and teacup over to her with a sunny smile. "Here you are. I hope you enjoy it."

The Andorian smiled as she took the cup. She was more of a coffee girl, but she wasn't going to turn down hospitality. " Thanks. Just need to have a look through the computers in case anything nasty was left over during the fight with the master. Given his power, it's better to be safe than sorry. "

"Please feel free then," Enalia replied, motioning to her desk. "My personal system isn't linked to the rest of the ship for security reasons just like Intel's so I have to actually do all my work in my ready room. You're right though - It's better to be safe than sorry. Intel reported that one of the hacks came in through a communications relay years ago and sat in a sensor buffer after that so who knows what might be hiding where."

" I heard about that. Took the tech boys half a year to work out where it came from. Reminded me of my time I was being the tech girl for an operation in orion space. We had to regularly check everything that could hold a file in case something had slipped in. " The andorian reminiscing about her past as she got to work. She pulled a small scanner from her toolkit and placed it on the desk. It was a small device she had created that would look for any dormant programs that were ordered to be inactive. " Shouldn't take long. Has there been any word of the quarantined crew?" She asked looking up.

"Asking the Captain for gossip, are we?" Enalia grinned slyly and chuckled before sipping her tea again as Maica brought Thex a small plate of jellied cookies and crisps as well to enjoy with her tea. Her face then became a bit more serious. Nexi and Farenia are in what we're calling level twelve isolation chambers, thanks to Hermes' help. Aewia's summoned a panther and she's next on the list to isolate. Everyone else is being constantly monitored. Intel Command has the yard dogs scrambling with fear of catching it to try and get us out of here as soon as possible so we can go get that cure. Even so, with Nexi as far gone as she is, and with Aewia as accepting of it as she is, I'm honestly not sure those two can be cured at this point."

Enalia sighed and looked up from her tea and out the window at the spaceframe enveloping the Hera like a spider. "But that stays here. I still intend to do all we can to help them, whatever it takes."

Thex gave the orion a polite smile before she listened to the captain. " I'm sure we'll find something captain. Maybe Hermes know someone who can do something. " The andorain said as she took one of the cookies. " Though that paranoia you mentioned is spreading to our own crew. Some of engineering are starting to jump at shadows."

"Nothing to be afraid of yet. None of the summoned creatures have eaten anyone and everyone is under constant surveillance to prevent it. Not that it technically helps when they can vanish into shadows and pop up wherever their summoner is..." Enalia took another sip of her tea and set her teacup back down. "But all precautions are being taken, and then some. They should know this though. Your people are some of the ones setting up the tech for all this, right?"

" That's what I keep telling them. None of me and the team who have been setting this stuff up have even seen one of these animals yet if the rumours down in the mess hall are to be believed we have a shadow zoo running around on the lower decks. " The andorian replied from the desk as she took another cookie. " They should go away in a few days you know how rumours and gossip are on the ship. "

"Yeah Rumors travel at warp ten." Enalia shook her head and sighed. "So far there are two hellhounds and a panther... all black with seven red eyes. Nightmare inducing to be sure, but they're all friendly as can be. Aewia's Panther enjoys belly rubs and catnip."

" At least they're not violent. Maybe it has something to do with are crews minds and personalities." Thex added as a beep came from her tool. " Well, captain looks like your computers fine. Maica would you like me to run a scan on you're programming?" The andorain inquired politely. She knew some holograms didn't like people messing with them.

Maica smiled politely. "No thanks. I've already had my own techs check my systems over. Thank you though."

" Okay I'll just give your room's environment controls and then I'll be out of your way. Then I'm off to the holodeck. " Thex replied as she picked up her gear.

"Sounds like a good plan. Thank you." Enalia smiled brightly as she sipped her tea again.

Maica added a comment as well. "You should make an appointment with me for a massage and relax a little when you go off duty. Perhaps a nice hot Bolian squid and stones special would be nice?"

" That does sound nice. Have you any time you'd be available?" The andorian inquired as she packed up her tools.

Maica pulled up a holographic scheduling assistant in front of her and pored over the dates and times. "I have nothing but openings during the refit. In fact, this evening is completely free."

" Well, then i'll see you later this evening. " The anodrian replied as she ran her tool over the environmental controls. It showed it was clean which brought a smile to her face. " Well looks like everything running normally. If anything starts acting oddly make sure to call me."

"Thank you, we will," Enalia replied.

"See you this evening!" Maica added with a wave.

" See you later." Thex responded as she picked up her bag and walked out of the door. She had to go and drop of her gear and then go to her quarters to change, but for a few hours it would be nothing, but her and the music.

The earthquakes were tearing the colony apart, and the ionic storms were certainly not helping. The unprecedented solar activity of Ajilon was exacerbating the ion storm, which might have passed through the system without incident; but now it was causing radiation spikes, weather disturbances and gravitational anomalies, just to mention a few delights that the planet was now offering those upon its surface.

The colony on Ajilon Prime was most definitely not doing well, as major portions of it had now been rendered rubble by the increased seismic activity and raging storm systems, and as the stoic Vulcan operated the transporters to beam out the last of the colonists, he flipped open his communicator to call for his subordinate.

“Lieutenant Commander Paris, have you retrieved the core sample yet?”, Sonak asked, suspecting that he already knew the answer. After all, Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris was devoted to duty and would exceed acceptable risk parameters in order to accomplish her mission. But with the colony’s prefabricated facilities coming down in pieces around them, he could no longer afford to wait for her to arrive. But as the seconds ticked by with no response, the doors began slowly opening and a pair of well-manicured nails presented themselves in the opening, as Paris worked to pry open the stuck doors of the transporter room.

Stepping to assist her, the blue-clad Commander Sonak exerted his greater strength, borne of the high-gravity planet of his birth that was no more. The doors opened with relative ease, to reveal the gold-clad second officer panting and sweating, bounteous bosom heaving having arrived with the core sample that she had promised the Ajion Prime scientists that they would not leave behind. Smiling at the Vulcan, she turned to reach for the wheeled cart that she was using to haul the heavy core sample.

“Sure, I get it started and you make it look easy,” she muttered in mock frustration even as she wheeled the heavy sample to the edge of the transporter deck. Stepping up onto the platform, she hugged the heavy core sample to help lend her strength to that of the kolinahr as he bore the brunt of the weight onto the platform. That was when another quake struck, and it was all they could do to stay on their feet and keep the core sample steady. The transporter console sparked a bit, causing the blue-clad science officer to move to investigate it even before the quake had subsided.

“Do we even know what those scientists found that they are so determined not to lose they’d risk our lives for it?” Paris asked even as she maneuvered the sample onto a transporter pad.

“In truth, you volunteered to remain behind to secure the sample, as you ascertained that the science team likely would not willingly depart without it,” Sonak reviewed in his usual solemn tones. “Which meant that I too would remain behind to see you safely off world, as your superior officer. But this is not the time for recriminations- the ion storm is growing worse by the moment, and we must make haste if we are to escape this facility before it is destroyed.”

“That’s my guy, always looking on the bright side," Paris quipped, trying to hide the anxiety she knew he would feel radiating from her anyway. Transporters were far from her favorite mode of travel, after having been trapped for years as a phantom after a transporter accident. And it was a known fact that ionic storms interfered with their successful operation.

Emphasis on 'successful'.

Given the potentially damaged panel, the planet trying to break up beneath them and the hurried nature of the mission, she was just one step shy of panic, but working to keep a lid on it. Because now was not the time when Starfleet officers lost their cool; now was when they pulled together to save the day.

As she watched, Sonak reconfigured the panel, likely running calculations in his head since he didn’t have time to work out the math and instead trusting in his own intellect to manage the variables of transporting the most precious cargo known to him, along with a core sample that seemed to be exhibiting peculiar properties. Unsatisfied, but theorizing that the next quake might just demolish the colony’s transporter, Sonak glanced up, his grey eyes meeting those of his human lover.

“I have calculated that this transport should succeed- once aboard the Exeter it will likely fall to them to beam me out,” he explained, not mentioning that it would likely be because the transporters down here would be dysfunctional, nor that he was placing himself in mortal peril by doing so. She knew, she understood, and she would not argue.

Instead Rita Paris met his eyes with her own baby blues, nodded and said softly, “I trust you- I always have. Get me home safely and if I have to I’ll shuttle back in to get you out of here.” A small smile graced her face, then she stood, proud and tall in the transporter, a minidress-clad golden girl, who faced danger daily because it was her job. Winking at the Vulcan who was the center of her universe in false bravado, she requested, “Energize?”

The steady hand of the Vulcan scientist activated the transporter. That was when things went sideways, and Rita Paris started screaming, though by then she had no mouth. At least, not one made of matter. Not anymore.


For his part, Sonak fought valiantly with the controls as he watched the readings perform perambulations that were beyond imagination. He would write a number of treatise on those readings that would later be of vital use in piercing the dimensional barriers. But in that moment, the charged atmosphere combined with the unique properties of the core sample and the damaged transporter controls left him little to work with as the signal tore open an enormous energy surge that coincided with a high energy output from the ion storm, which caused the beam to fizzle, frazzle then quite literally vanish altogether. The last kolinahr's brows knit together as he scanned for the transport beam, determined not to lose his lover to the storm.

The Exeter had to send down a search party to recover Commander Sonak from the rubble of the colony’s transporter room.

Lieutenant Commander Paris never completed her transport, and was never found. She was listed, at Commander Sonak’s insistence and Captain Stuart's order, not as KIA; but instead, as Missing In Action. It was odd for a Vulcan to hold out hope in the face of all logic, but the Commander insisted that Paris had fought her way back from the impossible too many times to be counted out now.


While he would never see her again in his lifetime, Sonak of Vulcan was not entirely incorrect…



After leaving McKinley station, odd reports began filtering in from across the USS Hera. A flickering visual distortion the size of a humanoid was seen on deck 13 in one of the corridors, where tricorder readings registered a sharp ionization concentration. In the galley on deck nine, a table was suddenly bisected by an ethereal column of some sort that as soon as it had registered on the visual spectrum vanished into thin air. Again, ionization traces were found after the fact, but no conclusive evidence of what caused the phenomenon could be determined.

Then as the mighty starship changed speeds, a ghostly translucent apparition of a human figure clad in an anachronistic minidress uniform appeared to be studying readings from one of the main engineering consoles just off the warp core itself. While there were insufficient details to make a positive identification of any sort, the body language of the intruder seemed to be surprised when confronted by the Engineering team. Then in a static-filled flash, it disappeared as if it had never been.

As the rumors made the rounds, it seemed that as improbable as it seemed, the Hera had somehow picked up a ghost.

Rita Paris Challenge words: Drydock, crazy, humanly, scenic, flush



As she slept, the thoughts of Rita Paris turned back to a happier time, and she dreamt of a moment lost to history.



Flipping through the local singles ads frustrated the restless navigator, and Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris was rapidly arriving at the conclusion that her two martini lunch had perhaps not been her wisest career move. She was frustrated, horny, buzzed and now that she had dropped the boom of the Commander's plan, she officially found herself with nothing to do.

Returning to the TAD quarters that had been assigned to her, Rita made her way through the maze of storage tubs that comprised her life. According to Starfleet Psych, surrounding herself with familiar items and images helped her feel connected to life, while additionally insuring that she would have to be brought aboard by shuttle.

The latter theory did not work, and for now she was surrounded by towers of uniform grey Starfleet storage tubs that held little familiarity for her.

Scanning over the labels, she found the one she was looking for and removed it from the stack. Popping it open, she dug through it until she found what she was looking for- her PT shoes and socks. While just where her PT gear was located was beyond her, she did manage to find her old Academy workout gear. She eyed them dubiously- her figure had definitely filled out a bit since her days as a plebe at Starfleet Academy. On the other hand, the material was designed to be remarkably elastic while supportive.

"What the hell," Paris muttered as she got naked then wrestled into the sport top and the briefs. There was no mirror in the room, so she stepped into the head shared by the room next door, only to encounter a surprised ensign.

"Oh, sorry!" she expressed to the dark-skinned young officer, even as he did his level best to maintain eye contact. Noting his clear distress, she checked her reflection in the mirror, then burst out laughing.



The workout clothes fit, if only just barely. Stretched across the rather ample curves of Rita Paris they rode the line of indecency, but they were still quite supportive. Admiring herself in the mirror, she turned to ask the ensign's opinion even as he hastily ducked back into his room, demonstrating remarkable survival instincts.

"Hell with it," Rita shrugged, a motion that was somewhat seismic in her current outfit. As she walked back through her temporary quarters she grabbed her favorite PDD and as she exited the room she was already tapping away, making things happen in her own inimitable style.

Taking a few moments to stretch her long and somewhat thick legs, she was unsurprised when a worker bee floated down out of the sky to park nearby. Shaking out the stiffness, the leggy lieutenant waved at the departing maintenance worker who had delivered her ride. Taking the comm card from the man, she popped the hatch, stepped inside and ran a preflight check.

It never hurt to be prepared, after all.

Twenty minutes later she had navigated through the appropriate air locks and channels of Yorktown Station and she was setting the worker bee down gently atop the saucer section of the USS Exeter, parked in drydock(1). Popping open the hatch, the nubile navigator stepped out into the hull, stretching with both hands over her head as she peered through the main viewer at the JAG personnel and technicians inside, all clad in hazmat suits. Waggling her fingers at them cheerfully, Rita finished doing her stretches then strode across the saucer section to the edge, all the way down to deck 6.

The plates of the hull showed a clear path. She didn't have to worry about running off the edge if she gave 2 sections worth of distance between her and the edge, but the view was still breathtaking. And it was the rarest of opportunities- the starship in an atmosphere of one gravity. No one stood on the outside of the saucer section in space unless they were at full stop and making repairs.

Absolutely no one used it for a running track. That would be crazy(2).

Setting off, the limber lieutenant began to jog. There was no need to sprint- she wanted to get a feel for the tritanium beneath her feet, see how much traction her running shoes would bring. Those at least still fit right. If she wasn't allowed inside the Exeter, then she could not jog the circular hallways of deck 6 as she preferred. But given the somewhat unique circumstances, she could take a jog on the outside of the hull of the mighty starship that would probably be her home for the next few years.

Bond with the ship, humanly(3). Know her, and let her know you.

For the first lap she took it very slowly at around 5 kph. She took stock of the hull as a running surface, then measured out her safety margin. Speeding up, she took off on the second lap. She alternated between watching where she was going and taking in the navigational points of the ship. In realtime it would be different, but again, this was a unique perspective afforded her by the drydocked starship in an atmosphere. She had many times stood on the hull and watched the stars warp by when she had been the ghost of the USS Constitution, but this was very different. She was solid and whole, she had mass and weight, and the starship was at rest.

For the third lap she watched just the 'track' and worked to get a feel for the slope of the deck and making course corrections from the plane of the edge of the starship ahead. The next lap she measured it off her port shoulder as she ran clockwise around the great wide saucer. By the next lap Rita had it worked out and was making course corrections as she ran from wherever she was looking. Rita Paris was, in fact, an excellent navigator, the product of an excellent Starfleet Academy education. And right now, she was taking a most definitely scenic(4) route.

Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris ran off her frustrations, staring off and daydreaming about the USS Exeter, making almost unconscious course corrections with her running physique. There was only one incident wherein she got a bit close to the edge, and stopped running to reorient herself.

Standing there, she realized she had run quite a ways by now, and she took a knee to catch her breath.

Given her day and her multiple frustrations, she would have preferred energetic, enthusiastic extended sexual athletics. But failing that, running a few kilometers on the outer hull of the starship Exeter was at least a somewhat acceptable substitute to burn off her energy. And she was most definitely flush(5) and sober now.

"Shower, sleep, tomorrow begins at 0500..." Rita muttered to herself as she walked around the hull back toward the worker bee, pausing to peer into the bridge. It was evening shift, so low-power mode was the default. There was no one actually on the bridge- the JAG were not gathering evidence and the medical sterilization was not a process that required continuous application.

Changing course, Rita Paris walked across the hull of the ship to stand on the outside of the bridge looking in. The empty bridge at night.

This wasn’t a sight that would be seen by many. The bridge bereft of personnel- no one tending to the mighty starship at its brain. The chairs all sat empty, the displays on but dim. Placing her fingers to the transparent aluminum block that comprised the main viewer, Rita Paris envisioned the sight of their crew on the bridge, of what the future might hold for the crew of the Exeter.



Catching a whiff of her pits, the all-too human officer realized it had been a very long day. “Shower. Sleep. 0500.”

As the worker bee zipped away from the Exeter, Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris smiled.

It had been a long day, but today had been a good day.

Tomorrow would be a good day too.

Another fine day in Starfleet.



In her sleep, Paris smiled. Tomorrow was different than she had anticipated, but it might just be another fine day as well.

The USS Hera had been en route to Granweh for some time now and even travelling at warp nine point nine, the trip would take several weeks to get there. The stealth plating was operating normally, the new warp engine was running fine, and all systems were at peak performance so the crew was relaxing and getting ready for what could possibly be a deadly dance with an ancient Celtic goddess - one that they could easily piss off just by showing up.

Thus Enalia wasn't expecting anything happening during night shift, even if they were flying straight through an area of space that hadn't been visited by the Federation in over one hundred fifty years. Ensign Gonadie calling up at three in the morning for anything less than a life and death matter was rare and the reason she called was surprising indeed.

"Captain... Captain, we have a situation." Gonadie's voice called.

"What is it?" Enalia replied, shielding her eyes from the bedside light as her wife and the bedside light both woke her up.

Gonadie's voice filtered in, filled with worry. This was definitely a life and death situation for someone. "Reports of sightings of a ghost came filtering in so we did some scans and it seems we caught a transphasic transporter accident victim in our warp field. We tried to reconstitute her, but while at warp, we're having trouble getting a lock. If we slow down, we're pretty sure we're going to lose her."

Enalia thought it over a moment before coming to a conclusion. "Transphasic, you say? Have Crewman Dedjoy meet me in the Section 31 transporter room immediately and transfer your sensor data up there. I have an idea."

"Aye, Captain." With a bleep, the comms cut off. Enalia hopped out of bed, gave her holographic wife a kiss, and grabbed her uniform so she could change in the turbolift.

Moments later, she was with Crewman Ila Dedjoy in the S31 transporter room, staring at the sterile white walls with the holographic controls and the sealed glass three person pad. They weren't entirely sure how the system worked yet, but it used some sort of sparkling powder that they had a limited supply of and was instantaneous as long as they could make some semblance of sensor contact with the destination. Ila had even been able to send a bio-canister into subspace and bring it back. Mostly...

"Captain, I'm not even sure if this will... Oh shit... The system is auto-calculating..." Ila seemed stunned and surprised, to say the least.

Enalia moved so she could see the system doing its calculations and her jaw dropped at the implications of what it was doing. She'd seen reports of time travel and mirror universe travel and intergalactic travel... but this system looked like it was doing math designed to actually do it.

With a pleasant chirrup, it finished and Ila nodded. "We're green across the board, Captain. We have a solid lock and simulations are green."

Enalia took a deep breath and nodded. "Do it."

Ila placed her hand on the single physical control in the room - a big red button. With bated breath, she pressed it. The sparkles filled the chamber and in a bright flash of light inside the sealed chamber, they were consumed and replaced by a woman.



One minute Paris was on the pad, and she could feel the transport going sideways even as Sonak struggled to rectify it. Then she was beaming through space, headed toward the Exeter... maybe? Then there was that empty feeling in the pit of her stomach that let her know that she didn't have one, nor any other organs because she was in the middle of a transport, but this was one of those moments that slowed down and dragged out time for Rita Paris. Which only happened during transport, but not like this. This was some fresh hell, and she had no idea what this meant.

There was a wrenching. That was new, and surprisingly painful. Then crackling energy as she felt the ionization have its way with her energized form. Then there was silence and calm and cold, and she could feel herself beginning to drift apart. This was it... transporters had finally been the death of her, and she was going to die out here in the middle of empty vacuum. It bothered her that Sonak would surely blame himself.

No.

Rita Paris had never given up before and she'd hang in there now. Sonak would figure it out and save her, she was certain of it. There was always a way, always a chance. Always a light at the end of the tunnel- a career in Starfleet had taught her that much.

In this case, a starship of a design she wouldn't have recognized had she seen it hit her at warp nine-point-nine.

But now the transphasic astronaut was contained inside a warp field, and she was starting to gain some cohesion. Looking around and taking it in, the starship was unlike any she's ever encountered. As she managed to solidify a bit she got a good look at a few of the crew members. Their emblems looked a little bit like Starfleet, but no sleeve rank ribbons, just collar pips. And they were all in black and charcoal and dark, sombre colors. It looked somehow sinister to her. She followed the largest energy field to the engine room, to the dilithium chamber and started trying to study the readings. But the control panels all seemed to be screens and images of light that she couldn't interact with, nor manipulate in her immaterial form. She was going to have to watch for a while before she could learn much about where the hell she was now.

That was when a few of the crew pointed at her, and Rita Paris realized she was not invisible this time around. Apparently this warp field was very different than that of the NCC 1700, and a whole lot stronger. They were scanning her, and Rita ducked into the panel, not certain if this was a place she wanted to be... not that she had any choice. It was a miracle she was even as intact as she was... which was her last thought before she felt the sickening pull of the transporter, yanking and pulling her through, across, together and reconstituting her energy form back into matter.

Leaning on one hand against the clear inside of the three-man pod, the pretty pilot stared out at the spotted woman and the humanoid operating the transporter. In the white room, both looked quite stark and sinister to Rita's eye in their dark uniforms. Leaning against the side of the booth, Rita Paris tried to stay upright, but her newly reconstituted legs were not cooperating, and her gold-clad form slid slowly down the side of the tube.

"I sure hope you people are Starfleet," the leggy blonde muttered as she slumped to the deck.

Unsealing the chamber, Enalia helped the woman lay down a bit more gently while Ila grabbed the medkit and popped open a tricorder to scan her. Ila spoke first. "Scans show a temporal signature of around 2268... Origin was a Starfleet transporter... Vitals stable, no signs of any flux. Reconstitution successful, Captain."

Enalia smiled welcomingly. "I'm Captain Enalia Telvan of the USS Hera. We're with Starfleet. Welcome to the year 2395."

"What... wait, what now...?!?" Those bright blue eyes widened in panic before biology took over again, and the anachronistic astronaut turned to vomit what little was in her stomach onto the deck, convulsing for a few seconds as her body finished reacting to both the unconventional transport and the news that she had just transported over one hundred years into the future. Mustering what dignity she could, the officer in the gold minidress wiped her mouth on the back of her hand as she studied the two women. With some effort against protesting recently reassembled muscles, she struggled to sit upright.

Could be some kind of trick, but... spots around her face? What's that all about? The other one looks humanoid, but she definitely isn't earth human. They aren't wearing those stupid belly tops, so they likely aren't Terran Empire... 2395?!? Brows furrowing, the Starfleet career gal made her choice in the moment. For now, she would take the situation at face value and assume this was not some sort of elaborate hoax by the Romulans, or some demipower of the universe playing a game with her to see how she would run the rat maze. Instead, as unlikely as it seemed, this was the situation and right now the two women were expecting some sort of reaction from her.

A lady captain... a non-human lady captain, maybe. On a Starfleet starship. This might just be the future after all.

"Captain... Telvan?" she began. "Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris, chief helmsman, USS Exeter, NCC 1706. We were on a rescue mission to the colonists of Ajilon Prime. I was one of the last to beam up... there was interference from an an ion storm as the system was suffering from massive solar flares, and Commander Sonak and I had stayed behind to..." Paris trailed off as she looked around. "Guessing a core sample of unusual isotopes didn't show up here with me, did it?" The joke was made as a stab at rueful humor, though it was evident on the woman's face that she was struggling to hold it together.

Enalia grinned a bit wider. "Afraid not, Commander. I remember reading about you at the Academy. The great missing Rita Paris... If you're feeling up to it, we could escort you to sickbay."

"Great, I went down in history as AWOL,” Paris chuckled darkly. “So... your transporter looks pretty impressive," Paris noted with a definite lack of enthusiasm as she eyed the sterile contraption. When she spoke again, there was a note of hope in her voice that was heartbreaking to hear. "Can it... can it send me back...?"

Enalia glanced around at the sterile white transporter room. "This is a special one and we're still learning what all it can do, actually... But the temporal prime directive may apply so Intel Command and the Office of Temporal Investigations may prefer you stay in this era." Enalia paused a bit before continuing. "They may also want to ask you lots of questions about the era you lived in compared to this one."

"The Temporal Accords may also come into effect, Captain. Their transitional learning programs could come in handy." Crewman Ila Dedjoy replied as she put the medkit back on the wall.

"This is true..." Enalia eyed Dedjoy for a moment. For the purposes of recorded history, Ila was the twin sister of a now deceased Starfleet crew member that had died while in the line of duty on an away mission commanded by her Intel Chief... But this Dedjoy was so much more and an invaluable asset to the crew of the Hera. In this case, truth was so much stranger than fiction.

"So do you feel up to moving around? We could do a site to site transport, but I have a feeling taking the turbolift might be a bit more relaxing." Enalia replied with a lopsided grin and a wink as she offered a hand up.

Taking the offered hand, Paris’ mind raced. Temporal prime directive? Office of Temporal investigations? Temporal accords? Stay in this era?!? Briefly Rita eyed the control panel of the advanced transporter mechanism that had just reconstituted her from whatever energy she had been transformed into that had catapulted her a hundred years into the future.. a hundred and twenty-nine, if her addled math was correct. The controls looked like nothing she had ever seen, and in her current condition it was highly unlikely that she could overpower the two officers, figure out the admittedly experimental technology and manage to send herself back to the right era, forget about the right coordinates.

Sonak would not stop looking for her. Of that she was sure. But if she was historical fact, did that mean that it was a foregone conclusion that whatever he had tried had failed? Her head swam with the stress of the experience being compounded by the realization that she might genuinely be trapped here, separated from her ship, her love, her life... everyone she knew would now be dead, and everything she knew was different, changed... evolved by a hundred and twenty nine years of progress.

Leaning heavily on the spotted captain in the dark, sinister uniform, Rita Paris leveled her gaze and set her jaw. Her legs were wobbly and her head was light, but damned if she wouldn’t walk to sickbay.

“Yes ma’am, I can walk,” Paris declared as her legs turned to rubber beneath her and her eyes fluttered, only by sheer strength of will did she hold onto consciousness. She was Starfleet, she was an officer and this wasn’t the first time she had been thrust into the fire. But transformed by an accident, then rebuilt by a barely grasped technology, lost in time, separated from all she knew and all alone... it was a bit much for one day, it seemed. Or so her body seemed determined to tell her.

Enalia supported her the best she could - Rita was a bit heavier than she looked. She tried not to let it show but the pressing flesh confirmed it. This great unsolved mystery from the Academy days... The legendary lost navigator of the Constitution... Had bigger boobs than her!

Now wasn't the time for such thoughts though. Enalia led Rita out of the transporter room into the comparatively more colorful corridor. As Ila resealed it and began the sterilization process, they made their way to the turbolift, the beige and silver paneling hopefully being more comforting than the stark white of the room they had just been in. The turbolift was even less stark in contrast, being more taupe and tan to match the rest of the ship.

It all barely registered on Paris, save that earthtones certainly were an odd choice for starship decor. Where was the grey-blue of the tritanium decks and bulkheads? This was more organic somehow, yet more streamlined. To her eye it just looked alien as she stumbled along, leaning more on the two women than she cared to, yet her body giving her little choice in the matter.

As the turbolift doors closed, Ila took out a PaDD and started writing up a report while Enalia called out their destination. "Main Sickbay."

As the turbolift started moving, Enalia decided to make small talk to pass the time. "You might notice some slight differences in the paneling between the various parts of the ship. We've had a few refits over the years, and some parts of the ship are a bit newer than others. We're originally a series three Nebula class, but the pod is from a Spectre class. Much of the engineering section is from a Galaxy class, our engines are from a Venture class, our bridge module is a custom design from Intel Command... And none of this makes any sense to you, does it?"

A sad smile spread across the living anachronism’s face. “No ma’am, I’m afraid I... don’t know any of those starship classes.” It was painful for the perennial overachiever to admit, and it began to hit home to her just how out of her depth she was now. Over a hundred years behind the times, everything she knew was now outdated and useless. She probably couldn’t operate a single bridge position anymore. Idly she wondered if the starship circuitry even used duotronic relays anymore.

Chuckling softly, Enalia shook her head. "Well, suffice it to say that the Federation has grown a lot since your day. We had to with all the threats we've faced."

“The Klingons?” Paris offered, suspecting it was not going to be a correct answer but futilely reaching for something familiar. “The Romulans?”

Enalia shook her head and grinned wryly. "Both became our allies during the Dominion War. Then there's the conflict with the Borg... Nothing like a cybernetic hive mind with a penchant for assimilating everything it deems useful in the pursuit of perfection to bring enemies together, right? And let's not forget the Iconians... They became a threat for a while."

"Technically they still are..." Crewman Dedjoy added.

"Only because we haven't found a cure yet." Corrected Enalia.

The Klingons and Romulans are allies now? Who the hell was the Dominion that had been such a threat as to bring the savage houses of the Klingons into an alliance with the Star Empire, who had made a regular habit of betrayal and conquest? Borg? Cybernetic hive mind? The more the two women casually spoke of future events that made no sense to the curvaceous commander, the more she suspected that they were insuring that the Office Of Temporal Screwing Up Rita’s Chances of Going Home was not going to want her going anywhere.

The damned Iconians were just a myth, and now a cure was needed for them? In this moment Rita Paris desperately missed the calm and logical man in her life more than ever, because he would find them a way back home. As it stood, she was still holding out hope that he was working on it, and he would find her. It was a hope born of desperation, but the man had always come through for her. That made it easier to keep hope alive.

Outwardly Paris smiled and worked on convincing her body to work correctly “Sounds like you live in interesting times...”

"That we do," Enalia replied as the turbolift doors opened. "Sickbay is just a little further." Walking the few feet to sickbay, they helped Rita to the nearest biobed. "Ila, could you find the night shift nurse and explain the situation?"

Ila nodded and headed off towards the sickbay offices in search of the night duty staff.

Settling onto the biobed, Rita tucked her skirt tightly around her hips with an ease born of years of practice. Looking around the futuristic sickbay, it lacked the old monitors that transmitted the patient’s vitals and thumped in time with the heartbeat. If this was an illusion it was a good one, but Paris didn’t believe that was so. This was real, this was happening, and this was her life. This was the far-flung future- the twenty-fourth century, on the cusp of the twenty-fifth.

“Temporal prime directive, eh?” the leggy Lieutenant asked with an unconvincing attempt at nonchalance. “This sort of thing happens that often in the future?”

"We honestly don't know the full extent of it ourselves, to be honest." Enalia chuckled softly as she turned on the overhead panels for the biobed, the readouts displaying the vitals and scans that were automatic for anyone on the biobed. "We're technically on the beginning edge of the Temporal Accords so our knowledge of what they entail is very limited. I do know that an agent from the thirty first century tends to monitor most of our temporal anomalies and if we did find a way to send you back to your era, we'd have to get their approval for timeline incursions or some such. Not to mention wiping your memory of everything that happened here in this era."

"As for the Temporal Prime Directive itself, I'm pretty sure that if you asked to be sent back to... 2266 was it? The request would be a flat out denial followed by some cryptic message about spoilers." Enalia shook her head as she tapped at a wall panel, trying to figure out the biobed controls. She was rambling and nervous and she knew it. This was one of her idols before she was joined and it may have been showing just a bit. "The medical staff here make these things look so easy..."

Dropping her hands to her sides, Enalia gave up. "Ok. So. I know a lot has changed. We use isolinear circuitry and bioneural computer tech now rather than... Duotronics was it? We have one runabout that has manual controls rather than touch controls. Almost everything else aboard is a touch panel. Aesthetics are less harsh on the eyes of more sensitive races. I can put in a recommendation with command to let you stay aboard indefinitely, if you'd like to spend some time figuring things out. We have more facilities than most ships in the fleet. We have some pretty dangerous missions, but our amenities rival that of Earth and can provide any training you may desire."

There was a long moment of silence that followed, and when the officer of another age spoke, her voice had a tremulous quaver to it that try as she might she could not restrain. “Half an hour ago I was hustling colonists into the transporters, promising that I would secure their research. Sonak was going to beam me out, and I knew he could do it... hell, I was more worried that he wouldn’t make it out. Now... here I am, onboard a starship of the future. So far into the future that everyone I have ever known is dead. Everything I know is out of date and useless. I’m a living relic, a walking antique that they won’t let go back to where I belong and... he was just there, I told him that I trusted him...”

Lips pursed, eyes squeezed shut, Rita Paris was making a Herculean effort not to cry. The hope that Sonak was going to save her from this one seemed more like self delusion than anything logical. Sonak was history- even with his Vulcan lifespan he was long dead by now. She could probably ask the locals and they would cheerfully provide her with the dates and circumstances of his death.

After all, to them they were just facts. Dry historical data, nothing more. To Rita it had been her whole life, but that was gone now- it was history, just like Stuart and the Exeter and everything she had ever known. Maybe she could find some way back in time, but she was no scientist nor chronological theorist. She was just a pilot and gunner whose shield and torpedo strategies were probably laughable in this future in which she was now a permanent resident.

The tears rolled down her cheeks silently, and while it wasn’t very becoming an officer, Rita couldn’t help it.

Enalia reached out and squeezed the displaced woman's hand tenderly. "I'm sorry. I know this is all a lot to take in and I'm rattling, which isn't helping. Out of everything that's changed though, you might be surprised at what hasn't. Replicators are about the same. Console and computer systems tend to be similar, just many times faster. Computer controls haven't changed much since the days of the NX-01 - we just use touch panels to do it now."

Enalia paused a moment, debating on how far she wanted to go. "As for what happened to the people you knew... You can look them up in the Federation database. I believe there may be a few holo-recordings that you can view as well, if you'd like."

Despite herself, Rita smiled and barked a short, coughing laugh. Starship captains are still the same, at least there's that. Still awful at consolation and they can't cope with a crying woman. Mopping at her nose with the back of her hand, Paris proceeded to rub her eyes with the palms of her hands, then shook her head as she sat up straight, then wobbled a bit. Gritting her teeth and gripping the edge of the biobed, she turned to eye the captain of the Hera.

"I'd like to take you up on that offer, Captain," Paris offered the starship commander an earnest expression. "I'd like to stay aboard, and catch up to... all of this," the buxom blonde waved idly about at the high-tech starship, "so that I can be of use and serve a purpose. I'm not," Paris paused at that, and Enalia could see her literally swallowing her feelings as she took a big gulp of air before continuing. "This isn't where I chose to be, but you 'do what you can with what you have where you are', right?"

Paris offered her hand, as saluting while sitting wouldn't much reinforce her point. Plus while she was managing to sit up, she didn't trust her 'just got beamed in from across space, time and dimensions' legs just yet.

"You aren't exactly catching me at my best right now," the anachronistic astronaut admitted with a sad smirk, "but I'm a fair helmsman and navigator, and a dedicated officer. Hopefully that's an historical fact," Paris half-joked. "Permission to come aboard, ma'am?"

Returning the handshake, Enalia gave her own piratical lopsided grin. "Permission granted. And yes, I wrote a thesis paper on you my first year at the Academy so I'm well aware of your qualifications. By today's standards you're a class seven pilot and with a few days in a simulator, I think you could fly anything in known space. In fact, I think if you put your mind to it, in a few years time you could have a command of your own if you wanted. Sooner if you didn't wait on Starfleet."

"Not wait on Starfleet...?" Paris asked hesitantly. What she said next, she had planned to keep internal, but her day had been a bit hard on her and her filters weren't what they should have been. "What now, I can join the glorious Romulan Star Empire and get a command right away?

Enalia stared at her a moment before laughing softly. "No, I'm actually the heiress to the Artan family pirates. Most of our work is hunting down other pirates that are deemed too unruly by the rest of the pirate community and legitimate work though... So maybe we're more pirate police?"

"But you... and this ship... Starfleet, right?" The last thing Rita needed was any more uncertainty today. If she could hold on to duty, at least she would still have that. Starships still warped through space and they still needed pilots... unless the computers did it all now. As she spoke again, it was clear that Paris was teetering a bit, a touch of hysteria tinging her voice. "You aren't pirate police though, you said you were Starfleet. That's, that's a Starfleet emblem, right? This is a United Federation of Planets starship?"

The busty Captain shook her head as she leaned back on another biobed behind her. "Yes, I'm a Starfleet Captain. This is a Starfleet ship. We fall under Starfleet Intel Command. When I retire from Starfleet, I'll take over the family business though. I have a few more assets than pretty much any other captain in the fleet, which makes me a pain in Command's butt because I often don't give two shits about their politics and bureaucracy, but it also means they know I won't take no for an answer."

"Rebel captain with money and clout, dangerous missions," Paris grinned. "Five starships cobbled together just to serve your own agenda amongst the stars? There she is, ladies and gents. There's the starship captain. Starfleet... Intel?" Paris raised a manicured eyebrow at that. Brushing her short blonde hair out of her eyes, the pretty pilot grinned at the captain as she wobbled a bit on the biobed. "Let me guess, we're already elbows deep in some sort of universal crisis, or are we chasing a mission in which you have a personal stake? "

"We're going after a potential cure for something that turns people into Iconian demons," Enalia replied casually. "You know how it is. Starfleet Captains don't leave anyone behind until they can't find anything left to save."

"Admirable quality, Captain." Paris winced, considered for a moment then spoke up.

"Ma'am, I don't want to seem critical, but we've been in sickbay for a while. Are all of the sickbay personnel just avoiding us because I'm under quarantine, is it your order or is no one on duty in this sickbay?" The buxom blonde wobbled a bit on the biobed, choosing to tuck her skirt in and lay down. "Being reconstituted from time traveling energy to matter was a lot easier and less painful this time, but I'd really like to see a doctor. I have body aches like you wouldn't believe, and I'm... I'm working on not letting it stop me but I'm very sad. I should talk to someone about that, too..."

The chin squinched up again as Paris thought of Sonak, lost to time and space to her. At least you won't have to watch me grow old and die, T'hy'la she thought, and shed a tear. Glancing up at the captain, the nubile navigator shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry ma'am. Been one hell of a day."

"Actually, it took Ila a good twenty minutes to explain ho w you got here, then another twenty with a very strong cup of coffee to figure out if you need to be isolated at all." Marci had bounced into the room just in time to hear the comment about sickbay personnel 'avoiding' a patient, but with the tears involved... she chalked it up to stress and brushed it aside. "So, about that pain. I'd like to get rid of it for you, but I need to know if you have any allergies first." While waiting for the answer, Marci produced a tricorder from one of her many pockets and started some basic medical scans. As far as she could tell, there was nothing necessitating a full quarantine, but she wasn't inviting anyone else into this part of sickbay until she was sure either.

“Just an allergy to wool,” the gold-clad time-tossed traveler replied. “So don’t put me in a nice Scottish sweater and there shouldn’t be any issues.”

"Ah, well. I had such a cute one to share with you too." Marci cracked a toothy grin, fishing two hyposprays out of her pocket. "Let's try ketorolac and orphenadrine first. Anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxer... should be just the thing, but I have other tricks if not." She gently gave her new patient both injections then tucked the hyposprays back in her pocket. "We'll give it a few minutes to work and if it's not enough, I can get something stronger."

“Thank you, Doctor,” Paris smiled. “I suppose I should amend that allergy list to include transporters. If I never have to endure having my atomic structure broken down, converted into energy and beamed through space again, it’ll be too soon.” The blonde frowned a bit at that before raising a finger in thought. “If it isn’t too much trouble, I know my medical records probably aren’t exactly accessible, but if you could take some thorough scans I would very much appreciate it. I always swore that I was losing parts of me with every transport... maybe with your future technology, you can find something Dr. Lang and Starfleet Medical never could.”

"Thank you for the compliment, but I'm not a doctor," Marci replied brightly. "And I'll take as many scans in as much detail as you like. I can even set your bed up to do most of the work for us, so you can sleep through it. As for medical records... well. We have resources other ships lack, and I might be able to get into them. With some help.”

Not a doctor? Paris boggled. I guess with the Temporal accords and all of the time travel they encounter this is like a vaccination shot to these people, happens all the time, routine, no cause for concern. Outwardly Paris just smiled and nodded- now she felt a bit foolish for having asked for the scan. Hell, she wasn’t positive what a biobed of her own century could do, let alone one of this odd future.

Sleep, though. That was sounding more appealing by the minute. While she knew the captain was right here and someone was going to have to debrief her and insure this wasn’t some sort of ruse or elaborate spy game she was running- maybe she was a Borg spy, right? Rita Paris was pretty wrung out from her day.

“Kinda hard to keep my eyes open, Captain,” Paris said softly. “Permission to pass out, ma’am? I promise I’ll be right here in the morning. M’just... really tired now...”

"Yeah, I'll brief the XO and send him your way later. Get some rest for now and we'll go from there, ok?" Enalia smiled brightly as she made ready to leave. "Take good care of her, Marci."

"Yes ma'am..." Paris mumbled as she drifted off to sleep. With all she knew lost to the past, her precious memories would be all that she had left of what the career officer had held dear. So as the lights dimmed, the unintentional time traveler revisited her own era the only way that she could- in dreams and memories.

Marci couldn't help yawning as she ushered her last sick call patient out the door and turned back to face the empty sickbay. It wouldn't stay empty for long, but she was going to take advantage of it anyway. Taking a moment or two, she set up a sign asking incoming patients to please sit on a biobed to notify sickbay staff of their arrival. With that done, she set the biobeds to alarm in the office if anyone were to sit down... and to activate the EMH if there was no response within ninety seconds. Satisfied that she wouldn't miss anyone who wanted to be seen, she headed into the CMO office. While it technically wasn't hers to use, it made a good place to catch up on charting. Or to nap.

As she crossed the threshold, Marci yawned again and assumed her lupine form, trotting to a corner of the office. There she curled up with her tail over her eyes and her ears pricked to listen for any alarms. Even if she only got ten minutes, it was better than nothing at all.

Tripping the door sensor with his cane Matthew limped slowly into his office carrying a box of what could only be described as personal items for the office. He liked to have his office be just a little homey- to put people at ease immediately. He would change the color of the walls as well eventually, but for now the fishbowl, a few pictures and the plant would do.

The lights came on, and Marci twitched her tail slightly to fully cover her eyes. Perhaps she'd moved enough to trigger the activation. And then she heard footsteps. Odd ones, like a person with... three legs? Well, that didn't make sense. Curious, she lifted her head and blinked a few times before catching sight of Matthew, who walked with a cane. Yawning, she stretched and sat up, pausing to use a hind foot to scratch her neck before she stood up and made a soft 'yip' noise to get the man's attention. She didn't want to shift her shape until she was noticed; she'd done that a time or two and had phasers pointed at her face.

Both eyebrows shot up as he heard the yip of an animal in his office. That seemed unusual, and he turned towards the sound, hoping that he wouldn't have to use his cane on a creature. He immediately focused on the pristine white fur of the fox? Or was it a wolf? Either way it was a lupinoid creature. The question remained- how did it get into his office and what was he going to do about it.

Marci wagged her tail, but it seemed clear that this guy had no idea who she was. She didn't recognize him either, but he was wearing a teal uniform. After studying him for a moment longer, she quickly assumed her humanoid shape and held her hand out to him. "You must be new around here. My name's Marci."

"Matthew Lysander." he said after a long moment of silence, his eyes taking in every bit of her. His voice however, betrayed his curiosity and his amusement at her shift in appearance. "And just what manner of creature are you Marci?"

"Dalneugdae." Some might find the question to be too prying, but Marci didn't mind sharing. Most of the crew knew by now anyway. "We're shapeshifters, like the Allasomorphs. Some of us can take multiple forms, but I can only be humanoid or lupine."

"To coin a phrase, fascinating" Matthew answered automatically, shaking his head in amazement at the sheer number of new species he was meeting on day one.

Marci couldn't help chuckling a little. "I take it I'm not the first weird non-Federation species you've met today. I do apologize for startling you... I hadn't heard that you had come aboard, and this is the best place to hide for a nap. And there's not a cot or a couch in here so the wolf is more comfortable." She paused briefly, recalling where they were and whose office this was meant to be. "Guess I'll give your office back. Being in charge was more work than I bargained for... I mean, I'm still in charge of the nurses, but at least I don't run the department anymore."

"Definitely not the first today. The smallest, but not the first" he said and then laughed softly, a beautifully happy sound. "Feel free to nap if you'd like. I just will have to get used to your other form."

"I try not to use it here. But as you can see... there aren't many options for human-shaped people to sleep." Marci grinned a bit. "If you don't mind, I think I'll take this opportunity to take a break from sickbay. I feel like I've been in here a month straight."

"I don't mind. Get a solid 8 hours- or whatever your species needs to fully refresh itself." he smiled ever so softly as he balanced his cane on the side of the desk and sank into the chair with a wince.

"Thank you, sir." With a grateful smile, Marci practically bounced out of sickbay, going home to rest.

His laughter followed her out of sickbay as he set to getting his things organized.

T'Pral sat in her quarters, feeling the darkness ever so slowly taking control. She had been released from Sickbay but had been confined to her quarters as a safety concern. Her meditations seemed to have less of an effect every time. The lights were off with Vulcan meditation candles and the planet in orbit providing the only light in the room. She hated being trapped aboard the ship. Despite being aboard a Nebula Class Refit ship, she felt the ship closing in around her. She closed her eyes as she felt another wave of frustration overcome her. 'They don't trust you,' she thought.

'No, they do trust me,' she continued to debate, wondering if it wasn't indeed the blackness she was debating with. Was it in someway sentient?

'Then why are you confined to quarters like a prisoner?' she felt the anger and frustration grow within her.

'It is for the safety of the ship,' she thought to herself.

'Bullshit! They're afraid of you! Perhaps they should be.'

T'Pral opened her eyes. Her ears picked up the breathing of something else in her quarters. She turned to seem a large shadowy cat figure the size of a human lion. It's eyes glowed yellow as it let out a growl. T'Pral slowly grinned at the shadowy Sehlat Cat.

The doors to her quarters opened as the guard stepped through. "Lieutenant? I thought I heard an animal..." The man's words were drowned out by his screams as the Sehlat Cat pounced, it's claws, slashing the man's throat, silencing his screams.

"Good kitty," T'Pral smiled as she exited her quarters with the Sehlat cat walking next to her. Inwardly she was appalled at the guard's death but outwardly, she only had a sinister grin as she walked down the corridor.

At 0900 the call came over the comms: "Commander Xustos, please report to Sickbay."

Mal was sipping an iced tea in his office when the call came through. Enalia had just briefed him on their new arrival, so he was expecting the call. He drank down the last of his iced tea and, picking up a PaDD, set off for Sick Bay.

Upon entering Sickbay, the first officer was shown by one of the nurses to an occupied biobed, where an unusual sight awaited him. A young woman, a human perhaps in her thirties, was sitting up in the bed, her lower half covered by a sheet. Her upper half was covered by a gold long-sleeved garment with a stylized black outlined neckline and a symbol on her rather prodigious left breast which somewhat resembled the Starfleet insignia on his own uniform, although far simpler with a starburst design inside it.

Those bright blue eyes watched him approach, and a hand came up to sweep the short blonde hair out of her eyes as she smiled at him and extended her hand. The sleeve had one gold braid around it shadowed by one broken braid, and the toothy smile behind it was polished and warm.

"You must be Commander Xustos? I'm Rita Paris. I recently... transferred... in?" The gold-clad mystery smiled a bit uncomfortably at that, as if she were making a private joke. "The Captain seems willing to let me stay aboard and come up to speed with all of this so that I can be something other than an expert in 'how we did it in my day', but she insisted that I interview with you first before I can have access to the ship's computer and start acclimating. Or leave Sickbay, for that matter. So if you have some questions, I will answer all of them to the best of my ability, Commander."

For her part, Paris assumed that the executive officer had already been briefed, and that she wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. But best to demonstrate an ability to deliver a report, she reasoned.

"Welcome aboard, Commander," Mal said, tapping at a PaDD in his hand. "And yes, I am Commander Mal Xustos. Pleasure to meet you. It seems you've been through a bit of an ordeal. There. I just authorized you for access to the ship's computer so you can catch up on how things work here in 2395. So, how are you feeling?"

For a few seconds the human officer considered the question, taking stock of the first officer visually before settling back onto the bed a bit. "Not great, sir. I'm a bit... marooned here, it seems. Don't get me wrong, considering you apparently plucked me up out of the middle of nowhere and put me back together, I'm grateful. It's just... finding out that I wouldn't be allowed to go back even if you could do it... well, my ship and my captain need me. Except that they got used to me not being around a hundred and twenty-nine years ago now, but..."

The blonde brows furrowed and the woman shook her head. "It wasn't a hundred years ago for me, it was yesterday. And in my head, in my heart, the Exeter still needs me there doing my job, but she's probably decommissioned or a museum and all the people who depended on me are long dead by now. So there's that, sir... to be honest." Paris knew it wasn't the right answer, the Starfleet 'bounce right back and keep on reaching for the stars' answer. But it was a truthful answer, and if she was going to start a relationship with the first officer, she felt it was better it be built on honesty.

Mal nodded.

"Adjusting is going to be difficult, no doubt about that," he said. "Many things have changed since the time you came from and many of the people you knew have likely passed. Keep two things in mind, though. First, any Humans live to be well over 120, so do others. Some, including Vulcans, live to be much older. You may find that some of the people you knew are still with us. When you feel ready, catching up with them might do you some good. Second, there is a Human phrase: The more things change, the more they stay the same. You find many differences. Technology, philosophies, foreign affairs, tactics and strategies, races you've never seen before. Still, somethings are the same. People are, basically, people. Relationships, both personal and professional are largely the same. Music is basically still music, though you'll find styles you've not encountered before. Poetry is poetry, literature is literature, though there may be changes to the genres you're familiar with. I could go on, but my point is this: as important as it is for you to learn what's changed, it is as important to look for aspects of this time that are familiar to you."

In truth, Paris didn't care much for the answer, but the point was well made. While she had lost her entire reality in one dreadful moment, the world of the future would still hold many familiar aspects for her. Starships still fly and they probably still need pilots, unless the computers handle all of that now. Starfleet is still exploring strange new worlds and seeking out new life and new civilizations. It seemed the message of 'that was yesterday, embrace today and look for familiarities' was one she should expect from the first officer, whose job was to keep the starship running efficiently. Give him a politic answer, she thought to herself.

"Well, it looks like the mission is the same even if the faces have changed," Paris replied. Cocking her head slightly in curiosity, she asked a question that had been lingering since she'd come aboard, so to speak. "Are there any humans onboard?"

Mal laughed.

"Plenty," he said. "You've just somehow missed them all so far. I'll arrange quarters for you and when you're ready to get out of Sickbay, someone will escort you to them. If you get lost anywhere in the ship, just tell the computer where you want to go and ask for directions. It will take you there, step by step. What was your job on the Exeter, Commander? From your uniform, I'm guessing helm, navigation, or executive officer."

"Helm and navigation- good call, Commander Xustos. Captain Stuart wanted to experiment with merging the positions, and since I could do both, I've been working at it for a year and a half. We have a proposal coming on the docket at Starfleet Command next..." Paris stopped, then smiled a small piper's smile. Closing her eyes, she took a breath before opening those baby blues once more to continue. "I'll have to see how that proposal went. I was second officer of the USS Exeter, sir. I learned from some of the finest officers in Starfleet. I assume that's a matter of history."

"Actually..." Mal said.

Offering an earnestly concerned expression, Paris clasped her hands in her lap to plead with the executive. "Please tell me you still have pilots and the computer isn't the only one who who directs the ship? And navigators, you have to still have navigators. The Nav panel still has tactical, doesn't it?"

"Helm and Navigation have been combined into Flight Control," Mal said. "Navigation is more automated than it was in your time. Tactical has been combined with Security in most cases, though they are sometimes separated. Starbases have been known to separate them, for example. On this ship, they are combined as is the norm these days."

"I'll be darned, we were right... it did make more sense to do both at the same station, and the fleet listened," Paris smiled wistfully. "Well, Captain... Telvan?" At the nod from the satyr, she continued, "said there were simulators, so I'll get up to speed on your modern systems ASAP, Commander. I'm a fair pilot, and I'd like the chance to prove it. Although I'll bet shield modulations and phaser tactics really have come an awful long way since my day." Paris paused, turning her head a bit and sideyeing the first officer.

"Wait, what does 'actually' mean. Not a matter of history...?"

"I'm not exactly sure of the history of who instigated the idea of combining helm and navigation," Mal said. "But I'm sure you can find that information in our computer. And yes, there are simulators...holodeck programs... ah, yes, holographic technology has made leaps and bounds since your time. I'll have someone from Operations show you how they work and what you can do with them. They can help you learn starship tactics as well as familiarize you with the modern Flight Control console."

"Sounds brilliant, sir. Well, if you've given me computer access and assigned me quarters... permission to check out of Sickbay, Commander? It sounds like I've got a lot of catching up to do, and no time like... well, the future is my present now it seems," Paris beamed that thousand watt smile that tended to get her into more trouble than out of, in her experience. Then the smile faltered a bit as she remembered that eventually through the course of her research she was likely going to have to research the fates of her shipmates aboard the Exeter. But outwardly she worked to keep that smile glued in place, even if her eyes weren't selling it.

"As long as the doctor says it's okay for you to go," Mal said. He tapped into his PaDD. "There. Someone is on their way here to show you to your quarters as soon as the doctor clears you. Welcome aboard and best of luck to you!"

"Thank you. Commander Xustos. I'll be seeing you on the bridge!" Paris replied confidently.

You twenty-fourth century officers are gonna to see how we used to things back in the twenty-third century soon enough, Paris thought to herself. Piloting a starship that could do new Warp 9.90? This was going to be fun...

The proper procedure was to electronically file the paperwork with the quartermaster to requisition any Starfleet materials one might need, from uniforms to rations. Procedure on a starship a hundred and twenty-seven years ago, that is. Catching one of the nurses, Paris asked to borrow a PaDD. The confused nurse demonstrated what a replicator was capable of by producing a PaDD for Rita, who thanked the nurse profusely.

Then when no one was looking, Paris hugged the slender surface dearly like an old friend. Starfleet still used tablets to work, which meant that something vitally important to her world had not changed. Although she strongly suspected this version likely had oodles more computing power, and could probably serve as a tricorder. Scanning the database, she started asking questions. And there were abundant answers to be found.

Logging in occurred via sensor confirmation of her finger swiping the surface, which caused Paris to eye the biobed. It had scanned her thoroughly, then uploaded the scan to the ship's computer which in turn could enable or deny her access based on her sensor reading, because the ship always knew where she was at all times, just like every other crewman. The sensors were always tuned to track every lifeform on board, she saw by following the chain of her line of inquiry. Rita was curious what the navigation sensors could do in this day and age, and was surprised to find that they still functioned fundamentally the same way, just with considerably greater ranges and subtleties.

The sensors were constantly blanketing the ship, and now the ship's computer had sufficient computing power to process, store and recall that information instantly. No more of that :::WORKING::: when you gave the computer a command. It just worked. So onboard the ship you could actually use the ship's sensors instead of a tricorder, and it was a casual thing. It didn't cause any appreciable dent in the starship's computing power or the operation of the sensors, which had a refresh rate so fast they were to most perceptions continuous. All of this was available to her in the ship's computer's explanations of processes and procedures. If Starfleet had gotten better at only one thing in over a hundred years, it was in their educational tools.

Were they on quacorders or octocorders by now, Rita wondered, then was relieved to find they were still called tricorders. It looked like the handheld models were the same basic concept with a few interesting new categories of scans and analysis, greater range and more compact. Idly, Paris wondered what phasers could do in this far-flung future dimension in which she found herself, but skipped investigating that for now.

Shedding her blanket, Rita Paris stood and took stock of herself. She wasn't wobbly on her feet, and was experiencing only a mild headache although some body aches persisted. Taking a few long stretches, Rita realized that soon she would need a shower and a change of clothes. That would be fun- the hideous dark jumpsuits that counted as uniforms made the crew look like the SS, and Rita really hated them with a passion.

It was an unusual ship. Maybe she'd be allowed to wear her own uniform if she asked permission. A 'special uniform exception' case. It would forever mark her as different, as an anachronism. But maybe that might not be such a bad thing in this dark future.

Making her way out of Sickbay, the golden-haired heroine tapped at the PaDD as she moved down the corridor into deck 12, glancing up to avoid passersby. Distracted, Paris ambled along, a far cry from her usual brisk military pace. Unable to resist, the anachronistic astronaut checked the files and procedures for helm operation then literally laughed out loud, drawing a few looks from passersby who were already curious about her uniform. The helm station and navigation were so automated the ship could fly itself. Wryly, she wondered if the pilots of the day considered themselves such or if they realized they were practically a glorified monorail attendant, pressing a button to plot a course then pushing a button to make the ship go.

Then there was that fascinating warning about accelerating to warp 10 in tight solar orbit, which led Rita to learn the rules of the Temporal Prime Directive. Which she was as of now quite willfully planning to violate as soon as she could get her hands on that Runabout the captain had mentioned sitting in the hangar bay. Which was a plan that was cooking along just fine until she noticed an addendum and followed a link. Whereupon she made a rather startling discovery.

The planet Vulcan was an active member of the Federation in the year 2395.

Not New Vulcan... the original planet. Vulcans were not an endangered species in this future. Their planet had not been destroyed by the time-traveling Nero and his vessel the Narada in 2258. In fact, there was no mention of Nero or the Narada, nor their encounter with the Kelvin, nor red matter. None of those facts that she knew as history had ever happened according to Starfleet Historical and Fedepedia.

Commander Sonak of Vulcan had died in the year 2273, of all things, in a transporter accident. He had died while beaming between Starfleet Command and his assignment aboard the USS Enterprise. It struck a pang of sadness in her to see his face and read of his death, particularly by transporter- the bane of Rita Paris' existence through all time and space.

But while this was Sonak of Vulcan, this was not her Sonak. There was no mention of him having served on the USS Exeter nor their service together under Captain Michael Stuart. In 2267 Captain Tracey led a landing party to the surface of Omega IV, but had not returned empowered. His crew all died of the contamination from the surface, including Lieutenant Stuart, the engineer who apparently led no mutiny against his mad captain but had been reduced to dust in the wind like the rest of the crew of the Exeter.

Since Stuart had never survived to recruit Sonak, the Vulcan had spent the majority of his Starfleet career as an instructor at Starfleet Command. He was kolinahr, but clearly not the last of his kind. This was a man who never lost his home planet, and never felt the need to connect with humanity as a wanderer amongst the stars. This Sonak had never met Rita Paris, and never chosen to bridge the gap between their species with mutual admiration, love and passion.

This history was not the personal experience of Rita Paris.

Ergo, logic dictated that this was not her native reality.

This was a timeline other than that which she knew. Even if she were able to steal that runabout and get to a solar orbit, even if she could manage the calculations and piloting to slingshot the tiny craft around a star in an attempt to hurl herself back through time to when she belonged... Paris would find no solace there. Like the Mirror Universe she had once before visited, this too was an alternate dimension where events had flowed similarly, but not precisely the same. And while she might or might not manage a mad dash back through time, the pretty pilot had no illusions about being able to breach the dimensions successfully, forget about blindly navigating to the right one. The one in which she belonged, where her life and love awaited her.

There had been some hope she'd been holding out that maybe, just maybe, if she were brave and clever and strong enough, Rita Paris might just escape this odd future into which she had been transported and was now a prisoner of sorts. After all, Sonak would never give up trying to find her- but now she knew that the solar flare activity and the ion storm, combined with the transporter malfunction that seemed to be her destiny, had swept her away from him and captured her with a casually efficient elegance.

Time she might have escaped, but Paris had become unglued not just chronally, but dimensionally as well. Hopeless situations with no way out were an unacceptable outcome on the USS Exeter. But with the additional wrinkle of dimensional travel thrown in for good measure, Paris was well and truly marooned.

Blonde brows furrowing, Paris pushed back the emotional tidal wave of tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Tears served no purpose here- now, she needed cool and calm logic to plot her course and make her decisions. Besides, she was an officer, and officers didn't wander the halls of their new assignment crying. It set a bad example for the crew, and eroded confidence in the leadership. Tapping at the PaDD in her hands, she found her destination, then located a turbolift. It seemed they still worked similarly- while you no longer needed to grab a handle, the rest of the lift operated as one would expect, just calling out the deck required. That computer was always listening, just waiting for a command.

Stepping off on deck 10, Paris made her way fore until she found the forward observation lounge, which was apparently a bar of some sort? Paris chuckled a bit at the idea, then made her way to an unoccupied table where she could stare out the large observation port and watch the stars slide by. In her mind and her heart, she reached out to him, though she could not feel him. But across the stars he had heard her and come for her, so once more she reached out for him, hoping against hope that he might hear her.

Goodbye, Sonak. I got well and truly lost this time, and even you won't be able to bring me back. I love you and I will always love you, but I can't hold out hope that you are going to rescue me. Not this time. I wish there were some way for me to at least let you know that I'm all right, but apparently Starfleet hasn't really mastered dimensional travel, even in 2395 where they know how to time travel. If I find a way back, I'll take it, I swear, and I'll come back to you. Finding my way home will always be my fondest desire. But for now, this is my life, and I have to live it.

A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another and another as the Starfleet siren watched the stars slide by. You will always be my t'hy'la, my one. You will always hold my heart, and I will carry the part of you that is within me for the rest of my days... my mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts. I am lost to you, as you are to me. But I still have Starfleet, and I am still an officer. There will be need of me, for there will be trouble- chaos is a constant of the universe, as you said. Starships still need pilots, and good captains still need able officers. I will build a new life here in this strange future, and I will honor your memory in my heart.

But for now, I need to put you and my grief in the past, so that I will be able to get to work.

With that, the leggy lieutenant commander wiped away the residue of her tears, then pulled her PaDD in close, hugging it to her ample bosom briefly before folding it in by her side with practiced ease. Then she rose from her chair and took a deep breath, the sight of which caused a passing crewman to stumble over a chair. But she didn't notice, because she was already on the move.

Rita Paris had a lot of catching up to do, and damned if she wasn't going to get started. If there was one place she was going to find a lot of advances on a starship, it would be in engineering. So it was time to take a look around.

“Time to prove the fossil can be good for something after all,” Paris muttered to herself as she made her way to a turbolift.


Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyIOl-s7JTU

“Now then, who would like to volunteer?”

The response to Vaemyn’s question was an unquestionably awkward silence. Around the conference room, the dozen or so blue-shirted officers glanced at each other nervously, nobody quite having the heart to be blunt with their department head. For all his cheerful gregariousness, and despite Vaemyn being a member of the same species that had waged a horrific war against the Federation, they had all grown rather fond of the violet-skinned lieutenant and his bright-eyed curiosity.

Of course, Vaemyn was no fool, and his eager smile dimmed as he looked around the room. “I don’t quite understand your reticence,” he said, plainly disappointed. “Surely this would be a welcome break from dry chemical analyses and staring at readouts of subspatial wave gradients. We do not often get the opportunity to research this, and it is critical to our mission, yes?”

More pained looks were exchanged between the scientists, before finally one of them, a Betazoid lieutenant, stepped forward reluctantly, plainly only doing so because he held the highest rank. “Vae, we know that, but it’s…well, it’s theology. It’s just so boring, and we may be polymaths, but this branch of anthropology is so dated. Scientists and theology just don’t mix well.”

At that, Vaemyn grinned. “Zim, I’m not going to start proselytising on the Founders’ divine glory. This is an academic exercise in service of our higher mission, my friends, do not forget this. Warrant Officer Nexi, Lieutenant Commander T’Pral and all the others’ lives may depend on our research. If we do not understand the psychology and motivations of the worshippers of the Danu, and the others like her, we may not be able to find a cure. An accurate prediction of responses may be critical.”

Lieutenant Zim sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, but we already have loads of papers and research on this subject. We know all of this! Why waste our time on holodeck research when we don’t need to?”

Before Vaemyn could marshal a counter-argument, a tall junior lieutenant stepped up next to Zim, placing a hand on the Betazoid’s arm. “It’s okay, sir, I can do it with Vaemyn,” she said placatingly. She flashed Zim a wide smile, her pacific African features exuding calm, although even so, there was no denying the weary acceptance there, nor the skepticism in her next words. “Besides, it might be fun…”

*************

An hour later on the holodeck, the same lieutenant, a brilliant biologist called Nadene Assin, was beaming as if her birthday had come early. She and Vaemyn stood in a vast ancient stadium, a holographic recreation of the great Coliseum in Rome. Unlike those ruins, however, this was the coliseum at its prime, the elevated stands encircling a huge central arena. The stonework seemed brand new in the bright Italian sun, presenting a perfect setting to the show on display.

Today, that show was a medieval Catholic priest and an Ancient Greek priest screaming madly at each other. The Catholic priest was red with exertion, his heavy robes clearly uncomfortable in the hot conditions, while the pagan priest was much more comfortable in his toga, an important advantage given that they’d been debating for a full ten minutes. Eight of those minutes had involved angry shouting.

Vastly amused amidst the bickering (“monotheism is stupid! You’re stupid!”), Nadene stepped closer to Vaemyn. “This isn’t really a fair test, is it?” she asked quietly. “You bumped up their fanaticism and argumentative stats to a remarkable level, sir. Doesn’t that distort the test results?”

Grinning, Vaemyn shrugged as he tapped on his PADD. “Oh, a little. We’ll focus on more moderate models of religious belief later, but right now I want a baseline.” Then, having made a decision, he stepped forward towards the arguing theologians, smiling pleasantly at them both. The priests paused their dispute, eyeing the newcomer wearily.

“Gentlemen,” Vaemyn began with a showman’s illustriousness, “I would like to explain my belief system to you both now.” (Behind him, Nadene groaned.) “I worship a group of powerful beings called the Founders. I believe them to be my gods, graceful and wise beings who have guided my people for millennia. However, they are flesh and blood, like you and I. They can and have been killed, and have no divine powers that cannot be understood through scientific study. Discuss.”

“Madness,” the Ancient Greek priest said dismissively, while simultaneously, the Catholic priest sniffed derisively in agreement. “Gobbledegook.” The two priests looked to each other in surprise, before seeming to come to a sort of strange accord.

“It is natural for the gods to manifest themselves in the earthly plane,” the pagan priest said, “but for the gods themselves to become mortal? Nonsense. Zeus was most virile and adventurous in his exploits, granting us such wonders as Heracles and Perseus, but Zeus himself was divine, not mortal.”

The Catholic priest nodded firmly in agreement. “A god cannot, by definition, be mortal. Only a fool would believe otherwise. God is abstract, beyond our understanding!”

“The gods, you mean,” the Greek priest countered with a scowl. “Don’t peddle your new age trickery here, you soft-brained oaf!”

And then they were off again, shouting at full volume. Vaemyn glanced back at Nadene, ensuring that she was recording everything, and now, neither scientist was smiling. They had just learned something important, and their scientific curiosity was alight.

“Computer, remove the characters,” Vaemyn called out, and the two priests duly vanished. Preparing his own PADD for rapid note-taking, Vaemyn paused. “Nadene, do you have some kind of advanced combat training? I am no warrior, so the perspective of a fighter for this next pat would be welcome.”

Nadene nodded vaguely. “Oh, sure. I trained in a couple of fighting styles, and I was on the Academy boxing team. Why, sir? What do you want to do next?”

Once again Vaemyn grinned, the happy expression coming easily to him. “Classicalism versus medievalism, but hardcore. Computer, give us two warrior counterparts to the earlier priests. Have both warriors be equally fanatic and passionate about their spiritual beliefs, and have both warriors believe that the other is a powerful heretic, determined to destroy the other’s religion. Insert them when ready.”

A moment later, two tall, burly soldiers appeared on the sands of the Coliseum. One was clad head to toe in bright steel armour, with even his face covered by a grill, while he bore a long sword and thick shield. The other, however…

“Is he wearing underpants!?” Nadene blurted out, giggling. True enough, the Greek soldier was very much unarmoured, wearing only thick leather underwear, a long red cloak and a slim helmet. The man’s rippling pectorals and abdomen were on full display, plainly a superb physical specimen of humanity, with his muscular legs equally bare. It was almost certainly a computer error of some sort, as Vaemyn rather doubted that such soldiers went into battle half naked, but he decided to let it slide. The subjects’ physical appearance was irrelevant to the test, after all.

Plus that Greek soldier looked sexy as hell.

And so the Greek warrior, a Spartan, aligned his spear with his shield, carefully circling the heavily protected knight, who watched and waited with equal care. Vaemyn watched, fascinated, as the Spartan used his superior mobility to dance inside the knight’s shield, dropping his spear to draw his sword and stab the steel armour ferociously. However, even as the sword penetrated the armour and drew blood, the knight bellowed and slammed his helmeted head into the Spartan’s face, following up with brutal punches that forced the Spartan back.

“Interesting how their survival instinct is overwhelming their religious fervour,” Vaemyn commented curiously. “Perhaps…computer, give each fighter a parcel with…oh…let’s see…ah yes! Give them a flamethrower in each parcel, please, with the knowledge of how such a device functions. Insert them when ready.”

When the parcels appeared, both the Spartan and the knight were startled, but they gamely opened the boxes with swipes of their swords. Upon seeing the weapons inside, both dropped their weapons and picked up the flamethrowers, aiming them at their foe.

And yet they hesitated.

“It does seem awfully unsporting, hey old chap?” the knight suggested reluctantly.

“Yes,” the Spartan replied with a much deeper and more gravelly tone, looking at the flamethrowers with disgust. “There is little honour in this method of combat.”

“Oh, but it would be jolly good if we could use these on that fellow over there, hm?” the knight said, now looking directly at Vaemyn, who began backing up slowly. “That purple skin, the odd ears, he does look ever so demonic.”

“Agreed,” the Spartan growled, and simultaneously, both warriors aimed their flamethrowers at the Vaemyn, the weapons igniting great spurts of fire at the scientist, who yelped in shock as his assistant was laughing uncontrollably to the side. Of course, the safety protocols ensured that Vaemyn was quite unharmed, although the holograms seemed to merely take that as confirmation of his supernatural powers. Instead they approached him and began to swing their swords at Vaemyn’s head and chest with murderous vigour, only for their strikes to bounce off the Vorta as if he were an invincible statue.

“OOH AH!” the Spartan cried out as his sword pinged off his ‘foe’ time again, accompanied by various battle cries from the knight (“For God! For England! Oh bloody rutting hell!”). Now distinctly perturbed, Vaemyn pushed past his two assailants in an ill temper, bending down to pick up one of the flamethrowers that they had dropped. Without hesitation, before the Spartan and knight had a chance to run, he fire the weapon at their feet, forcing both warriors to run like the wind in the opposite direction with the flames at their heels. Within seconds they were down one of the tunnels that dotted the arena wall, still sprinting as if the Devil himself was after them.

“Sir?” Nadene asked in the sudden silence afterwards, her mouth open in shock.

Examining his weapon, Vaemyn merely shrugged. “They irritated me.”

With freedom granted to roam and acclimate to the mighty Hera, the anachronistic astronaut had chosen not to investigate the Bridge first. From what she'd managed to read, the systems were mostly automated these days, and with the overrides and customization possibilities that existed (at least according to her research thus far) the simulations seemed to point to her being able to pilot a starship easily.

Truth be told, she believed she would be quite superior to her modern contemporaries. Time would tell.

But not understanding the local technology and the advances of the past 127 years were definitely going to be a hindrance. Warp theory had completely changed- the scale by which was once the standard used to measure warp speed was no longer in use, and a new scale had to be invented so that it could encompass their warp nine point nine possibilities. Multiwarp was no longer a thing- now they had apparently passed through transwarp, and in 24th century warp theory, warp factor 10 had been redesignated to correspond with infinite velocity. Apparently a vessel traveling at warp 10 occupied all points in the universe simultaneously, so warp 9.999etcetera was as fast as warp could accomplish. Except of course for the odd natural FTL ability aliens and greater beings of record who could still break those rules casually as befit the mysteries of the universe).

With warp fields having changed dramatically- hell, she had been visible as a warp field ghost, that alone indicated significant change- Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris suspected that wasn't all that had changed simply yet so drastically. So now she was headed to the main engineering section of the USS Hera, to wander about, use the ship's computer to identify things and help her frame the questions she as yet didn't know to ask.

Thex was back to her usual business of taking care of her girl, giving her her daily checks to make sure everything was working properly. Currently, she was hanging upside down doing some repairs on the warp core support structure. Even still she noticed the stranger entering her domain. It wasn't hard to spot someone walking around in what she guessed was the old style of starfleet uniform. Judging by her dress, this was the woman they'd saved using the transporter who had been previously haunting her team.

Lowering herself on her harness the andorian observed the woman walk around, occasionally glancing down at the padd in her hand. Only when she got rather close to her did Thex speak up. " Hello there. Love the uniform. Need a hand with anything?" She said playfully.

The gold-clad commander looked up from her studies to greet the owner of the voice, looking first left then right, before glancing down, then up. Spotting the blue-skinned engineer dangling from another deck, the studious Starfleet officer started a bit in surprise. She’d been so intent on trying to grasp some rather scientifically outlandish concepts that were now science fact, Paris had been oblivious until the woman spoke to her. Regaining her composure, the human put a smile on her face and waved in greeting.

“My apologies, ah... Lieutenant?” Paris began, noting the two collar pips and managing to successfully address the officer by her proper rank. “I’m new aboard the Hera and I’m trying to gain some familiarity with what wasn’t covered at Starfleet Academy back in my day.” At that, the buxom blonde winced, having used a turn of phrase she knew made her sound like even more of a primitive than she was already. Extending a hand, she introduced herself.

“I’m Lieu-“ she started, then realized that her rank might or might not be valid a hundred and thirty years into the future. That was yet another depressing thought, so she shoved it aside and pressed on. “I’m Rita Paris. I’m the, ah, the new gal. The old new gal.”

There had been the momentary pause when she had cast about for what to call herself- a marooned accidental time traveler? A chronological castaway? An antique astronaut? ‘The old new gal’ seemed woefully inadequate, but it was the best she could come up with on the spot without unduly complicating the conversation.

" Nice to meet you, Rita Paris. Well, in the flesh at least. You didn't half give a few of my personal a fright when you started appearing in here, especially with what's going on recently. " Thex said as she pushed her harness release and with a few flips that would make an Olympic athlete jealous landed on her feet. Only stopping to flip her ponytail back over her head the andorian offered her hand. " Want some help? I know this girl better than anyone. I'm sure I can help you find what you're looking for."

Admiring the acrobatic skill which she so thoroughly lacked, Paris took the cerulean blue hand in her own and shook it professionally, making eye contact with a smile. "That would be grand, actually. And sorry about spooking your shipmates- the last time I got stuck like that, no one could perceive me. Apparently your dilithium chamber- wait, you've renamed it these days, it's a... warp core? It produces quite a bit stronger field than it did the last time I did this dance of energy and matter. So you are..." Paris looked down to tap at her tablet for a few seconds before trying to pronounce the alien name. "Let's see, I'm going to guess Lieutenant Thex sh'Zoarhi, the chief engineer?"

" The one and only, and don't worry about spooking my team. Everyone's been on edge with what's happened recently. " The andorian said glancing around at her team who were busily working. " So you were in a failed transporter accident and ended up getting pulled into are warp field. That sounds rather unpleasant. This can't be easy for you." She said her voice showing concern.

An expression of genuine gratitude for the empathy passed over Paris' face before she replied. "Thanks for asking. It's not my first time something like this has happened to me, so a few years of counseling goes a long ways," Paris chuckled darkly. "It's... not ideal. It certainly isn't anything I would have chosen nor would I prefer. But I'm here, and... well, I've no real options, so making the best of it seems to be all I can really do. Soldier on, chin up, chest out and all of that." It was clear that the leggy lieutenant was unhappy but doing her best to put on a brave face and do what would be expected of an officer in such circumstances, particularly if she were setting an example.

"So of everything that's changed since my day, engineering seems to be the area that has advanced and changed the most," the tall human female observed. "Your power transfer seems much more efficient, and you seem to use plasma for a whole lot more than we used to on the Constitution class. Care to give the cavewoman a lesson or two?"

" Sure. Things have changed from your time, but not by much. We use the same basics- the warp engines are fueled by the reaction of matter and antimatter, mediated through the assembly of dilithium crystals. This reaction produced the highly energetic plasma which we then channel by plasma conduits through the electro-plasma system that power the ship and it's it systems. " Thex said pointing to each part of the system that she knew as if it was her own child.

" For propulsion, the electro-plasma is funneled by plasma injectors into a series of warp field coils, located in the warp nacelles. These coils are composed of verterium cortenide and generated the warp field, " The andorian said, finishing her quick explanation.

“Not as different as I might have imagined,” Paris admitted. “So how is it that you go so much faster now, and how do you not tear the ship apart in the process?”

" A load of advancements to the engines, hull and nacelles. I would need several long hours and a few bottles of andorain ale to describe them all. Tech has advanced quite a bit from your time, though we have sort of become stuck for a while. The maximum speed we can reach is 9.90, though we mostly keep the girl at 9.25. Though if the egg heads fix the quantum slipstream drive we may not need to break warp ten." Thex said fondly, knowing what she was talking about. She did keep up to date with the latest thing being developed by the fleet.

"Quantum slipstream... like those warp tunnel shortcuts from the NX days, but deliberately inciting and controlling the quantum navigation? That's.... that's incredible." Paris was genuinely floored by the revelation as the implications sank in. Then she wagged her finger at the shorter officer. "The warp scale is an entirely different set of calculations, by the way. I haven't had time to look it up yet, but what the hey? Zephram Cochran's calculations not good enough for you in the future?"

" Zephram Cochran's calculations were found to have a few errors when we started getting above warp seven. " Thex explained. " When we get some free time I could get some time on the holodeck and better explain it than I could in here. "

That elicited a peal musical laughter from the comely chrononaut. "Okay, good, I was having a little trouble grasping it myself, truth be told. If the chief engineer can't explain it easily standing in Engineering then I don't feel quite as much like the slow kid in class. Definitely a new scale to adapt to, just like impulse power seems to be a whole lot faster now. But I'll get it, I will." Paris paused, held up her index finger and cocked her head slightly. "Except- ah, what's a holodeck? Commander Xustos mentioned that for flight sims, too...""

" The holodeck is the greatest educational/recreational tool ever built. I won't spoil it for you, but I can guarantee you love it, " Thex replied with a cheeky grin.

A smirk settled in on the face of the gold mini-dressed anachronism, and she shifted her weight to cock one hip out to drape her hand on it. "I just found out gold got relegated to engineering and security this morning, that warp theory is now on a completely different scale and that dubstep is still in style after another century. Spoilers aren't exactly something I worry about. C'mon, give, Blue... what's a holodeck?"

Time to find out of that's a racist comment in the future, Paris thought, hoping she was actually establishing a bond of friendship with the cheerful engineer. While there had been a few Andorians at the Academy when she had been there, she'd never served with one. Starfleet Academy mad sure she knew the basics of their world and culture, but this was far and away the longest conversation she'd ever had with a member of the blue-skinned alien race. On a ship where the humans were here but not in key positions, Paris was still adapting to being the exception. The Exeter had been 430 souls of 98% human crew with a few standout exceptions. On the Hera it seemed as though Starfleet had most certainly made good on its promise of inclusion to other races of the Federation in Starfleet.

But as she was no bigot and did not discriminate against anyone for their race, species, genders or coloration, Rita was still hoping a little sense of humor and camaraderie here with her little icebreaker.

" Imagine if with a word you could load a program and be anywhere in the galaxy. Go from standing on this ship to feeling the sand of California under your feet, go from there to an Orion dancing club on Theta Jordani III. Go from that to any historical or fantasy event you can imagine. " Thex responded, not showing any signs of being offended by anything the time traveler had said.

“All done with holograms... and I guess the replicators and what, force fields? That’s... incredible," Paris admitted. “So I could virtually visit Malibu even though I’d still be on the Hera? Is this on every starship in the future?”

" Correct on all counts- we have them on almost all of the federation. Along with most colonies and stations. The smaller federation ships don't have them due to size." Thex responded grinning.

“Wow, here’s to the future,” Paris grinned back. Pausing to consider, the pretty pilot went for broke. “Look, brutal honesty here. I am literally a stranger in a strange land, and you are by far the friendliest officer I’ve met on this boat. I’ve got nobody- no friends, relatives, shipmates, old Academy pals. I am literally alone in the universe in a way I honestly doubt you can imagine. I know it might sound odd, and if I am overstepping a boundary I apologize, but I could seriously use a friend around here. Think you could be pals with a throwback who’s going to forever be a little behind the curve?” Paris shrugged broadly.

" You don't need to ask, Paris. We're already friends. In fact, I have one of the holodeck 7 booked for after my shift ends- would you like to come along and you can see it for yourself?" The andorian said a smile on her face.

The smile that broke out on Rita Paris’ face was broad and genuine, the first real smile had graced her face since arriving aboard the Hera. “That would be... that would be great. Thank you! It really means a lot to me. So off duty I call you... Thex?”

" Sure you can, Paris. I'll call you using the computer when I've finished taking care of this girl. I get off in around three hours. " The andorian replied as she tapped the ships warp core.

"That sounds great, Lieutenant sh'Zoarhi. And please, call me Rita," Paris added with a smile as she strode away, off to investigate yet another wonder of the future.

" Okay, Rita... I'll see you later." The andorian responded smiling as she returned to work.

Crew quarters onboard starships of the Constitution-class were located throughout the vessel's saucer section. On starships of the original configuration such as the Exeter, the officers' quarters featured two areas, separated partly by a wall fragment. One area was allocated as sleeping area, featuring a comfortable bed, and another as work area, providing a desk and computer terminal. Entrance to a bathroom was provided through the quarters' sleeping area. Both areas could be configured to personal preference.

Rita Paris had customized her living space extensively, covering it in shelves lined with books and bricabrac and plastic glow in the dark toys all magnetized to the shelves. Her behavioral psychiatrist bck at Starfleet Medical had explained that by surrounding herself with things, items, and possessions, she reinforced to herself that she existed in the material world. Her quarters were a reflection of her personality; seeming chaos but neat, clean and with an order she understood if no one else did. Much of that order and structure had come from sharing both space and minds with the blue-clad Commander Sonak. He would be the one to pack up and her belongings and remove them from her quarters on the USS Exeter, keeping only a glow in the dark Smurfette figurine as a memento.

Vulcans would call that sentiment. But that was impossible because Sonak was a kolinahr, the last of his kind. He had long ago purged himself of all emotion.

For if he'd borne the capacity for emotions, they surely would have destroyed him.


Most crew quarters on board the USS Hera were located within the ship's saucer section, in order to provide safety during a saucer separation. The accommodations of higher-ranked officers lined the edge of the saucer section, as they were scenic but far more dangerous. They contained a living area, a bedroom and a bathroom area. The living area contained a replicator terminal, thus the space was customizable with a variety of furniture, decoration and configuration. Most of the senior officers' quarters had several vertical windows each, through which one could see the stars or the smear of stars at warp. These windows were set into an angled ceiling.

The living room was twice the size of the Bridge, maybe more. The head alone was half the size of Captain Stuart's ready room. There was large, tasteful and decadently comfortable furniture spread out over what Rita couldn't help but see as an enormous waste of space.



"This is bigger than a stateroom... heck, it's a third the size of the theater. Un-be-lievable."

Wandering around in a daze, Paris was still trying to acclimate that these three conference rooms strung together were her quarters when the comm chirruped, seeming to come from all around her.

having packed away her tools and finished off her shift, Thex had just finished scrubbing herself clean in the sonic shower. Getting out and picking up her combadge, she tapped it and asked for Rita Paris. =^= Hey Rita, it's Thex. You still up for the holodeck?=^= She asked politely as she walked to her dresser.

Instinctively Paris reached behind her for her communicator, then when with practiced ease she had in in hand before her she eyed it dubiously before flipping it open. It might still be the right frequency, but it might just make a comm call to be routed through the communications panel on the bridge, which would likely result in more questions and confusion. So Paris tried something else, instead answering thin air.

"Uh, yes, definitely, I'm still up for it... where do I meet you?" The nubile navigator felt foolish basically talking to herself, but reasoned this must be a function of the comm system onboard. Maybe it was vibrating the localized forcefields to produce the appropriate sounds? There was so much she was going to have to get caught up on, and not even knowing how the comms actually worked in the modern day reinforced that to her. On the bright side, now she might just have a local to ask stupid questions who actually knew how everything worked. Although the ship's computer was being quite forthright about answering her queries, which was a relief.

" I'll meet you at your quarters if that's okay. I can show you a few things that you may want to know. I'll see you in a second," Thex said as she quickly pulled on a white tank top and matching shorts.

"That sounds great, I appreciate it Thex. See you in a few..." Paris replied absently as she continued to marvel at the spacious quarters.

It only took Thex a while to reach her new friend's quarters- after all, they were practically neighbors in officer's country. With a smile on her face, she pressed the button and waited for the door to open.

The chime sounded, shaking Rita Paris from her shock and amazement over the size and luxury of her quarters. If you stacked bunk beds in here, you could house a company of enlisted in this billet. Walking over to the door, there was a simple manual control, but Rita cocked an eyebrow experimentally. The computer was always listening via the sensors, and it seemed intuitive so far.

"Open."

One simple word was not enough to open the door, but then she realized that she hadn't programmed in parameters yet. Fetching the PaDD from where she had set it down on the coffee table, Rita spent a few seconds flipping through menus before remembering that her guest was still outside.

"Computer, open the door of my quarters."

The command was in truth longer than it needed to be, but the computer chirruped and parroted, =^= Opening the door of Lieutenant Paris' quarters =^= The quarters door slid open to reveal the pale blue-skinned engineer, standing casually in her casual clothes.

"It's a little more complex, but I'm getting it..." Paris grinned, then noticed Thex's wardrobe and a somewhat puzzled expression crept over her face. "Oh, you're wearing civvies... on the ship?" The old school Starfleet gal seemed genuinely taken aback by the concept.

"Were you not allowed? " The andorian said, rather puzzled. She had thought it would have been the same even back then. " Still we can walk and talk on the way to the holodeck if your ready?"

"Sure, we dressed that way in quarters sometimes, but not about the ship... should I change?" Paris asked, genuinely clueless about the activity they were planning to embark upon together. "It can't be that hard to get a pair of shorts and a top out of the replicator, right? Just punch in the size, material and color and it just spits it out, doesn't it?"

" Or you can just speak to it and it can replicate your order. The ship's computer is a little more advanced than you're back in the day." The andorian replied with a grin.

Raising both eyebrows, Rita began speaking to thin air. "Computer, replicate one pair of ladies running shorts, size eleven, gold. One pair of white running shoes, size nine and a half narrow. One pair of white cotton ankle socks, one white cotton tank top, size extra large. One extra large sports bra. Now," she offered the petite Andorian a grin, "Let's see if I have a set of civvies waiting for me..."

Thex grinned as the familiar hum from the Paris replicator filled the room. " I think you're order's done. Impressive, isn't it?"

"That is beyond impressive, it's amazing," Paris gasped as she crossed the room to the replicator to find her casual clothes, just as she'd ordered them, waiting in a tidy folded pile in the replicator. "Okay, give me a second to change here and I'll be ready to go." With that, Paris grabbed her pile of clothes with the running shoes on top and hustled into the bedroom that was bigger than the entirety of her quarters used to be on the Exeter.

"So I noticed you don't carry a communicator, what's up with that?" Paris shouted from the other room. "Only on away missions because the ship's computer hears any command? And how does it not misinterpret conversation from commands, by not adding the command word 'computer'?"

" Oh, our communicator is now in the combadges. They can track you and keep in contact with the ship within several thousand miles. The computer can also track your voice patterns to help it identify if you're talking to it. Though it can sometimes mess up and replicate something by accident. Still, you can just simply disassemble it if that's the case." The andorian explained as she waited patiently.

"I have to admit, the fact that the transporters are now the technology used to turn everything into everything else is not reassuring to me, given my experiences," Paris explained as she changed. "I'd hate to step onto the transporter and end up as someone's fresh-pressed uniform and boots." Paris poked her head back into the main living room. "Let me guess- 'we have safety precautions to prevent that', right?"

" Off course we have safety precautions. The tech gone along way since your time." Thex replied calmly.

"I think the reason I never remember civvies on the Exeter, or really any post I had, was because being Starfleet meant that people recognized you, right away. They knew we were the good guys- we wore bright colored uniforms that made us stand out, and that was the point. Plus," Paris stepped out from the open bedroom door pluck at her top a bit, readjusting it. Her abundant curves were evident in the softer fabrics of the workout clothes, but the fit was loose and casual. "Plus I've always been a workaholic, so I'm always on duty. Surprisingly often, catastrophes and crisis begin when I go off-duty."

Of course, Paris had no idea how prophetic those words would be today in particular, because the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

" I know that feeling. You don't know what embarrassment is when you have to help run engineering whilst wearing an orion dancers outfit." the blue girl said grinning to herself as she lead the way to the turbolift.

"You didn't? I mean, girl, that takes a LOT of guts to wear one of those..." Paris observed as she fell in step with her fellow officer.

Thex blushed slightly as they continued walking. " It's actually a hobby of mine. I picked it up after a mission with intel into orion space."

"Whaaaaat, are you serious? You do the whole," Paris undulated her hands a bit in emulation of the famed slave girl dance. "For fun? Learned it for the mission and now you keep it up?"

A grin spread over Thex face as she began moving her hips, belly, feet and hands in the correct manner. It was harder to do with trainers on her feet, but she could still easily do a few moves. " Not bad for an andorian tech girl." She said smiling to herself.

"Are you kidding me? That's genuinely awesome, Thex! Color me jealous- I can't dance two steps," Paris admitted. "It's good to have hobbies, and it sounds like you really enjoy this one. I'm glad you kept with it if it makes you happy- life is about those moments, right?"

" Indeed. " The andorian replied as they arrived outside the holodeck. The doors opened and the andorian allowed her new human friend to step inside. " Welcome to the holodeck, Paris. It may not seem like much, but where would you like to go?" The andorian asked.

Stepping in through the doorway, Paris eyed the black room with the yellow grid pattern overlaid upon it with some dubious apprehension. Her first thought, by instinct, was to reply 'back to the Exeter', but that wasn't an answer, and it was no way to treat a new friend who was helping her by showing her around. "Okay... well, my first thought was a nice sunny beach in California, but I'm guessing that's not exactly your kinda scene, coming from a polar world. Um... do you run? Track or cross country? It always helps me process things, and it clears my head. We can do that in here, right?"

" How about the academy's nature trail. Not sure if it was at Starfleet Academy in your day, but it was always nice when I wanted to run to clear my head. " The andorian suggested.

That brought a smile to the face of the athletic anachronism. “Back in the fifties we did have a nature trail, and while it may have changed since my day, it’s still someplace familiar to me. Thanks, Thex- that’s very considerate of you.” The healthy helmsman nudged the shoulder of the gregarious engineer. “So how does this work? Tell me it doesn’t involve being transported...”

A grin spread across the andorian's face as she spoke simply. " Computer, load latest version, Starfleet Academy program, start of the nature trail." In less than a second, the room changed and was replaced. For Thex the familiar bridge over the creek that lead toward the forest at the back of the academy was a familiar sight. She waited for a moment for Paris to take in the sudden change of scenery.

Breathing in deeply, Paris smelled the air- clean and fresh, with a hint of the sea. She knew this scent well- San Francisco was Rita's home town, where she had been born and spent most of the years of her childhood, with her father The Commander stationed at Starfleet Command. Kneeling on the path, she sorted the dirt between her fingers and watched it fall.

"Incredible... it's a real-life simulation, down to the blades of grass." Plucking one up, she snapped it and sniffed, noting the fresh sent and feeling the slight moisture of the chlorophyll based plant life that was so efficiently being replicated by the holodeck environment. "This is absolutely and utterly fascinating, Thex. How long has this been around? I mean, I realize it is the inheritor of our old holographic theaters, but this... it's Earth natural gravity no less, I can actually feel it! Birds chirping in the distance! I think I hear a shuttle banking off to the northwest over by the campus. All this from holograms and forcefields and replicators?"

Thex smiled at her friends reaction. It was always fun to see people encounter the holodeck for the first time. " They were around since 2330, but they only became widespread since 2360. It's true, this is all holograms and replicators. "

"Remarkable," Paris remarked in awe, taking it in for a moment. "And we're still in that six by six by six meter chamber, but it can simulate anything through technological wizardy and use of the shields and replicators and holograms we never dreamed of. And for... anything. You can do starship design in here, go for a nature run, relive history..." Paris paused at that, made a pained little smile then laid her leg onto a fence rail and began stretching. "We'd better stretch out, eh?"

The andorian nodded and joined the human in using the fence rail to stretch her blue legs.

As they finished their stretches, Rita hiked a thumb up the trail in an unspoken query, and the two women set off, both easily falling into the Starfleet jog together as military personnel tended to do. "Okay, so... short form, I was born in 2233. Daddy 'The Commander' didn't love me so I kept pushing my Starfleet career to impress him, which was never going to happen. He arranged for an accident that resulted in me spending 4 1/2 years of a five year mission as a warp ghost haunting the ship. Couldn't sleep, couldn't affect the real world, couldn't die. They figured it out and put me back together, I spent a few years at Starfleet Psych then then sent me in as part of a fresh sweep restaffing of a ship that had gone rogue, the Exeter. Best career move of my life- I served under Stuart and Sonak, and they were amazing men separately, but together they- we were amazing, and we pulled off unbelievable missions."

Trotting along the path, Paris finished out the confessional of who she was to her new friend. "Sonak was beaming me out- ion storm, solar flares, earthquakes, damaged equipment. The usual, right?" Rita chuckled, suspecting that her alien shipmate knew exactly what she meant.

The andorian had to pause for a second. She had thought her own "fathers" were bad, but they'd never left her as a warp ghost. " The usual everything that can go wrong will go wrong mission." She replied to the human second point.

"Well, we thought we had it under control, but...when he beamed me out, this time it was different. When they beam me.... I can feel it. The psychs tell me that it's all in my head, but I can feel it. I lose a little bit of me every time they beam me. And I'm aware... time slows down." Paris realized how what she was saying might be perceived, and got to the point. "This time it was different, and I was just.... everywhere, then nowhere. I don't know how long I hung out there in space, but I was dissipating until the Hera ran me over or yanked me in passing by, but she snagged me in the warp bubble and... you know the rest of the story.

"Except that this isn't my future," Rita jogged backward over a length of the trail she knew well, where she could pull it off. ". I haven't looked myself up yet, but apparently the Captain's heard of her and is a fan. Whoever she was, she's not me. My history is different from this one... I think the transporter interacted with the ion storm to shuffle me between dimensions. I'm a hundred and twenty-seven years out of time and I'm in the wrong dimension to boot, Thex. I honestly don't think it is possible to get as lost in space as I have become, my friend." At that the even slope ended and a series of steppes had to be run, and without skipping a beat Rita Paris turned back around to charge up the trail.

" Is that even possible? I've never heard of the transporter doing that. True it's had accidents, but never any like that. We'd need to let headquarters know about this and maybe run it with the science boys." Replied the blue engineer as she kept up with her human friend.

"I can't figure out if you've encountered it here- not with what I've read so far," Paris admitted as she kept pace with the cheerful engineer. "We did it by accident back on the Exeter, and we interacted with a dimension where the timeline was similar but not identical- where the Federation were xenophobic humans against the rest of the galaxy. They call themselves the Terran Empire, and they are... well, they are a piece of work. Let's just say it's not a nice place to find yourself if you are a nice Andorian girl. Belly shirts, advancement through assassination and rampant humancentric conquest of the galaxy, all accessible through excessive ionization of a transporter signal. Sonak knew the science- I just got us through the mission so we could get back home."

"So of course I don't know enough about the science to even begin to explain it competently. Although at one point Sonak admitted there might be something about my particular quantum field that invites 'exotic reactions' from the transporters." Paris grunted at that, not even a laugh.

" Sound like a rather unpleasant bunch. The name rings a bell, but I can't remember much. " Thex said before she remembered something. " Hang on, that blocker was placed in the transporters to stop excessive ionizating. We must have had some contact with them."

"Maybe that's how Starfleet deals with them here- take steps to avoid ionization and otherwise quarantine them. That was our answer," Paris admitted with a shrug. "But long and short, Thex, I am marooned, girl. I mean lost on top of lost, so there is absolutely no way I'm getting home. So... aside from bringing me up to date on the latest tenchnologies- look, I'm getting a tan, that's incredible. You mentioned some bad stuff was going on aboard the Hera- fill me in, shipmate. What's going on?"

" Some of the senior staff are infected with a substance known as black blood, after a battle with a creature known as the Master. The black blood causes shadow creatures to appear, and is slowly turning our fellow ship mates into things that many of us have no idea what to call them. We don't know how long it will be until they lose control of themselves and attack the rest of us. Now we're trying to find a cure for them, and the only lead we have is that of an old legend from celtic mythology." The andorian replied keeping pace before pausing in her speech.

" You know, I never thought when I joined the fleet I'd end up fighting the Greek gods. Pity we can't find any of the Andorian gods. I could use some advice from our god of love." She jokingly said as she caught up to her friend.

Slowing her pace a little to let the shorter -legged Andorian catch up, Rita processed all of what the petite engineer had laid out for her. "Okay... so do we know who is infected? We have some lead on a cure but that's then, this is now... shadow creatures appear, shipmates becoming something beyond comprehension... okay, sounds like a Starfleet day at the office. They were right- the more things, change, the more they stay the same. So guessing we have some restricted to quarters or quarantined personnel, and we have to hope nothing goes wrong before we get to our destination, which what are the odds of that?" Partis chuckled, a sound she realized she was making a lot lately rueful little laughs seemed to be her stock in trade in her new life.

Changing the subject, Rita took a bold step. "So what's wrong with your love life, blue? I'm no expert but I've gotten a lot of good advice over the years, maybe I can help. Lay it on me," the golden California girl offered. Thex was unassuming, friendly and was willing to befriend a time-tossed stranger. The least Rita could do was to try to help her with her love life if it were sat all possible, she reasoned.

" Well, I'm an Andorian grease monkey looking to hopefully try and have her own family. For that, I'd need three other andorians of our other genders. Given my species not exactly being that common in Starfleet, finding just one is a nightmare, forget about all three. So I have to look elsewhere. Combined with my species new religious movement that's spreading like a plague, now starfleet andorians are turning into a no-go. So I'm even more out of luck. At least I don't have to worry about my egg reproduction, unlike large numbers of my species." The andorian responded.

"Wow. I've got to admit, Thex, when I offered my help I didn't realize you had problems this serious. You don't need love life advice, you need a Starfleet social dating app," Paris observed. "Does that exist, or do we have to invent it here in the future?"

" It does, but I've had no luck with it." Thex replied grinning.

"So, you said 'look elsewhere'... like what? Do they have robots and cyborgs in this future you can take up with if flesh and blood don't avail? You have holodeck orgies? You thinking interspecies romance? What has 'elsewhere' encompassed, if you don't mind my asking?" Jogging along, chatting with another officer with problems in her personal life, Paris realized she was comfortable for the first time since she'd been reassembled in this reality. This was comforting and familiar to her, and she suspected she and the pale blue-skinned alien woman would spend a lot of time here in this flawless simulation of Rita's home world.

Thex laughed slightly at the human's response. She had so much to catch up to. " Several, but non andorian relationships have gone nowhere. The holodeck can be good for some fun... but it can have complications, and you can't have kids with them."

"You really want that home and hearth, settle down thing over a career amongst the stars, Thex? I mean, you can't bring a family with you in Starfleet, so you'd give up your career just to have kids? I know your people aren't fast at reproducing but it isn't that desperate, is it?" Every word that spilled out of the anachrositc astronaut's mouth showed how very out of touch she was with modern Andorian society. Paris clearly wasn't malicious nor discriminatory in the least, but she had ignorant down to a science.

Thex was about to respond before she realized Rita didn't know about new changes. " Well, you can now have a family onboard ship. Have been able to do that for some time. Also, you wouldn't know about this, but my species is having a population problem. People are looking into fixing it, but sadly we have no luck so far."

"Crap, I'm sorry Thex... I know it isn't a good answer but I didn't know. I guess I should watch what I say in the future since I don't know much about current affairs." Paris ran in silence for a moment before continuing. "You're a nice gal and I'm sure you're a catch, Thex. Some... other three people will come along for you." It sounded just as lame to Paris as it did coming out of her mouth, and that led to a somewhat successful change of subject.

"Families on starships, huh? That's... definitely new... well, to me at least. Not sure how I feel about that. But," she amended quickly, "if it helps your people then I guess some good comes out of it? Just seems like a starship wouldn't be the place for SO's and children underfoot. But maybe I'm just too old-fashioned in my thinking."

" It's okay, Rita. No one expects you to know everything. I've been on a few ships with plenty of kids and we've had no problem. They learn to stay away from area's they shouldn't be in. " The andorian replied as they reached the hilltop. The academy and distance city looked so small from up here. " It's changed since your time, hasn't it?" She said to her friend.

Pausing to take in the vista, Rita looked over the Academy and San Francisco spread out beyond it. One wouldn't expect that much change in a hundred years or so, but there was quite a bit of difference. Rita could identify very few buildings left on campus, and there were only a few elements of the San Francisco skyline that were still landmarks to her. She didn't bother to ask confirmation if this was what it really looked like these days- she'd heard Thex call it up as the modern Academy. This was what her old home town looked like now, and her old alma mater. Not much about them were old, expect the parts that she remembered.

"I'm an antique, Thex. The world I knew was so long ago, and there's so little of it left. One minute I was on the cutting edge of tomorrow, the next minute I'm living in tomorrow, and it really outpaced what we thought it would be. Now I'm a hundred years behind the times... a hundred and twenty-seven, as my conscience keeps reminding me," she chuckled ruefully, shaking her head.

"You know the part that gets me? The uniforms," Paris snapped, suddenly on a tear. "We were Starfleet. We wore bright colors so you could spot us easily. We were there to help, and we wanted to be seen. These days the uniforms are all black with a little dark grey and a subdued hint of color at the neckline, We're not showing up to gather people to us as the helpers, the rescuers, the heroes. We're all in black now, like spies or ninjas or black ops soldiers. Starfleet looks sinister now. What happened to us, Thex?"

" War happened Rita. You haven't seen the body bags coming back from the dominion front. You don't want to know what the borg will do to us." The andorian simply replied. " We had to become soldiers, or else it would have ended all of us. "

"We were always soldiers, Thex," Rita countered. "But we didn't stop being the good guys to overcome what we fought. We were always better than that, setting an example for the galaxy. Is this what war did? Were our enemies so great that we had to abandon our ideals to become them in order to defeat them?"

" No. We didn't become them, Rita. We still are the same Federation. It's just going to take time to heal from the war, and we will always have to watch out for the Borg." Thex replied, though she doubted it herself. Rita had hit upon something that she'd felt herself- something in Starfleet had changed after the war, and everyone knew it.

Shaking her head, Rita argued. "All due respect Thex- I know I literally came along yesterday, but no, I think it isn't the same Federation. Maybe I am jumping to conclusions, but it definitely doesn't seem to be the same Starfleet- not from what I've seen so far. And who are these Borgs everyone keeps going on about? Can you explain them to me so that I can understand why everyone is so afraid of them?"

" Computer, load wolf 359 observation program." Thex said as the holodeck changed. A black map of a star system took its place, along with representations of forty federation starships. Paris looked around in amazement before focusing on the starships and he formations. As they began to form into a battle formation, the map briefly zoomed out. A single object was moving towards the system, followed by the Galaxy-class UUS Enterprise-D. A Klingon battle fleet had moved over the border, and was on a course for earth.

" Imagine a pseudo-species driven by only one purpose. To assimilate all other life in the galaxy. They feel no pain, no emotion and do not fear death. They can adapt to any technological attack we can throw at them within minutes. They are a coordinated hive mind that are bent on one goal- conquest. The assimilation of all life, brought under their mechanical control," The andorian said as the cube arrived in the wolf 359 system.

The battle played out before them as the cube wiped out the fleet in less than a minute, before returning to warp speed.

" They killed or assimilated 11,000 personnel and thirty-nine starships in less than a minute. If not for the crew of the Enterprise, they'd have assimilated Earth and every other planet in the Federation. We now have a whole department trying to figure out a way of stopping them for good." Thex said looking at the battle wreckage that littered the system.

Moving like giants amongst the wreckage of the famous battle which was news to the officer from the era of five-year missions, Paris idly reached out a finger to touch a Constitution-class starship hulk that was floating amongst the debris. A tear welled up in her eye, but the Starfleet officer brushed it aside.



"Have we seen them in person? These 'Borg'?"" Paris asked her guide to the future, trying to grasp what had made Starfleet go so dark in the intervening years. Seeing the carnage and wreckage left in the wake of the square starship, she was beginning to get the idea. It had been the most one-sided interstellar battle Paris had ever seen, and she was no stranger to starship combat.

" Computer, show assimilated drone examples, " Thex ordered as the deck changed again- still jarring to Rita, but she was somewhat getting used to the fact that this room could apparently generate a tangible illusion of anything. It went back to the 'off' setting with its black walls and yellow lines, only it now displayed six borg drones. A collection of human, klingon, andorian, bajoran, Krani and Keni drones appeared, staring blankly at the unlikely duo.

" This is why everyone fears them. They are us. They take our own people, and make them fight us. They take your mind and leave you a husk, bashing on the inside of your head as a monster pilots your body around to help assimilate anyone else they encounter, " Thex explained, looking with undisguised fear at the assimilated andorian.

"Zombies... technological zombies that are made out of the raw materials of our own people and tech... egad, that's absolutely horrifying, Thex. No wonder Starfleet changed so much. This is the boogeyman that scared Starfleet so much that they had to change, huh? I guess they just haven't found the solution yet. But until then Starfleet is running scared of the newest threat." Paris chuckled darkly. This reminds me of the debates about using cloaking devices aboard Starfleet vessels. Some argued that we had to use them snce the Klingons and the Romulans both used them. But the purists argued that we're Starfleet- we don't hide like thieves in the night, we come openly in peace."

Pausing, Paris slid her eyes sideways to eye her petite blue friend. "Let me guess, we cloak now too, don't we?"

" No, we still don't have a cloak. The Romulans gave us a few during the dominion war, but we've returned all of them. I could build one if the captain wants one, provided she could give me a few days and a cargo hold of coffee. " Thex joked. She had actually built a cloak when she'd been on the Orion mission, but that was to help hide the operations computer cores from any Orion spies.

"Hey, that's good news though, Thex! See, we do still come out in the open with the extended hand of peace. That's good, that's still Starfleet and I can.... that makes me feel like I'm still part of the same organization, you know? These things..." Rita eyed the Klingon Borg soldier dubiously. His unblinking eye stared through her, the other some sort of cybernetic eye that probably saw in a hundred spectrum and reported everything he saw. "Zombies enslaved by technology. The greatest threat to Starfleet is literally poetic? Tell me there wasn't a guiding hand to that, my friend."

" It is rather poetic, but I see no guiding hand. The borg are just as flawed as the rest. It's the only reason we can still keep beating them. If not we'd all be doomed." The andorian said still looking at the assimilated andorian. "Shall we try out a diffrent program? This is making me rather depressed."

Realizing that in that catastrophically one-sided battle that they had just borne witness, there were likely few in Starfleet who did not have a comrade, a classmate or a friend on one of those vessels, and in that moment Paris realized how much it had hurt Starfleet, as a whole, by seeing it on the face of her otherwise chipper compasnion. Yeah.... you mentioned explaining advanced warp theory on the holodeck... think we could touch on that? I probably need to know the laws of physics before I go round bending them," Paris joked.

Twenty minutes later, the crash course in Advanced Warp Theory And 127 Years Of Changes In It had been taught and absorbed, and the duo were seated in the cockpit of a holodeck simulated runabout.

"Why a runabout?" Thex asked.

"Because if you can fly a little craft like a starship, a starship flies like a shuttle. Or a, ah, runabout, right?", Paris responded, looking over the interior of the runabout with amazement. "There's a transporter back there. This is a one-woman starship right here. I could live in one of these things."

Realizing that might be a bit odd, Paris dropped into the pilot's seat, forward port. "Okay, we'll need a hazardous terrain- asteroid field, busy space station, civilian traffic- what are you in the mood for, Thex? Let me show you some piloting!" The bravado behind the words was there, at least partially, because it was clear Paris had to prove something to herself. Also to show off that she was good at something to her impressive friend from the very impressive future.

" Try the Varpulis system. A large mess of gravitational pockets, random asteroids and other flying hazards. I remember going there once and we could feel the ship moving even down in engineering," Thex suggested.

"Perfect!," Paris declared as she familiarized herself with the runabout's systems. "Manual override is.... here, navigation control and plotting.. no, I want manual control... no... here? No... wait, here it is, okay. Shields and deflectors... ah, thanks Thex. All right, now for..." Paris looked up. "Computer, simulate the Varpulis system as a flight simulation with this runabout. Use my presets for the runabout.... yes I do know that means autopilot will be disengaged, thank you..."

There was some hubbub setting it all up, and there were still a few mishaps- "Wait, why are the controls only for one plane, and why are they not aligned toward the center of the galaxy?!?" But for the next half hour, the past tense pilot demonstrated to the modern engineer that knowing how to make do with a whole lot less made her quite the pilot in the modern day. Even if she still wasn't completely positive which screen held which menu just yet. But she learned fast, and while they were caught in a gravitational eddy more than once, Rita Paris managed to pull them out by bending gravity back on itself with creative piloting or a whipcrack maneuver or she just plain managed to pilot them to avoid the phenom (along with various asteroids and debris) to bring them in mostly safe and sound. The condition of the hull would definitely need a report filed were it real.

" Well, it looks like you're getting the hang of the future tech. At least the flying part." the andorian said, having been put through a rather wild ride. " If you can fly like that, the Hera should be in good hands."

“I’d like to think so. A few more finesse controls I’m not used to using, a lot of manual overrides to input, but gravity and propulsion and mass and velocity are still constants, so I’m still in business,” Paris offered as she reclined in the pilot’s seat, propping her black knee boots on the holographic flight console.

“Thanks for this, Thex... I need to get up to speed, but I really needed to feel like I'll still be able to make a contribution, you know? If Starfleet is all I have left, then I needed to know that I could still be useful to Starfleet. And now I do,” the sunny California girl grinned, a very self-satisfied expression. “Thanks to you.”

" You did it all by yourself, Rita. I was just here to lend a hand." The andorian responded with her own warm smile. She was happy she'd been able to help this lost traveler from another world.

“Not all by myself, shipmate. I get by with a little help from my friends,” Rita patted the smaller woman on the shoulder. “What do you say, wanna wow me with what the galley can offer for our meal credits and we’ll see if I can’t afford to get you something cold and chocolatey and decadent?”

Thex was about to reply as her combadge went off. =^= Boss, can you come down to engineering? =^= came the familiar sound of one of her officers. " Sorry Rita. Looks like my job's calling me. I'll go and see what they want, and meet you in the officer's mess. " the andorian said before she spoke again. " Computer, replicate Thex standard uniform." She said as her clothes were replaced with her normal engenering catsuit. " I'll see you later." She said as she headed for the exit.

Watching the slender Andorian go, Paris marveled at the ease in which she so casually lived in this high-tech future. Mimicking the command, Paris formulated her request into thin air.

"Computer, please replicate my uniform circa 2268. Command gold, lieutenant commander, size extra large, duty boots size nine narrow and queen sized black hosiery." as the transporter hummed around her, rearranging the molecules of her existing clothing and adding more to replicate her out-of-date uniform, Paris broke out in a cold sweat, but she managed to keep it together. While it had all the earmarks it wasn't actually transporting, so she could contain her anxiety.

For now, she had a few more minutes left on the holodeck before Thex met her up on deck 5. For now, she could still do something constructive.

"Computer, recreate the bridge of the Hera," she ordered as the lights suddenly dimmed and the room returned to its black and yellow default grid pattern.

"This... must be trouble," Paris intoned as she moved to go pry the holodeck doors open.

Thex had been a busy girl over the last few days. Having to keep the ship from falling apart on the journey back home as well as deal with her staff numbers dropping to this plague and paranoia caused by said plague. Having been kept awake with nothing but stimulants and coffee the andorian had been able to overpower the pain from her damaged antena.

Now with the ship in dock, she could actually get it seen to. Walking to the sickbay she took nodded to the nurse on the front desk before taking her seat as she waited patiently for a doctor or nurse to arrive.

Matthew limped into his 'new' sickbay and glanced around. Of course, the first thing he saw was the patient board, with a single yellow LED next to the bed that had not yet been seen. Checking the chrono to ensure he knew the time, he walked out into the waiting area and spotted a female Andorian waiting there. "Good morning. Won't you come with me?"

" Same to you." Thex replied as she stood up and followed the doctor. " I've not seen you around here before are you new here?" She inquired politely.

"Just arrived actually, but I'll happily get you squared away before I go and explore every nook and cranny of my new sickbay" his joy in that idea was evident in the rich tone to his voice as he gestured with his cane to the nearest biobed. "If you please."

The andorian nodded as she climbed onto the biobed. " Cheif engineer Thex. If you find anything wrong with the machines in here let me know." She said as she lay down winching as her broken antenna touched the pillow. It was still in the makeshift cast of tape and a few pens.

"I surely will." Matthew answered as his sharp eyes examined the cast she'd cobbled together. "That's a clever splint you made. Bet it hurts like the devil though." Flipping through the analgesics, he found one appropriate for Andorians and pressed it to her neck. He'd rather have her a little sedated than have her lose consciousness from him unwrapping that antenna.

" It does and i had to do it myself in the mirror. " Thex jokingly replied. The sedative was making her feel light headed. " I broke it when we were teleported to the sphere. I just got beamed in upside down."

"Then I would say you are fortunate that you didn't break both antennae." joked Matthew as he took a tiny laser scalpel and sliced through the tape to get a proper look at the antenna. A crushing injury especially to a sensory organ like an antenna could have long lasting effects. "How long has it been just splinted?"

" Hum......." Thex said as she started to think. " Since we left the sphere I think. I've been that busy trying to keep the ship running I've only had a few hours rest."

"How many times have you broken this antenna?" came the quiet response as he examined the nervous tissue of the core of the antenna. It didn't look as if it had fused together properly the last time, there were lines of demarkation that indicated a fracture, that had never seen the light of sickbay.

" Urm three I think including this time. Once it was an accident during work and the other time was back at the academy. " Thex replied calmly as she thought back.

"You've done some damage to the neural conduits in the antenna itself. Any problems with dizziness or balance when you're not broken?" the doctor asked in his soft way as he studied the readouts.

" Only when I've had a few whiskey and cokes. How bad is it? Is it fixable? " The andorian responded her voice showing hints of concern.

"It's bad, but I'll fix it, don't you worry." He patted her shoulder absently, his fingers sliding over the readouts. "Just need to have a look as to the best way to go about it. It's not something you repair every day."

" Thanks, i know my species is hard to work with. Have you treated Andorian before?" the engineer inquired.

"It was quite some time ago, but yes. Though, it was not on his antenna, but on his shoulder." Matthew chuckled softly at the memory of that Andorian, and how the big male had gone down because it had gotten too hot, and managed to dislocate his shoulder.

" Well then I can be you're second. How long will it take to fix my antenna? " The andorian replied. The drugs were fully taking effect as she could know feel them coursing through her system.

"Not long at all." he said softly as he pressed against the top of her head where the antenna attached. There was no deformity there, nor tissue swelling. He straightened the antenna, manually using his sensitive fingertips to realign the fibrous tissue that allowed the antenna to stand upright. Each time he felt one pop back into place, he ran a regenerator over that spot to keep the structure in place, then he could restore the function.

" You have very skilled hands. " The andorian remarked as she felt her antenna move slightly.

"My thanks! I have worked many years to acquire that skill" he answered honestly. Once the structure was in place, he started up a neural stimulation field. This would begin the relay so that he could see where the breaks in neuro-conduction were in the antenna.

" If you don't mind me asking have we had any luck with curing the infected crew? My own staff are getting rather paranoid about it." Thex inquired as she felt a slight itch on her head.

"I've barely begun to investigate that. Though it might take doctors of much higher caliber than I to put together such a puzzle" Matthew answered, wincing a little as the familiar ache tore through his hip bones. Turning his tool in his hand, he pressed it to the antenna softly at the point where the conduction field was registering a break. Come on...work!

Thex winced slightly as she felt a burst of pain in her antenna. A rather good indicator that it had been connected again. " Well, I hope we get it fixed as soon as possible. I don't like my friends suffering and I don't like having alien tech I don't know plugged into my girl."

"I can't say that I'm loving the effects of the virus on people either."

" Completely agree here. Half my staff are jumping at shadows and we're the ones that installed the quarantine tech int eh first place." The Andorian responded. She could feel her antenna starting to move slightly.

"Don't wiggle your antenna till I'm done please" he asked as he touched the regenerator to her again, making the blue flesh light up.

" Sorry. Reflexes." Thex replied as her antenna went back to being as steady as a rock.

"Thank you. Don't worry, I'm almost done." he said as he reset the final break, and then compared it to the other antenna. "I would caution you to be more careful. Now, carefully extend your antenna up to their fullest extension, so I can test the neural conduction."

Thex did so her antenna raising as far as they could go and moving slightly to the left. " Well, I can feel it, doctor. It feels good now that i can feel it moving again. "

"Excellent." he pressed a button to emit a pulse at a range that only an Andorian could hear because of her antenna.

Thex immediately started hearing the high pitched noise. Her antennae started quivering and fell back towards her head. " Yeah, I can hear that. " She said knowing it was final part to see if it worked.

"Excellent! Most excellent indeed." He'd restored the function of the antenna. How delightful, he'd have to study what he'd done at a later date. "Very well, sit up won't you?"

The Andorian did so still feeling slightly groggy from the anesthetic. " I'll keep my diary open for a while then doctor. I take it i should take it easy for a few days?" She said putting her legs over the bio beds side.

"It's probably a good idea, but I know chief engineers...actually any department chief up to and including the captain has problems with that particular order set. Just don't be stupid." He smiled faintly at her, while he put his instruments down.

" I'll do my best doctor. If anything plays up in here just let me know. I'll see you around. " The Andorian said as she made her way to the exit.

"Very good." he spoke to her retreating form, and leaned on the biobed she'd just vacated to stretch out his leg. The angle he'd been standing at had sent the muscles into spasms of burning pain that pulsed with his heart from his lower back to his knees. He was fortunate, for when it went down to his toes he couldn't walk.

As the away team beamed down, the six USS Hera crew members were in a somewhat wooded area but the sounds of sentient life could be heard in the distance. Each were clothed in what scans had told them were common traveller's garb - tan cloth robes and toga-like coverings. It seemed primitive to their standards, but to fit in, it was necessary. They each even had forgeries of travel documents used by the local populace and some local coinage just in case.

The Baroness, whom had worked hard to suppress her accent and was wearing a more fitting eye patch, surveyed the area. "It looks like there's a sizable settlement not far from our position. If we are at the expected location, the temple is less than five kilometers north."

Mal nodded he looked around and, having determined everyone was there and in one piece, he activated a communicator hidden one of the bracers he wore on each wrist.

"Xustos to Hera," he said. "Away Team has arrived safe and sound. We will proceed to the temple located roughly five kilometers north of our current location. Request communications silence except for emergencies to avoid detection by the locals. Don't call us unless you absolutely must. We will contact you when we can do so securely. Xustos, out."

Mal looked at his team.

"Alright, then," he said. "Let's move as briskly as possible. Doctor Lysander, I know that you chose to forgo your exoskeleton to avoid discovery by the locals. Make the best speed you can for as long as you can. Don't be afraid to ask us to slow down if need be. Miss Zhuri, please stay near the good doctor. If we need to make a run for it, you're more than strong enough to pick him up and bolt. If there are no questions, let's go."

Lysander made a face at the idea that he was the 'weak link' of the party, but leaning on his staff nodded slowly. This wasn't a culture where the use of a walking stick was abnormal. He might even surprise some people with his ability to fight with the staff.

Schwein frowned and flipped up her eyepatch for a moment before pulling out her tricorder. "I'm getting no readings on my instruments at all. My eye is getting visual data and that's it. Akira, you are similarly affected, ja?"

Akira stood stunned as her matrix scrambled within her body to diagnose the errors blaring within her. "I am..." Akira replied uneasily. "The Iconian tech in my body is able to detect... something, like a dampening field yet not, and I don't know what to make of it but it has reduced all my capabilities considerably. It's very uncomfortable," she reported, holding her arms around her stomach like she was going to be sick.

Mal put his hand on Akira's shoulder.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked. "Can you push through the discomfort?"

Akira was uncertain, but she nodded anyway. "I think so," she said with measured breaths. "If I'm not trying to focus on whatever is suppressing technology, it's not so bad, but it's still kind of bad... I'll do my best to push through it." She took a few breaths to calm herself, then forced herself to stand straighter so she could focus on the mission. "I'm okay," she affirmed, but the truth was she wanted to get back to the Hera as soon as physically possible!

Mal looked Akira over and then made a command decision.

"I'm sending you back," Mal said. He activated his comm. "Xustos to Hera."

There was no response. Mal frowned and tried his comm again.

"Xustos to Hera, please respond," he said. Still nothing. He turned to the other members of the Away Team. "Try and raise the Hera."

With a tap to the commbadge hidden inside her robes, Akira did as instructed, making no attempt to argue with her superior officer with his decision. "Zhuri to Hera," she attempted, but with no response. "Hera, this is the Away Team, please respond," she tried again, and when that failed, she closed her eyes to see if she could connect with the Hera using her Iconian tech. "The communicator built into the Herald body seems to be ineffective as well," she reported.

"This is looking better already," Read commented with a frown as he looked at their surroundings.

"Baroness, Doctor?" Mal said. "Lieutenant Vaemyn? Try your communicators please."

"I already have, Commander," quipped the Baroness. "I tried activating my built in cybernetics relay to link with the ship and nothing. I'm afraid we are on our own now. Under the circumstances, I suggest we continue the mission as this is likely a test or a circumstance set in place by the Goddess Danu herself, ja?"

Vaemyn nodded in agreement, the purple-skinned Vorta looking oddly comfortable in his loose toga and robes. “Such a scenario would be consistent with the literature that is associated with polytheistic myths, to ensure that the ‘hero’ undertakes their quest in a fair manner without external interference.” Then Vaemyn smiled weakly. “I also...um...suggest that we avoid angering this particular goddess. A dampening field that can supress both Federation and Iconian technology is a bit frightening. Brilliant, to be sure, but frightening.”

"And unsettling," Akira chimed in. "I know you wanted me to return to the ship, sir, but since that doesn't seem to be an option, I will push forward; it's not ideal, but despite the discomfort I am in no danger of any real harm from this field at this time."

"I'm getting a lot of nothing. This is..." Matthew shook his head, not able to articulate the discomfort he had with being cut off. "A test does does parse out well with what we've been discovering doesn't it? The Tuatha'de in Earth mythos were gods led by their baser natures, that might hold true here. It's fascinating but terrifying in equal measure. "

"Yes, I am familiar with the mythos of being led by my baser natures," Mal said with a frown. "Technically, I guess you could say that I am a Tuatha'de, or at least the creation of one, and he made my people look like nymphs and satyrs, to compound the image. Danu could have done something to the Hera. This could also be a completely unrelated problem...though I doubt it. Either way, we have a job to do, so let's get moving and trust that our friends will handle things back on the ship. Mister Read, take the lead, please."

Read nodded. "Aye, Commander." He stepped off several feet ahead of the group. He always hated when tricorders were down but he could still fall back on his Betazoid abilities to detect possible dangers. Right now, he was sensing a lot of primitive thought patterns that belonged to the various wildlife around them as he continued to make his way.

It wasn't long before they were able to make their way to the outskirts of the city around the temple and it became abundantly clear that Danu loved variety. There were people similar to Mal, but based on longhorn sheep intersparsed with more classical long-eared elven looking folk, some blue skinned Nordic peoples gathering for what looked like a drinking competition, some bright red shorter folk that seemed at home hawking wares and doing craft work, numerous green skinned peoples that looked to be at one with the forest around them, and throughout them all what one would generally come to call either Human or Vulcan in general appearance. It was a veritable smorgasbord of peoples and the Hera's people would have no issue slipping through this crowd.

Mal took in the surroundings and made a plan.

"Alright," he said. "Let's head over to that smaller place of worship and get the lay of the land before we try to enter the actual temple, which I can only assume is that impressive looking structure over there."

Mal pointed first to the smaller building in the village proper, then to the larger, more imposing structure on the edge of a cliff.

"Anyone disagree with that or think their time could be better used doing something else?" he asked.

"It's as good a place to start as any other," Akira replied with a shrug. "I've been internally cataloging the different variations of the species here for documentation once we return to the ship, it would be useful for this documentation to get a look at their religious personnel and where they worship."

"It seems that our initial surveys were a little off. Anyone aboard the Hera could have come down and not attracted notice..." Schwein commented as she surreptitiously studied a red eyed, silver haired female guard wielding a rather ceremonial looking pike almost a metter taller than her. "Diversity seems to be..."

The Baroness' observations were interrupted by a large sheep-man throwing a catgirl out of his establishment and bellowing at her. "You've stolen your last coin, ya filthy Mi'qa! Guards! Arrest this thief! Put her to the Trials of the Holy Danu!"

As several guards converged on the catgirl, the effect on her was immediate and drastic. "NO! Please, anything but that! Anything! I beg of you! NOOOO!" Her piteous screams and mewlings could be heard as she was dragged off towards the smaller temple.

"Good riddance..." The sheep-man spit on the ground as he watched the guards drag her off. He then caught sight of the away team and waved to them. "Ho there, friends. New to town? Southern pilgrims, I'm guessing, since it's almost that time of year. I'm Gra'aan'awip and I run the 'Able Host Pub' here, if you need room and board during your stay. Sorry about that unpleasantness. She's had it coming for a while." Reaching up and scratching one of his horns, he stared after the catgirl a bit more. "I just felt sorry for her for some reason I guess so I didn't report her for so long... Guess I thought I was doing her a kindness... Then I caught her stealing from a guest..." Then he turned back to them and smiled widely. "Anyway, enjoy your pilgrimage. If you need anything, just let me know."

The phrase 'Trials of Granweh' caught Mal's attention.

"Excuse me," Mal said to the innkeeper. "As you said, we're...not from around here. We came here because our small community has been without a knowledgeable priest for some time. We've heard of the Trials of Holy Danu, but perhaps you could tell us more?"

Mal wasn't Daytona by a far stretch and subterfuge wasn't really his thing in a situation like this. He hoped he hadn't stepped on a cultural land mine.

The sheep-man looked a bit surprised but motioned to them nonetheless. "You must have travelled very far then. The High Priestess's temple is the best place for knowledge and training, but I'd be happy to tell you what I know, If you're in need of a hot meal with the tale. I've got some good stew and the baker just dropped off some fresh bread and my prices are more than reasonable. How about it?"

The Baroness reached under her travel cloak and felt up the coin purse she'd been issued. "I suggest we take him up on his offer, ja? We should have plenty of coin for our stay if we're careful."

"Of course," Mal said to the Mutton Man. "We'll come right in and order."

Mal followed the innkeeper into his inn, motioning for the Away Team to follow. When they were inside and seated, Mal ordered stew, bread, and ale for the team.

Motioning for them all to sit at the bar, the innkeeper started ladling up wooden bowls of a meat and vegetable stew from a cauldron that was sitting literally on a charcoal fire and serving each of them in turn, setting a mug of ale and half a loaf of bread next to each bowl. "Normally I'd charge three bits per meal, but but since you're pilgrims, I'll only ask for one each, if that's agreeable."

Not receiving any complaints, he continued. "Now... The trials. I'm sure you've heard the legends and tales from your last priest and elders. For thievery, murder, and other crimes, the priestesses put criminals to various trials. There are really only three that most need to worry about though. They're the ones that'll either leave ya scarred or dead. The first one, for thievin..."

He got a bit somber at this point and leaned in. "They heat up a special rod. They say it's something called eye-ron. They get it so hot it glows white. Then you have ta hold it without it burnin ya. No thief comes outta that with a hand left... They say only one's ever been able ta hold it."

He looked around the inn again. "The second trial is a leap oh faith. Y'see, the cliff... it goes around Her Holy Danu's temple. No Mi'qa could jump it and they're good at that. Ya murder someone, ya got ta prove ya can walk on air from one temple to the other to beg forgiveness from Danu Herself. But guess what. The door... It's locked. Ya need a crystal key. And ya get to pick it out of a bunch'a identical ones afore walkin across."

The Sheep man winked conspiratorially at this point and moved in a bit closer. "But me pa... He knew the secret oh them keys... He said sanny... Sanny, ya ever need tae get thae key, ya sing tae it... It'll shae ya thae wae..."

Glancing around again, the innkeeper busied himself with cleaning some mugs.

Sing to the keys, Matthew wondered if the true key had a harmonic tone that made it ring or something intriguing like that. It was fortunate that he could sing, though he was unaware if any of the others were musically inclined- he certainly was.

"Alright," Mal said. "Well, we have an idea of what Danu might ask from us if we seek an audience with her. I can carry a tune if I need to and I have one of my flutes with me. But I have no idea how we are supposed to walk on air or hold a white hot iron. Before we worry about that, let's ask around at the little temple about how to get an audience with Danu, Herself, Herself."

"I've a pretty good voice" Matthew admitted quietly, and smiled at the understatement that was. His voice was his one redeeming quality since most women didn't find his physique terribly attractive.

Mal smiled.

"That's helpful," he said. "Because, talented as I am, even I can't play the flute and sing at the same time. Let's get moving."

Read blinked at the conversation going on before him. 'This is definitely above my pay grade,' he thought. 'Why couldn't Lieutenant Commander T'Pral have come instead?'

"Uhm...because she's very ill?" Mal said. "None of the infected were assigned to this mission. Once we have secured Danu's assistance, we will bring them here. And, yes, I am aware that we currently cannot contact the Hera. We are just going to have to trust that our colleagues aboard ship can handle whatever the problem is. Have faith, Mister Read. We will obtain Danu's assistance, Captain Telvan and the rest of the crew will deal with whatever problem has cut off communication, and our infected comrades will be cured. But that will only happen if we get to work. Baroness, you are the closest thing to an Intelligence Officer that we have with us. Please take the lead in our conversation with the priests. Alright, we're here. Baroness, you're on!"

Schwein nodded and headed into the temple with the others close behind her. Not far away, they could see the catgirl being put to the trial with the white hot rod that the innkeeper spoke of earlier and the screams she let loose as the rod burnt her hand to the bone gave even the Baroness pause. Even the priestesses administering the trial were handling the rod with long tongs to carry it from the furnace to the accused.

"Oi... It would have been kinder to have cut her hand off, ja?" Schwein muttered under her breath as they headed towards the main shrine, deeper in the temple.

A woman stepped out and greeted them, garbed in white silks and wearing a crimson head dress and smiled at them tightly. "Greetings. You are the travellers from the stars, yes? The Holy Danu has warned me of your coming. I am Her High Priestess. I welcome you to Her Holy House." She then bowed respectfully.

Schwein was a bit taken aback by the greeting, but nevertheless, she pressed forward, returning the same bow. "Ah, yes... You are correct. We've travelled far to seek healing from the Holy Danu for our friends. Pray tell us... How may we seek an audience with Her? Is it true that we must pass three trials?"

"Oh yes. And without the aid of your tech-no-loggy as well. It is the will of the Holy Danu that if you wish to gain an audience with Her most Holiness, you must pass Her trials the same as any of her Chosen." The high priestess motioned towards a side room that had another of those furnaces where a white hot rod was already being prepped for the away team. Will you undertake the first of the trials for your group? Or will another?"

Schwein hesitated a moment before turning to walk with the high priestess towards the furnace room. "We uh... Do you have any advice for these trials? Being peoples of science, in this setting from what we've heard, your trials sound all but impossible for all but the Holy Danu herself."

The High Priestess chuckled softly as they headed into the furnace room, the white hot poker slowly rotating in the heat of the blast furnace focusing it's heat on it. "If you are pure of heart and mind, then you will have no trouble accepting the Holy Danu into your body. Thus you will be able to hold the rod as if it were as cold as a fish."

Schwein furrowed her brow in consternation and thought about it, eyeing that bright white glowing rod as the woman tending it and the High Priestess awaited an answer. Then a thought dawned on her. As far as she knew, every one of them was marked with some sort of bedevilment on their conscience except one. "Akira. I believe your childlike purity in this is our best hope for passing this ritual. You can do this, ja?"

"Me?" Akira replied, surprised that she was being singled out for this. She looked at the glowing hot rod, then down at her hands, and then it occurred to her that she was scared, terrified in fact; as she currently was, she was incapable of accessing some of her body's function, one of which was the ability to disable her pain receptors, and if she was not pure enough... And what if she became damaged, did she or Thex know enough about the Iconian technology in her body to make repairs? It was almost cold of her to think it, but it was merely her logical side pointing out that biologicals could get biosynthetic replacements and she was unique, and what if her hands could not be replaced?! No! No, she could not think like that, even if she were irreparably damaged, it would be a sacrifice well worth making to save the lives of the infected crew! She could do this, she would do this, but that decisiveness didn't make her any less nervous about the possibility of having the synthetic flesh burned off her frame.

"I will do this," Akira finally said, extending her trembling hands to accept rod, hoping beyond hope that her moment of doubt had not damned her.

The High Priestess nodded to the woman at the forge, who took the rod from the fires with her great tongs and carried it the distance to Akira, the extreme heat visibly radiating from the white hot glowing piece of iron. "Steel yourself, Akira, for this trial of the Holy Danu now begins."

With a wave of the High Priestess's hand, the glowing rod is placed into Akira's hand. A soft sizzling sound was heard for a moment. Then nothing. No burning flesh. The intense heat was still radiating off of it and everyone nearby was likely drenched in sweat from just being near it. But to Akira's touch, it was as cool as a glass of lemonade.

"The trial is complete!" Declared the High Priestess. With another wave of her hand, the blacksmith removed the iron from Akira's hand and placed back in the furnace. "Most that face this trial require the use of a pail. Do you desire one now, Akira?"

Akira was trembling as the blacksmith removed the hot iron from her hands, and so shaken to the core was she that she found herself unable to answer the Priestess; instead, her knees went weak and she found herself suddenly on her knees on the cold cobblestone floor, and her body, in rebellion of the torrent of emotions running through, evacuated the contents of her stomach, missing the offered pail entirely and very nearly hitting the Priestess' feet. Nearly.

"I'm sorry," Akira finally said with gasping breaths, even in her addled state she felt apologetic about the near offense to the Priestess. "I'm so sorry, I want to leave now!" she said as she began to sob. "I need to get out of here!" But even she could not tell at this point if by 'here' she meant the temple, the planet, or even her own body, over which she now seemed to have little control.

Mal lowered him self to Akira's level (the satyr equivalent of taking a knee) and held her as he spoke gently to her.

"It's alright," he said. "You're okay. We're all here with you. You're safe."

Having watched the test with serious (if intrigued) concern, Vaemyn looked from the ailing Akira to the Priestess, plainly quite uneasy himself. Every instinct in Vaemyn’s carefully programmed Vorta brain was screaming at him to leave, to run to safety, his brain generating the chemicals that elevated his natural fear response. Separating the physical and psychological fear was no easy feat, especially since Vaemyn was equally afraid for his crewmates’ well being as his own.

“I take it, then,” Vaemyn asked the Priestess nervously, “that the subsequent tests shall be a bit...um...more extreme? Maybe even...erm...lethal? Typically the first test is used to weed out false applicants, after all, before the tests get truly serious, yes?”

"We've never had anyone die from one, but we've only had one survive the other. Then again, the success of the second depends on the success of the first," replied the High Priestess. "If you like, there's a resting area that Akira may recover in. She will be treated well and be given sweetmeats and honeyed wine if she so desires. She passed this trial, so has proven the sincerity and purity of your group and that of your Captain. Shall I show the rest of you to the next trial?" As she spoke, two white robed women entered and offered to help Akira to her feet, offering her succor by the fountain.

Akira shook her head vehemently as she clung to Mal, not because she didn't want to go with the robed women to rest (which, in fact, she didn't want to do regardless) but because she didn't want Mal and the others to be subjected to more of what she had just been put through. "It's not fair!" she said, her voice still quivering from her earlier outburst of sobbing. "God or not, what gives Danu the right to treat people like this?!"

The High Priestess showed a flash of anger as she rounded on the group. "What gives you the right to travel a quarter of the way across the galaxy to bother the Holy Danu and her people to ask her for an audience? What right do you have to judge our way of life once you get here? The people don't know about travellers from distant worlds, but the priestesses here do, and we know of your non-interference policies. And yet here you are, pretending to follow our ways yet complaining about it. You even brought your technologies with you so they were disabled, just like your ship, for the duration of your stay to make sure you played by your own rules and ours. As for Danu, God or not, she's a being on a much higher order than any other around here and she makes the rules around here, like it or not. Is she not entitled to some measure of privacy? Some manner of dissuading people from committing crimes around her or pleading her case directly to her? If everyone in the galaxy came to her for healing or succor, she'd have no time to herself."

Pausing for a moment, the High Priestess composed herself. "Pardon me. If you will follow me, the trial of the crystal keys is this way. The trial of the leap of faith is immediately after." Turning and walking out of the room, she did not wait for their reply - rather she just headed towards the head of the smaller temple, where an altar stood with an array of around three dozen nearly identical palm sized crystals laying across it. Behind the altar was a pair of ornate double doors.

Mal wrapped his arms around Akira and held her for a moment and he stroked her hair and spoke softly to her.

"You're right," he said. "It's not fair, but if we want to help our friends, if you want to help Daytona, this is what we need to do. Our friends need us. Can I count on you Akira? We can't do this with out you."

Akira struggled to find her voice after the Priestess' chastisement, but finally she nodded to Mal. "Just please don't leave me here with them," she said softly. As polite as these people were, she didn't trust them, not one bit! After all, who blindly followed a 'god' who made their followers hold hot rods? It was disgusting, a perversion of everything that she had been taught was good!

"Of course," Mal said, rising and bringing Akira to her feet as he stood. "Come, let's go."

When they got to the crystal room Mal looked around.

"So," he said to the priestess. "The object is to find the key and use it to go through those doors over there?"

The High Priestess nodded and motioned to the crystals. "Choose however you like but only one may be selected. Also, for the last trial, you may select only one of you to make the trek across to try it if you so desire."

Mal nodded and turned to the others.

"Does anyone have a better plan for finding the right crystal than the doctor singing while accompany him until one of them reacts?" he said to the team.

The Baroness spoke up immediately. "Commander, I am piecing together a theory." Glancing over the crystals, she touched one of them and found it cold to her touch. "I surmised that there were two possibilities for passing the first trial. Either Akira's body could handle the heat even with the technology jamming, or that it required an innocence of mind. Fortunately both were fitting of Akira for this setting and having witnessed firsthand the results of that trial, I believe I must revise the manner of which this key reacts. Normally, I would say it will react based on some resonance with frequencies."

Schwein turned to the others for confirmation. "Zat iz ze most logical scientific method, ja? Yet the innocent face the prior trial and are not burned, ja?" This time the Baroness turned to the High Priestess for confirmation and as the Granwehnian woman nodded confidently, she pressed on with her theory. "These trials are somehow not of physics or logic... but of the heart and of faith. We must stop thinking logically and think with our hearts. Doctor... Commander... Sing and play from the depths of your souls."

Pausing a moment and squaring her shoulders, Schwein continued. "Then when you decide, I myself will take it to the main temple, with my Lord Odin as my witness."

"Alright then," Mal said. "Doctor, if you would begin, I will accompany you on my flute."

A song that would go well with a flute he searched his memory for something that would suit both this and the situation. He was reminded of something that he'd learned on a brief vacation to Ireland when he'd been in the academy- something about the 'hill of the fairies' and a smile stole across his face. Taking a breath, he began to sing to the keys...

"The winter now is here
And the year steals so swift away
Just like a thief in the night
Who comes but to flee
The berries are full bright
And the small birds sing out to me
Oh but the cold wind blows hard
Over Knocknashee

By summer’s radiant star
And by love’s own sweetest decree
None but the harsh moon
Could steal your beauty from me
Came autumn’s falling leaves
And love’s wild uncertainty
When, like a vision, you flitted
From Knocknashee

I turned from God
I spurned all religion
And somehow you came
Between heaven and me
Oh how glad I would trade my very soul
My dear Saviour never to see
For to gain you I’d lose
All eternity

But once when passion’s worn
Never more will it return
Love loses fashion
Like some old tired melody
The heart that gives too free
Will sorely rejected be
Oh how I loved you and lost you
In Knocknashee

And I will go down
Go down to the dark wood
And find that sweet hollow
Where once you lay with me
And I will face that final place
Where the heart will not weary be
And I will sleep the long sleep now
In Knocknashee"

At first nothing was happening, but as the Doctor sang, several of the crystals started glowing various colors. The longer he sang though, the fewer kept glowing and by the time he finished there was only one left glowing soft white. Schwein picked it up, surprised to find that it was now warm to the touch. Nodding to the High Priestess, she was led to the large doors behind the altar where two more priestesses rushed to unseal them.

As they swung open, a blast of cool sea air met them as the far main temple was revealed. The cliffs between were also of concern to most logic minded people, but this was a world not of logic, but of faith. Stepping up to the sheer hundred meter drop to the crags below, Schwein looked to the sky, flung off her robe and eyepatch, which was immediately caught by the wind and dragged into the crevasse, and called out to her God, key in hand. "Lord Odin! My life Evermore has been yours so if you see fit to accept me in your embrace at this moment, I will see you in Valhalla momentarily! Otherwise, please look upon the strength of your faithful servant!"

With that, she stepped off of the cliff without hesitation.

She did not fall.

Wind whipping about her, heart racing, her boot had made contact with solid air.

She took another step forward.

Praising Odin the whole way, she made her way across the hundred meters or so to the door of the main temple, inserted the key, and successfully unlocked the door, collapsing inside as the giant doors swung open.

Smiling to the rest of the group, the High Priestess bowed before them. "Thus concludes the trials. The Holy Danu will hear your petition. Shall we teleport the rest of you over to the other temple, or would you rather walk?"

"Teleport us please," Mal said, before anyone else decided to test fate by trying to walk on air.

The High Priestess nodded ass he motioned to a statue of Danu sitting off to the side of the double doors leading to the final trial. The away team then found themselves encompassed in a brief flash of golden light and reunited with the Baroness on the other side.

Inside the giant temple was a garden. Danu herself stood not far from them. For a celtic goddess, she wasn't a very imposing figure, dressed in plain brown robes and only standing around five feet tall. In fact, her brightly glowing green eyes were really the only sign that she was more than any other mortal they had run into so far.

"Well come, and welcome. A raven told me you'd be paying me a visit. I didn't expect you to do so well or to be so dedicated in your pursuit of me though." The old woman said as she stood there with her hands clasped before her. "You did well and I commend you on that. You have earned the right to ask for what you seek. But as you may have learned from the trials, there is always a price to everything. Are you prepared to pay that price? Is your Captain? Those infected with that Iconian doppelganger phage virus? You can barely even figure out what it is your people are infected with so how can you even know what my price for a cure will be?"

"But you're all weary from the trials and two of you are mentally exhausted, if not scarred." Danu motioned towards a sitting area not far into the gardens. "Will you have tea with me? We can discuss options at the very least and you can rest."

Mal led the Away Team to the sitting area.

"You are correct," Mal said. "In that we won't know your price or if we are willing to pay it...that is until you tell us the price. So, what will it cost us for you to cure our friends?"

Danu poured them all some tea that was already prepared at the sitting table before sitting at one of the chairs as she spoke. "You have quite a few infected members. Two of which will require further healing and an extended stay, but we can get to that in a moment." Sipping her own tea, she motioned for the away team to sit as well. "I can siphon the virus from them easily enough but I'll need a sacrificial vessel... A living being willing to risk their life and possibly give it up, if needs be, in order to do so. This concentration of the Iconian Doppelganger Phage virus will create a beast which you will need to fight and destroy. Thankfully, you already know how to kill beasts of this type so this should be no problem for you."

Most of your infected crew will thus be cured." Pausing, Danu sipped her tea. "The two sisters will require further healing to repair their minds, and will need to stay with me for a while. They will be free to leave at any time, but their minds are too far gone. I wouldn't feel right leaving their healing half done. Nexi's mind is shattered and Aewia's is partially made of the virus itself so I'll have to use other means and there will be other costs of which your crew are unable to tie yourselves to."

"How is it that you know so much about our infected crew?" Akira said with a hint of suspicion in her tone; she dismissed the offered tea with a slight wave of her hand, her stomach still churning uncomfortably from her earlier trial.

Schwein was weak in the knees, but took one of the offered seats and sipped at one of the teacups, finding the flavor pleasant and refreshing. Nodding her thanks, she cupped it with both hands and nursed it. By Odin's beard, that was one of the scariest things she'd ever done. Everything in her told her there was nothing below her but a hundred meters to death but she kept walking. She could only conclude that it was her faith in Odin that allowed her to do so and that if anyone else in the party had stepped off that cliff, they would be dead simply because they see these beings as powerful aliens. Schwein on the other hand, worshipped Odin as a God and could see him in no other way as that was how she was indoctrinated since birth.

"Odin sent a raven with what your Captain told him. I've also been watching your crew while you've been here." Danu sipped her tea again and waved her hand. "As soon as I have your answer, you may contact your ship."

"If the sacrifice is fighting the Iconian beast, and the 'sacrificial vessel' has to be one of the infected," Mal said. "I will do it. But, we will need to retrieve the special weapons from our ship before I fight this thing. Otherwise, I won't stand a chance. It is only by sheer luck that we haven't returned them to Hephaestus yet. That's next on our list of things to do, after you cure our infected friends."

"Then it seems your decision is made. As for the vessel, they don't have to be already infected. In fact, there's one of your crew that would fare far better than any other and would have a far better chance of survival. She's evolved from granite. You may contact your Captain when you like." Danu sipped at her tea a bit more as her eyes stopped glowing. At the same time, the dampening field around them and the ship faded away.

"Wait..." Mal said. "I think I'm being a little slow here. You want to infect a member of my crew, who I'm guessing is Ahreva Malana, one of our civilian scientists, and then you want me to kill her?"

Vaemyn took a step forward to stand next to the XO, deep concern in his eyes as he looked upon the Danu. “No, Commander, not quite. If I’m understanding our host correctly, she intends to siphon all of the black blood from the infected individuals into a single sacrificial host. Then she will do something to this host, some form of assault, to destroy all of the black blood in a single stroke. However, the concentration of so much black blood in one body will cause that person to have far more powerful abilities that we have witnessed with Miss Nexi. This sacrificial host, once infected, will defend themselves with some form of beast, which must be defeated before the black blood can be destroyed.”

Then Vaemyn’s tone grew quiet as he looked directly up at the Satyr. “This is an extreme method, Commander Xustos, but it is viable. And a species which has evolved from granite may be able to survive the destruction of the black blood.” Then the Vorta blinked, before chuckling ruefully. “Or we could create a hyper-powerful evil villain who could destroy the Hera and this entire world, before unleashing a horde of demonic monstrosities on the Milky Way, killing all in their path. This is also an possibility. An intruiging possibility, if it didn’t invite a galactic apocalypse.”

The Celtic goddess nodded to Vaemyn, impressed with his rational reasoning. Indeed this could unleash upon the universe something they were not yet ready to face if they did not defeat it quick enough. Danu wasn't about to tell them that though.

Akira paled at the thought of sacrificing anyone to the black blood, regardless of how sturdy that person may be. "W-would... Would my body be suitable for the sacrifice?" Akira asked timidly. "I-it has biological components, but no free will of its own, so perhaps the risk will not be as great?" She had just gotten this body and now that she had adjusted to some of the uncomfortable newness of it, she was finally starting to enjoy the gift of freedom it offered her, she didn't want to give this body up or risk her own well-being by stuffing herself into a tricorder until she could get back to the ship, but if it meant that no one got hurt, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make!

Danu shook her head. "Your body would be as suitable as a clay pot and just as sturdy. No, the vessel will have to be a fully biological life form. As for the one I mentioned, if she is willing, we may proceed with the procedure once you're ready. You'll need the infected, her, and several warriors to combat the beast once the initial procedure is complete. After that, I will discuss further healing with the two sisters and the price for that. Agreed?"

Mal looked at the priestess for a moment, then spoke.

"Fine," Mal said. "I will present your proposal to Doctor Malana, but I will not order her to do this. I couldn't even if I wanted to. She's a civilian. But first you'll need to tell me how I am supposed to fight her without killing her. The weapons Hephaestus gave us to fight the Master will leave her with wounds that cannot heal, if she even survives. On the other hand, normal weapons won't have any effect at all and I'll be killed before you can do anything. Fighting one of those things is an all or nothing arrangement. You either kill it, or it kills you. If one of us hesitates, the other is dead, period. So, before we proceed, I need to know how long it's going to take you to do whatever it is you're going to do."

"I didn't ask you to fight the vessel." Danu stated simply, not understanding why someone would attack the vessel rather than the summoned beast that the vessel would create. "I asked you to fight the summoned beast. I'll keep the vessel in stasis once the beast is summoned but you'll have to defeat the beast yourself."

Read stepped forward next to Mal. "Commander. You are a senior officer. I cannot let you endanger yourself. I should fight the beast. Besides, if something happened to you, both T'Pral and Commander Clio would kill me."

"On the other hand, " Mal said. "I've been training with edged weapons since I was a child, so I have a pretty good chance at surviving this fight. I'll make you a deal, Mister Read. Can you handle a spear? Hephaestus gave us two weapons, a spear and a sword. I'm partial to the sword. If you can handle a spear in close quarters without getting yourself killed, and without killing me, you can help me beat this thing. Oh, and in addition to not killing me, you can't wound me, not even a nick or a scrape. As I said, wounds inflicted with these weapons will not heal."

"I'm not an expert sir, but I am proficient," Read replied, though he would be more of a distraction to the beast to let the Commander survive. 'Should have been an engieer. These scenarios never end well for security officers,' Read thought

"When we contact the ship," Mal said. "Along with the weapons from Hephaestus, have them beam down some body armor for you, the heavy duty stuff we break out for extreme situations. It won't hold up long against the beast, but it will buy you a few moments. I've already got something under my robes that should slow the beast down...wait...that didn't sound right...I mean I'm wearing a kind of light armor under my robes."

Read chuckled. "Aye, Commander."

Mal activated his comm unit.

"Xustos to Hera," he said. "Please respond."

"This is the Hera. What's your status?" replied the stressed voice of Captain Telvan.

"We have made contact with Danu," Mal said. "Please beam down the infected, as well as Miss Ahreva Malana. If she's willing, I need her to do something ridiculously dangerous in order to cure our friends."

"We'd love to, but we've lost power to the entire ship." Enalia replied, seemingly distracted. "We're getting things back online now, but those infected are running rampant. It'll take us some time before we can beam anyone anywhere."

Mal turned to Danu.

"Madam," he said. "Do you think you could round up our infected crewmembers and bring them down here securely, and grab Miss Malana while you're at it. It seems like a reasonable thing to ask, since you are likely the reason the Hera is disabled. No offense intended."

Danu scowled for a moment before replying. "This is no small thing you ask... But what kind of Goddess would I be if I couldn't do it?" Standing, she headed deeper into her gardens towards a well hidden door. Through it was a control center of sorts and from there, she was able to target the infected and isolate them. She then called out to them so they could hear her. "I'll transport them directly to a stasis unit at my cauldron. As for Miss Malana, I'll bring her here." Within a few moments, the deed was done and she was monitoring some sort of power station.

Returning to the others, Danu had a worried look on her face. "This is unexpected and troubling. The one known as the Master is among the infected. Because of this, I can only hold them in stasis for a short time before you must face the beast. Please prepare yourselves."

As for Malana, she looked barely put off by being in a different place, a science tricorder in hand. "I see I am no longer scanning isolytic samples in my quarters." She then clipped her tricorder to her belt and awaited an explanation for her sudden unexplained relocation.

"Just a moment," Mal said as he saw that Danu had helpfully also brought down the weapons Hephaestus had given them. Mal picked them up and carefully handed the spear to Read. "Remember, keep the pointy end away from both of us and direct it at the monster."

Mal turned back to Malana.

"Alright," Mal said. "I am about to ask you to do something tremendously stupid and dangerous and you should probably say no. Any intelligent person would say no. However, for the sake of our infected crewmates, I have to ask. Danu wants to suck all of the black blood from the infected and put the disgusting stuff into you, at which point you will summon a demon that Read and I will then kill...hopefully, which will apparently cure the infected...or something like that. And apparently it's possible that you'll survive this. If not, I'll make sure you get a hero's funeral. What do you say? Are you willing to take one for the team?"

"Fascinating." Malana thought it over for a moment before giving her answer. "As you say, any intelligent person would say no. However, I'm not just any intelligent person. I seek new experiences and this seems like one not to pass up. I accept. What do I need to do to prepare?"

"Just be yourself," Danu replied, with a smile and a nod. "I believe you have the mental and physical fortitude already."

"Alright then," Mal said. "Let's do this."

Popping out of warp, the USS Hera started scanning the Granweh system, her stealth plating still in effect. There was no telling how Danu would react to having a starship suddenly appear in her sky so they were trying to play it safe.

"Helm, high polar orbit. Signal the away team as soon as we find a suitable insertion point." Enalia checked her personal console briefly as the bridge personnel busied themselves.

Gonadie nodded and moved the ship into a high polar orbit, the stealth plating still on and the polar magnetics now adding to the disguise. "Now in orbit."

Next was the report of the Ensign at operations. "Captain, I've found a suitable insertion point for the away team close to what I believe is Danu's main temple. At least I assume it's her main temple - the energy readings are insane. If my passive initial scans are correct, that one temple can put out more than all of Earth's power grid."

"I'd expect no less of one of the eldest of the gods," replied Enalia, grinning as she checked her own readouts built into her chair. "Signal the away team that they may beam down when ready."

"Aye, Captain. Away team is beaming now." The ops ensign tapped a few keys as an alert went off at their station. "Captain... I'm detecting... Incoming!"

Before the Ensign could get anything else out, a bright green flash of light enveloped the ship and dimmed, leaving behind darkness as the customary sounds of the warp core and the backup fusion power plants faded to nothing.

"Report!" ordered Enalia as she leaped out of her now dead captain's chair and headed to the nearest engineering console, which also seemed to be dead.

The ops ensign replied. "It looked like some sort of dampening wave. The backup batteries are shielded but the magnitude was immense so I'm not sure if even they..."

Suddenly a few emergency panels flickered to life weakly as the backup batteries kicked in.

"It seems they did." Checking their systems, the young ensign sighed with relief. "Life support is ok. Batteries are at ninety seven percent. Emergency comm relays are online. Everything else is offline and the dampening field seems to still be in effect."

"So we can breathe and talk to anyone in the ship but that's about it. I guess our trials have begun." Enalia tapped her comm badge. "Telvan to sh'Zoarhi. We've been hit with a dampening field by our host. What's your status? Tell me you can cut through it and get the warp reactor running."

" Working on it captain. The ships surrounded by a field which his stopping a warp field from being formed. I have the emergency backup power cells heading for the life support system whilst we try and find a way around this. " The andorian replied as she hurried around the now dark engine room.

"Our backup fusion reactors are also offline so do what you have to to get us power. Keep us informed of any progress." Enalia turned to Clio. "Commander Eneas, sensors are down. I need people looking out windows with tricorders or something to make sure we're not falling into the planet or that something isn't about to blow us up or a space whale isn't going to start humping us."

"You got it." With the ship on emergency power, the 'paging' system was down, so there was no hope of alerting people quietly. Clio knew her voice wasn't the most calming or reassuring, but the Hera had been through so many crazy happenings that the crew wasn't likely to be phased anyhow. Putting some words together, she activated the emergency shipwide comms. "Attention all hands. By now you will have noticed that the Hera is running on emergency power only. Our sensor network is down, but internal communications are working. If you are on a deck with windows to the outside, please take a working tricorder to one of those windows and keep an eye out for danger. If you do not have or are unable to procure a tricorder, keep an eye out anyway. Report any unusual findings or possible hazards to the bridge immediately."

Enalia nodded as she stalked the bridge like a caged beast for a few moments. "All our technology and she strips it away like so much fodder... We need to contact medical. Telvan to... Lieutenant Ulfred. What's the status of our black blood patients?"

"All stable in their current conditions so far." Marci's voice seemed unnaturally bright given the situation. "Aewia's shadow cat was here earlier, but it left when I handed it a snack she likes. Speaking of which.... Commanders Eneas and Jordan are there with you. Neither of them has produced a shadow critter yet, but stress tends to bring them out. Keep an eye out."

"Actually, Commander Jordan was recently confined to quarters just before our arrival. Can you spare someone to check on her?" Enalia just had a sinking feeling in her gut telling her that they likely had another of the black blood beasts running around and it wasn't a good feeling. "Have security join you with whatever passes for weapons right now, just in case."

" This is Thex I could check on her. I need to get some readings from the auxiliary resonance index so i can drop by on my way there." Came the andorians voice from over the combadge.

There were a few words the universal translator did not render, swearing in Marci's native tongue. "Thank you, Thex," she said after a moment, her voice a bit more tight but still somewhat cheerful. "Take a security team with you, please."

Things were happening and reports were coming in slowly, but at least progress was being made. The ship wasn't visibly falling towards the planet, but there was seemingly nothing they could do to correct their situation for now. Minutes passed by slowly as Enalia paced the bridge like a trapped ninka.

"Captain, I think I've got something!" Called one of the junior engineers that were on the bridge when power went out. Suddenly the consoles across the bridge lit back up and the viewscreen flickered to life. "I've restored the bridge module's emergency reactor. We have minimal sensors, bridge computer is coming online, and systems shielding is engaged."

"Great work!" Heading to the helm, Enalia punched up the bridge navigational sensors. They weren't much, but they were enough to confirm they were indeed in a stable enough orbit with a few quick calculations in her head. "Ok, let's see if we can get some more ship system reports."

A few more long minutes passed before a few more ship systems started coming online and a few reports came trickling in. The rest of the ship was still offline, but with the bridge module at least running, they could at least monitor the rest of the ship's powerlessness.

"Captain..." came the uneasy call from the operations console by the ensign there. "I'm picking up excessive black blood readings across the ship. In the jeffries tubes near engineering, sickbay... and below decks... waste reclamation. Captain, I think those infected are losing control, summoning beasts, and attacking people. I have a report of several dead crew in..." Pausing a moment, he tapped his console a few more times. "Confirmed. Eight dead crew so far between the three locations."

Enalia's heart sank as the reports came in. She had hoped that they could hold out long enough to get help, but unfortunately that didn't seem to be the case. They were eating her crew and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Captain, the dampening field has been lifted. Systems are coming back online." reported the Ops Ensign. Suddenly, the comms flared to life and there was a familiar voice.

"Xustos to Hera," he said. "Please respond."

"This is the Hera. What's your status?" replied the stressed voice of Captain Telvan.

"We have made contact with Danu," Mal said. "Please beam down the infected, as well as Miss Ahreva Malana. If she's willing, I need her to do something ridiculously dangerous in order to cure our friends."

"We'd love to, but we've lost power to the entire ship." Enalia replied, seemingly distracted. "We're getting things back online now, but those infected are running rampant. It'll take us some time before we can beam anyone anywhere."

The bridge crew listened in on the conversation between Danu and Mal for a few more moments before Enalia had the comm channel closed. "Captain, the infected are no longer aboard. I'm reading no signs of black blood anywhere on the ship."

"Well, that's one problem solved, I guess..." Enalia muttered as she checked the status readout on her command chair. "Maintain status on the away team and get status updates across the ship. I want head counts as well."

"Aye, Captain," replied the young Ensign as he busied himself with the work.

Aewia had been biding her time, communing with her panther in her quarters, remembering all the memories that had been implanted in her. All the old memories she'd had returned to her. She had so many of the Master's old memories. Nowhere near all of them, mind you, but enough of them to be reborn if he were to be defeated. He'd been killed a few times over the years.

She remembered those times.

She had been chosen.

Thus she had pretended to be the good little Aewia that everyone knew and loved. And she planned and she waited. They were going to cure them, they said. She wasn't going to let that happen. When they arrived at Danu's planet, she was going to put her plan into motion.

She would be the Master.

As the starfield outside her windows reverted to normal, she knew it wouldn't be long. A few minutes dragged by and she had her signal. The power went out. Her eyes glowed red, as did her panther's. It was time. The chaos in the others was ripe as well and they had already started their own tasks.

She could feel it because she was the Master now.

Standing, she stepped into the darkness.

Her first stop was to waste reclamation. There was a specimen there that she desired. Pointing, she sent her panther after two of the crew. As it made a meal of them, she silently headed for the third. The Rigelian. She needed his blood.

As he looked up at the sudden noises of her cat eating his friends, he saw Aewia's gaping face hole spreading wider than biologically possible with pointy razor sharp teeth hovering over him for a moment before snapping closed over his neck like a bear trap. As she drained him of his blood, her hair moved as if it had a life of its own, waving in the air and turning a blood red.

She was the Master now.

Finished drinking, she threw her head back, the blood still dripping down her chin, a satisfied sigh on her blood soaked lips. Scritching her panther's head tenderly, she grinned wickedly. This is what she had been craving. This is what she had been born for.

Again, she stepped into the darkness, this time revealing herself to a pair of engineers in an access junction near engineering. While her panther took down the Tellarite, Aewia sank her multitudinous fangs into the full blooded Vulcan without letting them so much as gasp for breath before she was draining them.

By this point, she could feel the blood filling her, coursing through her, changing her. It was making her stronger.

As she finished, she threw her head back, her hair having grown almost as long as her body by now. She took a moment to revel in the delightful feelings she was having as the blood coursed through her veins.

She was the Master now.

Tilting her head, she listened to the voices of the others with her blood. They were about done with their goals as well. If they didn't get away from here soon, their ancient enemy would catch them. She would not allow that to happen. Stepping into the darkness again, she came out this time near sickbay.

This time there was only one. Her panther watched as she sank her demonic teeth into the ship's chef. Everyone thought she was Vulcanoid Rigelian, but there was no fooling the Master's keen senses. Her blood was Romulan. As she drank deeply of the woman's blood, she could feel herself becoming more complete. She was becoming whole again.

She was now the Master Reborn.

Finishing her meal, she stood, her clothes flowing around her and being replaced with a more elegant and feminine version of the last thing that the Master wore on a regular basis. Her face had even shifted to resemble a cross between the Master and Aewia.

Grinning, she looked down at her panther. She was ready. Now she just needed a working ship.

Officer's country was pretty much deserted around this hour, and the lights were dimmed since the ship was on emergency power. But the odd couple pair of officers were still making their way through the mostly deserted corridors on the way home from an aborted meal in the officer's mess. Waxing sentimental, as they strode along, Paris regaled her new friend with tales of her old commander.

"The man was an engineer, y'see. He led a mutiny against a mad captain, limped the ship home and got himself a promotion which led to a command. So every time, EVERY time we had a countdown to launch, to get to the Starbase, to get to the mission, he says 'How long til we launch?' and I'd say, 'Well, 24 hours if we pull the plug on the countdown now, sir' and of course he says, every time mind you, 'Let's launch in eight hours!' Every. Damned. Time."

"He was an engineer, y'see? So to him, turning it in earlier than expected was how to impress your boss. So, so much protocol we had to rush and fudge. And all because he loved being fast-" Paris trailed off as she heard a deep, primal growl in the distance.

Quietly she held out a hand to catch Thex's attention and moved to a doorway to whisper to her shipmate. "Is that a sound we're supposed to be hearing, another exotic crewman who's also the CMO or something, and they're just out for a stroll?"

" No." Came Thex's answer as she went for her phaser. Switching it to heavy stun she began scanning the dark with her torch. =^= Thex to security where are you? =^= She whispered into her badge the panic rising in her voice. Nothing came back. The field was now messing with the comms.

" Rita. The nearest Jeffries tube is that way move towards it slowly. " Thex said jabbing her head down the corridor to the left.

T'Pral glanced at her pet as it let out a growl--it was a predatory growl, one that she sensed that the creature had caught sense of something else--a prey. T'Pral let a smile form. Inwardly, she seemed to lose more and more control against the blackness--her thoughts filling with dark, violent thoughts. Her vulcan hearing soon picked up rapid breathing. Prey indeed, and it was just around the corner. "What is it?" she asked the Sehlat who only growled again in response, keeping it's attention straight ahead and it lowered it's body, it's massive legs, bending slightly as it's muscles primed to pounce as soon as it caught sight of the prey it sensed.

A Jeffries tube. Some things never changed, and for good reason. Leave it to the engineer to remember the access ladders Stepping forward to the appropriate hatch- which pretty much looked like most of the doorways on the ship- Rita stepped up to it, watching it open by sensor. Another growl sounded down the corridor, and it might have been closer- it was hard to tell.

"Computer," Paris hissed out, "Seal this hatch behind myself and Lieutenant Thex."

=^=Acknowledged,=^= the computer replied at a normal level as Paris winced.

T'Pral stopped at hearing the computer respond to a command. She then picked up her steps, rounding the corner and not seeing anyone. The Sehlat paused as it sniffed the air and then down to the deck and let out a growl as it made it's way to a nearby corridor hatch.

"Good Kitty," T'Pral said as her hand petted the massive feline's head. Sehlats were excellent stalkers in the wild and this one seemed no different. She pressed the button to open the door but to no avail. "Computer, release lock on this hatch. Authorization T'Pral Zeta-Alpha-One."

The doors released and opened on command. She could hear climbing in the tube. "It is illogical to run. You will only die tired," T'Pral called with a grin as she entered.

"So I think you mentioned some black blood that causes shadow creatures to appear, and is slowly turning our fellow ship mates into things?" Paris asked as they climbed, making unsafe haste in her efforts to escape their pursuit. "Who's that chasing us?"

" Judging by the voice I think it's T'Pral, our chief of security. " Thex said as she looked over her shoulder as they crawled through the tubes.

"Oh great, a possessed Vulcan with a pet giant alien cat who's also the most dangerous person on board?" Rita muttered, trying to climb faster. Threx was already at the hatch three decks up while Rita was lagging behind.

" Hey, T'Pral. Don't listen to the voice in your head! You're sick and you need help. The away team will be back soon with the cure, " Thex yelled back, hoping something of the hybrid was still in her head.

T'Pral looked at the Sehlat as it looked up. Climbing ladders wasn't the Sehlat's greatest skill set. Yet, it was as if the feline could read T'Pral's thoughts as it clumbsily used it's claws to slowly make it's way up the ladder after T'Pral who moved at a faster pace. At hearing Thex's voice, she paused and grinned. "Sick? Actually, Thex, I've never felt better. Any wager as to how long it is before I catch up with you?" T'Pral began to climb again.

" I know these tubes better than anyone T'Pral. I could hide in here for years and you'd never catch me. Besides your cats, not the best climber isn't it. " the Andorian yelled back as she pulled a panel off the wall. She gestured for Rita to move forwards as she began messing with the controls. Her hands began messing with the controls hoping this would work.

We need a plan we need a plan we need a plan, the blonde bombardier thought as she scrambled to get clear of the sec ops chief and her- Sehlat. It was a beast, native to Vulcan. Sehlats had six-inch fangs and did not like to climb. Paris paused on the ladder as the information popped up in her mind, then she made haste to scramble through the access the ship's chief engineer had indicated.

"Do you still keep an armory on the Bridge in the future?"

" Nearest armoury is on deck 3- it should have opened up when the power went out. " The andorian yelled back as she wedged one of the hatches closed with a tool. It wouldn't hold for long, but every second was helping.

T'Pral raised an eyebrow at Thex's words. She may have knowledge of the the corridors, but she now knew their destination from the loud talking done by the two women which only echoed in the jeffries tube. "Let's see how smart the mice are in the maze," T'Pral said, continuing her climb. "Computer, erect security fields at jeffries tubes Sections 4-Beta, 3-Alpha and 4-Delta."

The sehlat below her continued to struggle as it climbed, letting out frustrated growls and sighs.

Thex groaned to herself as she heard the fields switch on. She was hoping the neutralizer fields would be preventing them from coming on, but no such luck. As they turned the corridor to the section of pipe, she paused, pulling a tool from her belt and handing it to Rita. " It's an emergency fire suppressant foam. Spray it to try and fill the tube- it should slow her down. I need to get a panel off, " the adorian said, already pulling the tool from her belt and beginning to pry the panel from the deck.

"Great, they have forcefields inside the ships now, that's new. So of course the comms are jammed, but the computer still listens to the security chief," Paris grumbled as she scanned the area for a resource, an edge. There was nothing of sufficient size and mass for her to use as a weapon to try to slow down the Vulcan climbing the tube- Rita knew firsthand just how much punishment a Vulcan could take and shrug off. Being merely an athletic human being, without something sufficiently large and heavy she really wasn't going to stand a chance in a hand-to-hand confrontation with a highly-trained unarmed combatant from a high gravity world.

At least, not in a fair fight.

Stepping between Thex and the access from the Jeffries tube, the well-traveled woman aimed the fire suppression foam dispenser at the access and waited to see the whites of someone's eyes. Someone with pointy ears and homicide on their mind. If it might slow her down as a barrier, it'd probably be even less welcome in her face and breathing parts.

In a feat that would make her tutors at the academy proud, Thex pulled the panel from the floor. Underneath the panel lay one of the auxiliary plasma tubes. It was too small for an escape through, being barely big enough for the smallest crew member. Still, they didn't have much choice. " Rita, I'm going to try something incredibly dangerous and stupid. If this works I can get out over on the other side of the forcefield and shut it down by cutting it's power. " the andorian yelled as she burned a hole through the tube using the plasma cutter.

The tubes covering fell with a clang as the blue girl stared at the small tube. This was going to hurt. She slid her legs into the cylinder her knees scraping across the surface. She could feel her uniform ripping and her skin peeling as she forced herself down the cylinder. She'd have screamed if she didn't have the plasma cutter held in her teeth. She could feel the vibrations of the forcefield as she squeezed her way down. Only when the vibrations stopped did she begin cutting her way out.

T'Pral grinned as she gained on the two. "Now, let's have some fun," she said as she reached their level.

"I haven't learned yet, is this fun in the future?" Paris asked as she depressed the button on the tool from Thex's belt and unleashed the hardening fire retardant foam at the head and shoulders of the security chief, hoping to freeze her to the hatch entry.

T'Pral nearly fell back down the shaft at the foam being sprayed at her. The foam was sticky and expanded rapidly and in mere seconds, it had encompassed her head and shoulders. Breathing was more difficult but not impossible. Her sight was blurred as she began to pull bits of the foam off of her. "That...wasn't...nice," she said as her voice filled with rage through labored breathing.

"I know, I'm not doing my reputation any good at all," the anachronistic astronaut quipped, adding a good strong placekick upside the possessed security chief's head, which didn't seem to phase her in the least. "Say Thex, no hurry but how's that plan coming...?"

Sweat was pouring down the andorian's face as she cut her way out of the tube. She could feel blood was on her legs due to scraping the skin from her knees, but she was too busy concentrating to notice. The plasma cutter wasn't supposed to be used in closed confinement, and she was having trouble breathing as it ate all the local oxygen. As the torch neared a complete circle, she smashed upward, causing the tube and the panel to buckle upwards. Despite the pain now flooding her hands, she kept hitting the metal that bit by bit, and it began to move. Adrenaline flooded her veins as with one final blast of strength the panel and tube burst upwards just enough to allow her to crawl out.

Gasping for air, Thex pulled herself out of the tube, looking like a creature out of an old earth horror movie. Despite the pain across her body she still focused pulling the panel of the nearest power conductor and began messing with the electronics. " Rita, prepare to move faster than you've ever moved. " She yelled as her bloody, sweat covered fingers worked as fast as they could.

Glancing back and forth between the angry Vulcan who was going to spend forever getting that foam out of her hair and her friend who was now bloodied and ragged from trying to help her escape, Rita Paris balanced her vigilance with preparedness. She could take care of Thex once they got through this, but the little engineer had gotten herself bloodied and bruised trying to save them both, and damned if she was going to let that sacrifice be in vain. Watching the alarmingly strong Vulcan tear her way free of the foam she suspected could seal a hull breach Rita looked for another opening to give a good kick in an effort to slow the woman down a little.

"Do your thing, just say the word, Thex..." Rita called over her shoulder as she landed another blow that would stun a human, but only seemed to be serving to irritate the sec/ops chief.

"When I get free, I am going to teach you the meaning of pain," T'Pral replied bitterly. "As I slowly break every bone in your pathetic body!" She was now able to breathe better, allowing her to work faster at pulling the foam away. Her anger seemed to only fuel the black blood in her. Inwardly, all T'Pral could do was watch, similar to a movie as the black blood took hold.

Thex grinned as the familiar noise filled her ears as an alarm sounded in the tube. The forcefield began to crackle as it's power began to fade. With a flash, it crackled and faded as the alarm blared even louder. " Run. " the andorian yelled through her croaky voice as she began to move to the tube that would allow them to move up a level.

While many things had changed in the century Rita Paris had missed, running away from trouble that you didn’t have the tools or resources to deal with in the moment was still a constant of the universe. Bolting for the opening indicated, the curvaceous commander ducked her arm under the arm of her brave little friend, wrapping her arm around the Andorian’s back to support her and hustling them both up the tube. “No engineer left behind, Thex,” Paris grunted as she supported her shipmate.

Thex grinned as the two limped towards the way to safety. She could hear the sehlat round the corner as it hurled towards them. Just as they reached the entrance a large blast shield rose behind them. " Emergency blast shield. I fooled the sensors into believing a plasma breach was going to flood the tube. It will take a while for the computer to figure out it's sensors are wrong and correct it so lets keep moving. " Thex explained weakly as she indicated for them to climb.

“You make the spirit of the Starfleet engineers who preceded you proud, Lieutenant,” The blonde bombardier reassured her injured friend as she half-carried, half dragged the Andorian up the tube toward the bridge, which she had determined as their ultimate destination. “Can the security chief override the lock or does she have to go around?”

" It will open eventually when the computer realises there's no breach, but it will take so long she'll have to go the long way around. " Thex said weakly as her bright blue blood dripped from her skined knees. " As soon as we get to the bridge we need to let security know. We have to try and trap her in the Jeffries tubes. "

“After we stop you from bleeding out, sure,” the pretty pilot grunted as she hauled her fortunately lightweight companion up the Jeffries tube. “And I might just have to put in for a commendation for original thinking for you.”

Bracing the smaller engineer between herself and the ladder, Rita Paris strained to open the bridge hatch. As electronics failed, the hatches could still be opened manually. That didn’t mean it was easy nor was she in the best position to do so. But the security chief might just be already changing course to continue her pursuit of the fleeing pair of officers, so this wasn’t going to be the day the determined dame decided to admit defeat. Pulling and straining, slowly the hatch wheel turned and unlocked.

“I can’t do this alone Thex. I can’t hold onto the gangway and you and push the hatch, so one more push, Lieutenant. We can.. do... it...!” Paris strained to do it herself, because even if Thex had lost too much blood to help, they were getting through this hatch.

T'Pral, fueled by hate and anger sprinted down the corridor with the Sehlat just ahead of her. "Track and kill the andorian, but leave the human for me," she commanded. Being a part of her, the Sehlat understood and took off in a full sprint, letting out a growl as it's eyes seemed to glow more yellow in anticipation of a kill.

Thex was feeling incredibly weak. Due to her andorian biology, her blood was refusing to clot as she did her best to look at the human. Nodding, she reached up feeling the human boost her up as her fingers gripped the edge. Using every bit of her adrenaline-boosted strength, she grabbed the edge and pushed with all her might. She felt her the hatch move, then her body rose to follow it and with a thud, her body felt something solid beneath her. " I need a drink," Thex said meekly as she felt the cold floor on her face. Even still she did her best to pull herself up.

Below her, Rita got under the petite Andorian's armpits, then boosted her up onto her shoulder, bracing herself so that Thex could have leverage to move the heavy hatch. Andorian strength won out where human strength failed, and with the hatch open Rita climbed a bit to get the bloody Andorian spilled out onto the deck. Pausing to pant a bit, Paris patted the leg of the Andorian engineer. "C'mon Thex, you can't die on me yet. You're the only friend I've got on this ship, and you just saved my life back there. Hang on a little longer and we'll get you patched up."

Rising, Thex leaned against the wall as she slowly moved along the corridor of the ship. She knew the nearest armory wasn't far off and within it was a first aid kit. "S&$T" She yelled as she stumbled causing pain to flood through her legs. Why had her species been cursed with a low blood clotting levels? " If we bump into the andorian gods in this adventure, remind me to kick them all very hard in bits that they will remember." She hissed weakly at Rita tears in her face due to the pain.

Sealing the hatch behind them, Rita hustled to get under the smaller woman to support her. The time-tossed temptress was reasonably certain that she could just carry the engineer if need be, but Thex was still stubbornly locomoting, and Paris respected that. So support it was for now. "You just give directions, blue, and I'll get us there. I actually thought we'd made it to deck one, but guess not. Hopefully we'll beat the pointy-eared devil on our tails to that armory assuming she didn't double back and take another route that was faster and beat us here. "

T'Pral rounded the corner with the Sehlat. "Did you summon me?" T'Pral said with a wicked grin. "Now, do I make you watch as my friend here eats Thex here alive?"

Maybe it was Thex's brain suffering from a lack of oxygen due to blood loss, but without even thinking the Hera's chief of engineering did something that would go down in Starfleet history as an incredibly stupid idea. Both of her hands shot up both middle fingers aimed at the shadow cat as she flipped it the bird. " Bring it on pussie, I've seen and killed bigger plasma lice." She hissed out definitely, though who she was talking to the security chief or the cat is an answer lost to history.

"Wait wait wait waitaminnit now," Paris stalled as she shifted the load of the defiant Andorian onto her back so that the ace airman could stand between the engineer and mortal peril while still keeping her bleeding friend standing. The bright gold uniform was smeared with blue blood. Rita gulped back at the sight, then held her hands out toward the security chief.

"Okay, look, if your big shaggy wow those are big teeth- yeah, your sehlat there is going to eat my friend then it's going to happen over my dead body. Which you do look pretty mad about that chemical foam... sorry not sorry," Paris stalled as she edged forward, hands out before her in near surrender as the soundtrack took on a tense tone. You're a Vulcan, even as a sec ops chief, I'll bet you're still a contact telepath, which means if I can make contact you and I can have a little chit-chat and we can team up against this thing possessing you. Or it'll get me too and I'm dooming us all.

"I think I can help you get some of that out of your hair if you want, before you kill me...?"

"There is nothing possessing me. I am as powerful and free than I have ever felt," T'Pral said. "Now, stop stalling and let my kitty feast before I have fun causing you alot of pain before your own death," she sneered.

"Commander! Stop!" came a familiar voice from behind in the tall feline figure of R'Tor and an Orion female, Shavni next to him.

"Now, things are interesting!" T'Pral said with a grin as the Sehlat leapt at R'Tor, who fired a phaser which seemed to not phase the shadow creature. R'Tor rolled to the deck, struggling with the creature. Shavni recalled T'Pral's security report that the shadow creatures were the possessed person's protector and had to be defeated first before you could harm the possessed person. She aimed her phaser but without warning felt the breath leave her as her body was slammed against the bulkhead by T'Pral with her hand around Shavni's throat as if she was a rag doll.

The logical plan was to retreat to the armory, render first aid then return armed to affect the situation. But the green-skinned security officer was a shipmate who had come to their aid, and you didn't abandon a shipmate to a mad Vulcan.

So much for the contact telepathy plan, Paris admitted as she stepped into the commander, slamming her fist between the second and third rib as her left hand held Threx in place on her back. It wasn't the most powerful of blows, but there was a very tender organ in that location in Vulcan physiology.

Thex was weak and groggy, but she could still tell what was going on. Her hands slowly undid the clasp of a pointed one used for sealing microfractures on the warp core which she grasped in her weak hands. As Rita's grip off her failed the anodrian mostly fell onto the shadow cat which became suddenly confused as to what had fallen onto to it as it turned it attention away from the Caitian. Before it knew anything it let out a demonic cry of pain as the tool slammed with the last of the andorians strength stabbed behind its eye. It bucked hard sending the andorian flying and slamming across the room from which she went limp and was silent on the floor as the shadow beast screamed as it tried to remove the tool buried deep behind it's eye.

T'Pral's head snapped in the direction of her screaming pet as she dropped Shavni due to Rita's blow, who fell to the deck, coughing. R'Tor managed to get up--other than some scratches, he was alright as he drew his phaser.

T'Pral stepped to her pet to try remove the tool but was knocked back by R'Tor's phaser that caused the beast to vanish. "I'll make you into a rug!" She leapt at R'Tor, who side stepped the attack but was dropped to the deck nearly instantly as T'Pral's leg snapped out to the side of R'Tor's knee, causing him to cry out in pain. She delivered another fierce blow to the side of his head, causing him to fall unconscious just as Shavni jumped T'Pral from behind, instantly getting her into a choke hold.

"Well, if everybody's kung-fu fighting," Paris snarled as she whipped her booted leg around in a broad roundhouse kick, the long-legged lieutenant using what mother nature gave her. The black boot spun the Vulcan's head about, then T'Pral snarled back at the curvy cosmonaut. Seeing that the possessed security chief was not only still awake but still quite willing to fight, Paris stepped in to drive a knee into the grappled Vulcan's midsection, only to be blocked by the chief, who was still fighting despite the shade of green her face was turning from that choke hold. A few quick punches to the face proved fruitless, though it did bring Paris in close enough to get punched in the face herself even as Shavni stubbornly held that choke hold.

"I'm an idiot," Paris muttered as she took three steps, picked up R'Tol's dropped phaser, pointed it at the security chief and... nothing happened. "It's gotta be one of these buttons," Paris muttered as she tapped the phaser. Then a beam lanced out, hitting no one in particular. As the enraged security chief came at her, Rita Paris pointed the phaser with some degree of authority and fired.

Face pulled away, eyes shut, Paris slowly opened first one eye then the other, finding the security chief on the ground, the brave Ensign Shavni lying atop her trying to catch her breath. Checking her, Paris was relieved that the emerald officer was battered and bruised, but she would live.

"Thex!" Rita remembered, and she rushed to her friend's side. For a skinny Andorian girl there was a lot of blood on the deck. Feeling for a pulse, it was still there- thready and weak, but the stubborn little woman was still clinging to life.

"Ensign! Get the nearest first aid kit and let's get these two stabilized. Then we can see about getting them to sickbay. That's an order!" Paris barked in her voice of command. They might not recognize the uniform, but an officer was an officer in any time period, and so was an order. As Shavni double-timed it to find the medkit, Paris took her friend's calloused hand in her own, slick with cerulean blood.

"C'mon Thex, you gotta hang in there a little longer. We're a team, you and me- the blue and the gold, the brave and the bold. You're the only friend I've got here... please don't die," Paris fairly choked out as Shavni returned with the medkit.

As they worked to stabilize their mortally injured shipmates, Shavni opined quietly, "She's not the only friend you've got on this boat, ma'am."

When the frosted transparent aluminum doors of sickbay opened, no one expected the tableau that awaited them. A sweaty lieutenant commander from the era of Kirk and the Enterprise stumbling in, her arms full of a very bloodied and bandaged Andorian. Behind her an Orion officer half-dragged, half-carried a Caitan in petty officer's chevrons who was barely conscious and dragging a very obviously broken leg awkwardly behind him.

"Little help..." the walking anachronism croaked, carrying her comrade to a biobed, only to set her down none too gently, splaying across the unconscious form herself. The gold velour uniform was smeared and spattered with blue blood, and darkened by long bands of soaked-in perspiration. The old officer pushed herself upright and worked to steady herself enough to go lend aid to the two security officers limping in.

Shavni, with Rita's help set R'Tor on a nearby bio bed. "Thank you, ma'am."

R'Tor let out a groan. "Did you get the registry number of that shuttle that hit me?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, NCC- you got knocked the hell out," Shavni joked with a grin.

"Your chief throws a hell of a punch," Paris admitted, her head still ringing and her vision a bit blurry. "You two fought like wildcats back there. You saved our lives- thank you both. Knowing the full situation and taking her on anyway... I'm putting you in for a commendation."

A small team of nurses rushed over to check on the four incoming officers. Taking one look at Thex, one of them looked back over her shoulder. "Marci! We need you!" Getting some scans, she added to Rita and Shavni, "You might have to give her a minute. She was banged up a bit in an altercation with some black blood animals. Looks like you lot were too."

It was easier to move on four legs than two at the moment, so Marci trotted over in her furry form. She moved a bit stiffly, but she was quick enough... and if you didn't look too closely, you didn't see her face twitch as she assumed her humanoid shape. Grabbing the nearest tricorder, she went immediately to Thex to get her stabilized. "What happened?"

"GYAH!" Paris stepped back, eyes wide, clearly startled by the appearance of a canine in Sickbay, which was compounded and magnified by said lifeform's sudden transformation into humanoid form. Frowning and regaining her composure, Paris reported.

"The security chief was possessed by the black blood and came after Lieutenant sh'Zoarhi and I on deck 8. We entered the Jeffries tubes to get away from her, and she used the emergency forcefields to cut us off. Thex improvised an escape but got herself pretty bloodied in the process. Then she tackled a shadow sehlat and got thrown against a wall after she was already barely conscious from blood loss. Chief R'Tor over there likely has a concussion and a compound fracture of the left lower leg, and Ensign Shavni likely has a concussion from when they intervened to save us from the possessed Chief T'Pral." Paris leaned a bit unsteadily on the edge of the biobed where Thex was currently being worked on.

"And what about you?" Rita's outburst hadn't bothered Marci a bit. She knew shapeshifting could be a bit... off-putting, especially when one's animal form was a predator. As she talked, she continued her scans, surprised to find that Thex didn't seem to be infected... despite tangling with a shadow sehlat. "Thex looks bad, but her treatment is simple enough. We'll close these wounds and get her on a transfuser. While that works, we can set up a full body bone knitter, and by the time she wakes up she should be almost ready to get out of here." The team of nurses moved to follow Marci's instructions, setting up the requested equipment and starting the process.

“Great... and the security team seems to be in good hands. As for me, i’ll be fine, just a headache and a little blurry vision from when the sec chief got in a good punch. I’m fine,” Paris lied fluidly, grasping for the edge of the bed to steady herself. “Just a little dizzy is all, probably from the hike down here carrying the wounded down the Jeffries tubes.”


Thex groaned slightly as she opened her eyes. She had no idea where she was as her blue eyes struggled to focus. She felt like she was very drunk and her limbs seemed very heavy. " Did we win? " She said groggily. " Oh yes " The giant jellyfish that was now hovering next to her said as one of the nurses walked right through it.

" Oh high Vash. Cound't you have shown up a little sooner?" She said weakly getting a few odd looks from the nurses.

"Go back to sleep, Thex," Marci said brightly, familiar with how groggy people could be after such blood loss. The other nurses gave Thex the same sort of look you might give someone who was eating mayonnaise with a spoon. After a few moments, all of the necessary treatment equipment was set up and functioning, and Marci turned her attention to Rita.

"I know when a patient is lying to me. Sit down." She nudged the other woman to a nearby biobed, practically forcing her to sit on it. "Tell the truth."

"I'm fine," Paris protested as she practically fell onto the biobed. The pounding in her head that was keeping pace with her pulse picked up the tempo a bit, and her vision swam as she struggled to hold on to the bed. "Okay, maybe not... it was just one punch, what am I, getting old...?"

"May have been one punch, ma'am, but it was a punch from a black blood infected pissed off Vulcan," Shavni stated with a grin. "If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Sh'Zoarhi's quick thinking on taking out the Sehlat, we would likely not be here."

Thex scoffed slightly as the jellyfish floated over the bed. One of it's tentacles reached out allowing the andorian to grip it. The warm texture brought a smile on her face. " The children of Yog-Sothoth are forbidden from interfering in this matter, child. Besides, I have been occupied."

" You always say that when I'm getting my ass kicked. " she jokingly said as one of the nurses began injecting replacement andorian blood.

"Hey, she's hallucinating... is that a bad sign?" Paris asked, watching the paler-blue-than-normal Andorian talking to thin air. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Quite normal after what she's been through," Marci replied in a reassuring tone.

" I am not hallucinating," Thex yelled from across the med bay. " Tell them Vash" she said to the jellyfish who was now hovering above the doctors head obviously trying to read the scanner. " I'm staying out this one sweetheart."

" You are unbailable," Thex replied to the jellyfish only she could see before lying back against the bed. It was only a second before she shot up again. " Are any of us infected?" She asked with a panic.

"That's... a very good question," Paris admitted from on her back in a biobed. "How does this black blood stuff transmit?"

"Relax. None of you are infected. I'd have spotted it by now, and Thex's blood would be black." Pausing in her evaluation and treatment of Rita's injuries, Marci looked over her shoulder. "Give Thex a milligram of lorazepam, please. And five of haloperidol."

"Yes, ma'am." While Marci wasn't a physician, she was the closest thing they had at the moment. As such, the responding nurse immediately moved to get the requested medications.

A moment later, two security guards carried T'Pal into Sickbay. "Where do you want her, doc?" asked the security ensign.

"Any chance of as far away from us as possible?" Thex said looking over at the security chief being carried in.

"In isolation!" Almost as quick as Marci said it, T'Pral vanished into thin air, just as Nexi's hounds and the strange ocelots had. Marci blinked but was otherwise not surprised. "Okay, we won't worry about that then." As she finished speaking, the other nurse used some ninja-like skill to give Thex the lorazepam and haloperidol injections while the Andorian woman was distracted.

" I don't need......." the engineer said as she felt her eyelids go heavy and sleep overcame her. She feel back against the bed as the nurse got to work treating her.

The nurse placed a few hexagonal pads on the lost navigator's forehead, and at the moment Paris wasn't sure who was a doctor and who was a nurse. It was then she realized that she didn't really care, so long as they were helping their shipmates. Her eyelids grew heavy, and Paris idly wondered if she'd dream of the past as she slipped from consciousness.

Shavni turned to leave Sickbay to continue her patrol.

With all of her patients now sleeping, Marci quietly slipped away to attend to other matters. Everyone was stable, and there were alarms to sound if anything changed.

The somnambulator put the gold-clad adventurer to sleep, to let her body rest and recover from the concussion and the shock safe on a biobed in the USS Hera's sickbay. As her consciousness slid into the subconscious, at the end of a long and harrowing day, Rita Paris allowed herself the luxury of remembering her T’hy’la, Sonak of Vulcan.


Pounding the deckplates had not been as satisfactory as she had hoped, despite the mileage covered nor the exertion involved. Now Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris was bustling about her quarters, slinging ingredients together to get dinner ready before Sonak arrived- assuming that he would be free to arrive. Today had been hectic already, and she had set their dinner date time a bit early, which meant that she was now in a hurry to get the vegetarian lasagna in the oven in time to be finished before he arrived.

Today had been one long stressor, starting with Stuart magnanimously volunteering Rita to grade the cadets on the Kobayashi Maru test. Not that she minded, but it did put her on the spot as she scrambled to find the grading guides of the test. Then had come the admiralty pre-inspection, which had been interrupted by the arrival of the admiral an hour and a half early. Which turned out to be a promoted Stuart, coming from inside the ship no less.

It would not have grated on her that he showed up as the inspecting admiral nearly as much had he not rushed things, as he always did. Which forced the entire crew to scramble for no reason, as he always did.

With Stuart promoted to Commodore, Sonak was suddenly promoted to Captain of the Exeter, which dredged up a number of Rita’s insecurities about the status quo changing instantly, as the dysfunctional little family she had built here with which she had become so familiar and comfortable was disrupted in an instant.

Of course, Sonak had known that would be the case and had calmed her by informing her that she would be staying on, promoted to first officer. Which was certainly a career goal, although given the looks of fear that she now received moving about the Exeter, she was definitely beginning to see how rank distanced one from any sort of relationships with the crew. Which would quite likely only become more pronounced if she managed to achieve her lifelong dream of command of a starship.

Right now it was starting to look slightly less appealing… but this was day one, so Rita wasn’t about to start revising her career plans just yet.

Then there was Lieutenant Saavik, whom Rita was trying very hard not to hate. A walking talking rulebook-quoting bit of Vulcan perfection, Rita didn’t like the way that she seemed to get preferential treatment, nor the way that she cozied up to Sonak. The fact that Rita was now going to have to deal with the woman every single day was of very little appeal, and trying to keep Sonak from finding out how she felt about his protégé was next to impossible. So she had that to look forward to tonight as well.

Like it or not, her world was changing, and Rita wasn’t enjoying it. Working under Sonak as a first officer should be an exciting opportunity for her, but instead it was twisting her stomach into knots. Stuart leaving after this cruise was something that made her unhappy as well, because she liked the man. Despite how much he had driven her crazy, the navigator had enjoyed supporting him as captain. A year, if not more, of putting up with Saavik on the bridge was liable to drive her to request a transfer despite her relationship with the last kolinahr. And somehow the promotion to executive officer had been a thrill that seemed to have been somehow short-lived. The realization struck her that despite all the ground she had covered roving about the starship today, only Stuart had congratulated her. Well, and Saavik.

The science department were at the moment all trapped inside a stasis bubble. The ensign whose experiment had produced said effect seemed to feel that the situation would best be dealt with using explosives and transporters. Which had also set her on edge, because she couldn’t decide if the man was cavalierly idiotic or eccentrically brilliant. Unsurprisingly, given her own experiences, the possibility of having science officers torn apart by the transporter made her break out in a cold sweat every time she considered the possibility. So much for successfully dealing with her transporter phobia.

Times changed and nothing lasted forever, so there was no choice but to adapt. That didn’t mean that she had to like it, though.

There was the brief consideration that perhaps lingerie would make the evening more special, but she suspected that this might not be a night of romance, given her own emotional turbulence. Although given the day that she’d had, losing herself in sensations of the flesh seemed like it might just be the best possible answer for her- deny the future, deny the present and just forget everything in an athletically orgasmic haze. Not the most adult solution to her problems, but it didn’t sound half bad right now.

Sonak, of course, found interest in the tactile sensation of the fabric textures, the rituals of disrobing yet not being naked, the effect upon her psychology and more, though of course the lust-inspiring qualities of the garments were lost upon him.

Insuring the oven timer was set, Rita rummaged through her closet looking for something lacy and enticing enough to woo a Vulcan… and that Harry Mudd perfume with the silly name... there it was, ‘Pon Farr- why wait seven years, when it could be tonight?’



The door opened automatically at Sonak’s approach- she had reprogrammed the sensor years ago to recognize him and open automatically, for she kept no secrets from him and he was almost always welcome. When he entered, he smelled immediately the aroma of that Terran dish she knew that he appreciated so much. Humans had such a richness in their culinary traditions, inspired by their powerful sensuality and deep emotional commitment to food sharing, it often made him meditate on what had been lost with emotions by his people; and especially himself.

But fortunately, in his case, he had met Rita Paris. She accepted all his limitations and alienness and freely shared with him her human passions without ever complaining over his own lack of them. Which was something he had never thought a human female could have accomplished, another lesson for him about the infinite diversity in infinite combinations his people were so proud of having as a philosophy. The closeness they had developed over the years had not only helped him take full control of his Pon Farr cycle, but the telepathic intimacy borne of it had allowed him to explore her emotions without having to feel them himself. Yet he could touch them as if they were his own, and gain a new understanding of her, of himself and of life far beyond the deepest studies of all the kolinahr masters before him.

If he could just give her as much as she was providing him, he would declare his life fulfilled. He hoped that offering her promotion and position on the Exeter would at least partially accomplish that end.

Her career, he knew, was important to her; far beyond simple professional achievement or any sort of competition, it was a defining life challenge for her. And he offered it to her because she was ready for it, and there was no one better for the job. Because he was to be the captain of this starship, and no one could better compensate for his limitations and provide him with everything he needed to be himself proficient at his job... than Commander Rita Helena Paris.

In any ship in Starfleet. she could have been the perfect first officer- but she had accepted his request to be first, just as she had accepted to be with him in every other conceivable way. That turn of good fortune was almost enough for him to start believing in luck.

Turning as Sonak entered her quarters, Rita Paris frowned slightly.

Blue had always been Sonak’s color, and the gold captain’s uniform seemed to wash him out a bit to her mind. But again, this was the nature of change- she didn’t get a vote, instead the realities of the situation were what they were and she had no choice but to learn to accept it. Though she would miss how the blue of his science commander uniform had set off his eyes. Stepping across her quarters- they were large for starship quarters yet still quite compact and efficient in truth- she entered his personal space, cozying up to him.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Captain. Well earned and overdue, I would say,” she expressed, draping her arms over his shoulders. Flat footed like this he had a few inches of height on her, which was something that she always appreciated. In moments like these she always found herself looking up at him, which was fitting in so very many ways for her. Brilliant, capable, psychic... and somehow he thought that she was amazing. Of all of the possibilities in the universe that such a man should think that she were so unique and special was still somehow a mystery to her, but in that truth was the core of their relationship.

In each the other had found someone unbelievably precious, and both counted themselves incredibly fortunate to have the other in their lives.

Her bright blue eyes sought out his own grey eyes, which seemed so impassive to many, but to her were as expressive as her own. While she was far from psychic, and she only heard his thoughts when he projected them to her, she certainly understood the varied and subtle nuances of his expressions, and would claim quite fairly to know him better than any other living being.

“I understand ‘thank you’ is the proper response,” he said flatly, knowing full well the ritual for decades now but still speaking thusly in a lame but sincere attempt at human humor. It was an old running gag between them now that always made her smile- thus the nature of the jest. “The fact is, I never wished for a command of my own. But we all must serve as best we can for the sake of others; the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

Pressing their bodies together gently, she expressed her needs physically rather than verbally while the churning emotions she was trying to tamp down told him another tale of her needs. Outwardly she simply smiled and enjoyed her proximity to him, as he wrapped his arms about her narrow waist in the manner he knew that she preferred, then she pressed her body to his tightly. This produced a significant calming effect in the human woman, and he felt much of her tension begin to melt away from this simple action.

Sonak applied some Vulcan pressure point techniques to ease the neuromuscular tension he could feel throughout her body, mixing them with the specific caresses he had learned that she enjoyed and thus emotionally soothed her. This was a new and strenuous period of her life she was entering, and he was responsible for part of that difficulty, having offered her more and weightier responsibilities. It was only proper for him to compensate as best as he could.

Sliding and nudging along her back, his hands moved smoothly and surely along her spine, pressing himself to her even as he caressed her. Times like this she felt not unlike a cello in the hands of a master musician, being tuned for a night of orchestral play. All of her problems were still there and no resolution had been reached in any of them, yet she felt calmer and more relaxed as she snuggled against his form. In this moment she needed no kiss, no stroking of their fingers, no greater intimacy- just to be held by strong arms that cared for her, as she took comfort in the sensation of being close to him, smelling his faint sandalwood scent and feeling his warm skin against her own.

Feeling how his higher body temperature was helping her to relax, he kept her physically as close to him as he dared without crushing her more fragile body with his considerable Vulcan strength. A Vulcan woman would have had no difficulty matching him; but he had found over time that this physical weakness of her human frame was, in fact, more stimulating as it made him all the more keenly aware of her physical presence and sensations. A most stimulating experience indeed, especially considering that her katra was easily a match for his own, or anyone else’s. The contrast between flesh and spirit was truly fascinating… and something he found to be quite admirable.

“I am most appreciative of this effort you have made to again, and as always, accommodate my eating habits in such a agreeable fashion. Most kind of you, considering that I have burdened you with more work and responsibility than ever. Again, you prove yourself a most admirable and remarkable person. It is most gratifying to live this relationship with you. For this, and much more, I truly thank you.”

Some might have viewed the statement as aloof and distant, emotionless and robotic. Simply the facts with an insertion of customary politeness. But for Rita Paris it was far more than that. He enjoyed her cooking and appreciated that she ate vegetarian for him. He had tried meat, experimenting and branching out, but the texture disagreed with his digestion. Thus their shared meals she voluntarily ate vegetarian, even as she seldom ate meat at meals she took alone. Except for the occasional bacon on mornings when she was feeling particularly iron poor.

When he spoke such words though, it was more than an effort of politeness. The man was genuinely gratified that she made the effort, appreciative of both it and she herself, and it made her happy to know that she could share this with him. Most women did not pine to hear a man tell her that it was gratifying to live a relationship with them, but for Sonak that spoke volumes, and she knew what she meant to him. One of the advantages of loving a psychic was that more than once she had seen herself through his eyes, and she knew exactly how he felt and what depth his words carried on so many levels.

Running her fingers up his neck into the back of his hair, she pulled him down to her a bit even as she looked up to gently place their foreheads together. Whenever she gently coaxed, he always moved with her, in a dance whose steps he had learned through practice rather than instinct. Yet despite his great strength he followed her lead without resistance, for the course she plotted was the one he followed, as he had since they had begun their relationship.

I’m scared, Sonak. I am afraid of letting you down and I really can’t stand that woman and I am very much going to miss Michael and a shipful of cadets seems like a recipe for disaster and I’m concerned the amateur scientist is going to kill the science team or worse and all of the junior officers are afraid of me now and I really love you so much it hurts and I am afraid this is going to change things and ruin the good parts of my life

It may have seemed the antithesis of logic to project pure emotional chaos into the ordered mind of a Vulcan in such a manner, through one of the closest proximities their minds could achieve. But Sonak was a kolinahr, the last of a long line of ancient Vulcan logic masters... and his was no ordinary mind, even amongst Vulcans. The ebullient and neurotic Rita Paris had been intimately connected with him for years now as his T’hy’la, his one, and she knew what would do harm and what would not. When to suppress, and when to share. This was time to share, because more than ever, in so many ways, she needed him.

He had grown accustomed now to the torrential flood of emotions that carried her thoughts to his own, like a tide bringing in crashing waves upon a reef. And just as a reef, he simply stood there and molded the flow over and around him just like the power of the tide molded him without ever dislodging him. In fact, he often conveyed this most alien image, as Vulcan had small and rather tame oceans compared to those of Earth, as a mind technique for her benefit. Something about such primordial imagery resonated in the human psyche; even he, a Vulcan, was sensitive to it. His mind spoke from it.

Fear is like the wind; you feel the cold, but it will pass and will never hold you. You can no more ‘let me down’ than the surf can let down the coast. All living things can only respond according to their gifts. That is true of Saavik as well. You are the seagull now, and she is but the chick out of the egg that once you too were. Give her time to spread her wings… and show her how.

Michael Stuart is forever part of us; he can never be gone from us, even if he is not there. Children need adults to become adults themselves, and it is the adult’s greatest duty to be there to help them do so. You are that adult, Rita. Do not worry over what you cannot change, but act to change what can be. Let the wind of your fear pass and it will soon pass over the others as well when they will feel your warmth afterwards.

It is the same for love as for fear or any other emotion; the stronger the feeling, the calmer you shall be, like the reef with the passing tide. The tide will always come… and it will always ebb. Life is movement. Life is change. That’s what makes life good; because change does not equate loss. It equates growth.

And we have chosen to grow together.



Lost to her, she could still feel that part of him inside her soul. If she wished she could call up any memory of him and likely even interact with it, dialogue with it, gain comfort from it. But the very thought introduced the logical observation that to do so would be unhealthy, as she might call upon that reflection of him over and over, imbuing it with more and more of her own consciousness until madness took hold.

Madness was somewhere Rita had been once already, and she had no desire to return.

Instead, as a compromise, Rita recalled the memory of her lover’s face, so that she could remember trailing her fingers across his smooth cheek, and cupping the line of his jaw in her palm. What remained of him within her would help her to remember their time together, for his memory was far more accurate. And he would provide her with answers from time to time, such as when he identified a sehlat was when it was chasing her. Feeling that bit of him always within her would on some level convince her, no matter how firmly stated her denials or protests, that Sonak would still find a way to rescue her. Or that she would find a means and opportunity to return to him.

Away from the Hera, away from the future which she struggled to understand, in her dreams the lost navigator could remember the past and treasure the life she’d lost. In the waking world she had duties and responsibilities and people whom she was getting to know who expected her to be squared away and on the job. But this was not that time- this was her downtime, a much-needed rest during which no one expected anything of her.

For while she recalled the logic in her lover's words and the wisdom therein, and she knew this experience would force her to grow, her loss was still fresh. To her heart, this change did equate loss.

Alone in her own mind, the heart of Rita Paris pined and keened for her lost love.