When the away team, plus an unexpected extra crewman emerged from the lightly smoking shuttlecraft, ch’Thane was the first to notice that the shuttle’s hull was intersecting the deck of the shuttlebay. The andorian gasped, and the Captain responded by calling, “Computer, lights!”

The lighting quickly improved to a normal level, and Hashar found himself gasping at what he was seeing. The shuttlecraft had come in to the bay at angle. That angle had continued, right through the bulkheads of both the shuttle itself and the shuttlebay starship Missouri. There was no rending of metal as there would have been in an outright collision. It was as if the shuttle had phased partially into the deck, then shifted back to normal space. Hashar whistled. It was a wonder that any of them were alive. It was not, however, the trill knew, a wonder that the shuttle was non-functional.

There was a dry call from the shuttlecraft, and Mor did a quick head-count. There was Troi, ch’Thane, Anderson, Korr, the big Catian that had appeared, and the woman whose species Hashar hat not quite determined as yet. So who, he wondered, was calling from the shuttle? He glanced toward Korr, who was moving back toward the shuttle entrance when a nearly-neon blue hand emerged from the craft’s interior.

“Who goes there,” the Cardassian intoned sinuously as he drew a phaser and leveled it toward the hand. He reasoned that a body would soon follow.

The Cardassian’s inquiry was met with a shrill, raspy cry. A hairless, softly tapered, blue head emerged from the shuttle’s jaunting entryway. The creature that fell slid forth on the strength of that hand, then another, was thin and carried a light frame.

It was definitely a woman. Hashar moved toward the woman who lay now in a sprawled heap on the deck. Korr moved to hold the Captain back, but Hashar held up a hand and sidestepped the Cardassian. Korr knew better than to protest the Captain’s actions when the man was determined, and let the trill pass. “Can you hear me,” Hashar said.

The woman’s head lifted, and she said, in very readily apparant agony, “Shaslim meeshansinic.” Then, she implored, “Calass stamaniset,” before promptly fainting.

Mor looked around at the gathered crew, including the Catian. “Does anyone know of anything stranger that has ever happened?” He saw one or two begin to respond and said, “Don’t answer that.” He tapped his commbadge. “Mor to bridge.”

“Bridge,” a stressed voice responded. The connection belied no distress on the bridge.

“Status,” Mor said impatiently.

The beleaguered ensign responded, “We’re okay. We went through some sort of watery um, wall?” The woman paused for a moment, then continued, “. . . and we don’t know where we are, but there’s no other intelligent life within ten light years, so I think we’re safe. We’reheading toward a binary star to hide out,” she said, following with agulp of air.

Mor said, “Acknowledged. Continue to attempt to get a fix on our position.” He looked carefully around at everyone else, and said, “Send us a three-man security escort. We need to get a couple of stowaways to Sickbay.”

written by Mike Royer
Ensign Alice Miyagi

“Status,” Mor’s disembodied voice barked impatiently over the comm system.

Alice gathered herself together, doing her best to sound official. “We’re okay. We went through some sort of watery um, wall?. . . and we don’t know where we are, but there’s no other intelligent life within ten light years, so I think we’re safe. We’re heading toward a binary star to hide out,” she said, following with a gulp of air.

“Acknowledged. Continue to attempt to get a fix on our position.” The captain paused momentarily and she heard a slight rustling over the open channel.“ Send us a three-man security escort. We need to get a couple of stowaways to Sickbay.” He added, promptly closing the channel.

Ensign Miyagi sighed loudly. ~ That didn’t sound stupid at all.~ She thought critically to herself. ~ Watery um, wall… Real technical, truly an expert in your chosen field…~ Swiveling her chair, se looked out across the bridge attempting to locate the acting tactical officer, but was instead intercepted met by Commander Keren’s fierce gaze.

“Anything to report ensign.” He inquired coldly.

“Yes sir.” She choked down a thick wad of saliva. “The away team made it aboard. They have requested that a three man security team be sent to escort them to sickbay.”

“Alert sickbay.” Keren ordered, immediately approaching the vacant security station. Standing there hunched over the stunted console, the big Klingon quickly input a series of commands.

“Bridge to sickbay.” Alice attempted without success to establish a comm link. “Bridge calling Sickbay.” She tried again, her brow furrowing slightly as she was starting to get a little concerned. “Sickbay please respond.”

Keren’s eyes were on her once again. He began to lurch forwards ever so slightly, as though preparing to traverse the bridge in the ensign’s direction.

Then Alice noticed something. An odor. It was chemical in nature. An unpleasant odor. It was familiar. A smell that both her instincts and experiences up till this point told her was bad news. She hardly had time to utter the words. “I smell something burning.” before her panel shorted, wheezing out a smoky haze as it went. There was no fancy light show. No explosion, as panels sometimes tended to do when they overloaded. Just a light electrical cracking, a flickering of lights and then a slow stream of black smoke. Coughing, the woman batted it away from her face.

Keren looked annoyed. He hit his comm badge. “Bridge to sickbay.” He was unsuccessful. “Bridge to engineering.” There was still no reply. “Engineering respond.”

“Yes?” A somewhat confused sounding voice finally replied.

“Sickbay isn’t responding. Is there something wrong with shipboard communications?” The commander growled.

“Communications?” There was a long silence. “I don’t think so. I mean we’re talking… arn’t we?”

Keren was not impressed. He gritted his teeth from side to side impatiently. “Who is this!” He barked.

“Crewman Mendez, hydroponics bay. Ships systems arn’t exactly my…”

“That will be all crewman.” Keren interrupted, cutting him short.

Alice could see that this was starting to get on the commander’s nerves and she wisely did her best to contain a grin. Unfortunately she was only partially successful.

Just then the doors to the turbo-lift slid open reviling an officer who might have some light to shed on the situation. immediately spotting the newcomer, Keren knew he finally had a source for some potential answers. The comm system wasn’t the first thing in the past few minutes to suddenly have an agenda of it’s own, an obvious theme was developing and he had no time for it. Affixing his burning gaze upon the humanoid who now occupied the space immediately outside the lift, he took a moment to suppress his pulsating Klingon temper before calmly asking.

“Why are we experiencing so many systems failures?”

written by Mike Royer
Ensign Alice Miyagi

“These distributors are completely fried… I still don’t get it. It sounds like there was a short in the comm system long before we were struck. An internal communiqué should never have been transfered to this console to begin with” Mobry was talking as much to himself as to Commander Keren, thinking out loud as he worked. “And what could this possibly have to do with internal sensors… These are isolated systems?”

“This is all very interesting Ensign, but my main concern is getting the defensive systems back to full strength.” The Commander said as he stood, arms crossed, looking down to where the Human’s black uniformed legs sprawled out from beneath the science console. ” We are in unknown territory and although there have been no signs of hostile activity since our arrival, that does not mean we are safe here.”

“We can go on fixing and replacing things all day Commander, but until we find the cause I wouldn’t put too much stock in those repairs.” Mobry’s voice drifted back, muffled slightly by the panel. “That Quayan tractor beam, or whatever it was, did some pretty nasty things to our power grid. If you ask me these malfunctions are all merely symptoms of the same thing.”

Alice had been standing by for the past few minutes, feeling quite useless as she listened to the conversation between the Klingon and the Human. “Excuse me Commander.” She inquired gingerly, over Keren’s shoulder as though a softer tone of voice would somehow lessen the perceived inconvenience of the interruption. Turning slowly towards her he gave his attention. She continued. “I request permission to leave the bridge? I believe that I would be of more use in the astrometrics lab or stellar cartography for the time being.”

He seemed to consider it for a moment. “No.” Keren grunted. “Request denied. Relieve crewman Davies and take the conn.”

Alice was taken slightly aback by this. Her nose wrinkled ever so slightly as her facial expression changed to one of confusion. “I think I see where you are going with this sir, but I’m not qualified to fly the ship. What if we…”

“I’m well aware of that Ensign.” He glowered cutting her short. Klingons were not renowned for their patience. “We aren’t going anywhere till these repairs are complete. Perform you scans from the helm.” Without so much as a twitch he then briskly turned and resumed his conversation with the engineering officer.

Alice left them, traversing the short distance to the helm as ordered. Having overheard their conversation Davies was already on his feet. He smiled politely, stepping aside as she approached and gestured for her to sit down.

“Thank you.” Alice said seating herself at the controls. She felt momentarily disoriented, surveying the panel to ensure that she was familiar with the locations of the various flight controls, so as not to accidentally disturb the Missouri’s orbit as she worked. Something felt wrong, she could feel it deep down from within her body. She was vibrating, no the panel was vibrating… The entire bridge was vibrating with increased ferocity. The feeble shutter increased rapidly to a violent shudder and then great buffets, causing her to grab the panel to keep from being tossed from her seat.

“Report!” Keren sounded, bracing himself against a nearby bulkhead amidst the chaos. Just then, more suddenly then it had started, the buffeting stopped, returning the bridge to it’s former state of relative calm.

“It seems that the inertial dampeners were momentarily overwhelmed…” Savoy reported briskly from the ops station. “They look to be functioning normally at present.”

“That can’t be all.” The Klingon mused.

“I think I may be able to shed some light on that.” Alice interjected, now plugging away feverishly at her console. “Yes.” She took a moment to verify the readouts. ” Like I suspected… This region appears to be densely populated with gravitational anomalies. What we just experienced must have been the sheering forces associated with our passing through one.”

“Full stop.” Keren snapped. “Why didn’t we detect this earlier?”

“Because I had to utilize a tachyon beam, which isn’t incorporated into a standard sensor sweep. ” She leaned momentarily to one side, permitting Davies to reach past her to access the flight controls.

“How severely will this affect navigation?”

“I can map them but it will take some time. Till then it’s hard to say how big a problem we are looking at.” Alice paused giving her mind a few moments to examine the problem. “I would presume that the anomalies will be most troubling between the two stars.” She added. “Since they are orbiting each other, it is also probable that we are looking at a dynamic field here. Even sitting still we might get hit.”

written by Mike Royer
Lieutenant JG Oren ch’Thane

The blue alien certainly looked frail, as it lay there, sprawled across the bio bed. Was this creature diseased, or had it come from a low gravity environment? ch’Thane wasn’t sure what to make of it. He thought he had heard one of the medical staff refer to it as a she, but he wasn’t certain, nor could he tell. Really he doubted that it was that simple. As much as all humanoids appeared to be similar they were most often in the same breath vastly different. His own species for example had four separate genders, but most found that concept somewhat confusing. Thus for simplicity’s sake, as far as the vast majority were concerned, Oren was a he.

The alien let out a gurgled cry, appearing to only vaguely be aware of it’s surroundings, as a member of the medical staff stood nearby, meticulously running a medical tricorder along the length of it’s bony body.

“What’s the alien’s condition?” ch’Thane said across the bio bed in askance.

“Her nervous system has been substantially stressed, but for the moment at least, she appears to be in stable condition.” The man answered continuing to focus on his instrument. “It may interest you to know that you have something in common with her.” He added.

“I hope you aren’t referring to our skin colour.” ch’Thane replied, his antennae betraying the interest that his facial expression failed to convey.

“No, of course not.” The human chuckled. “It’s true that you both have blue skin, but your pigmentation, as I’m sure you know all to well, comes from the proteinous dye HZB-41. This alien on the other hand appears to be blue because of polyps in her skin, containing colonies of micro organisms. It’s a fascinating relationship really.”

The Andorian looked down at the alien, momentarily imagining what one of these polyps and it’s millions of inhabitants might look like magnified.

The Human continued. “However that’s not what I was referring to when I said you two had something in common. What I meant, is that the compositions of your skeletal structures are similar.”

“How so?” ch’Thane inquired, looking up from the bio bed.

“Simply put, you both have highly cartilaginous bones, a chitin-like cartilage-bone fusion if you will. True that the ratios are different, but this specific type of physiological adaptation is extremely rare amongst currently cataloged species. In your case, it means that your bones are exceptionally resilient to injury and I would theorize that the same is true for her species. However that is where the similarities end. Her bones are nearly three times as cartilaginous as yours. In essence she would appear to be Gumby incarnated.”

“Gumby?” ch’Thane said, slightly confused by the reference.

“Pardon me sir, an archaic Earth reference. Gumby was a children’s toy from the later half of the twentieth century. What I meant is that this humanoid would appear be unusually flexible. It’s almost as though her bones are made of rubber.”

Just then the alien cried out again, this time much louder than before, cutting their conversation short. Her entire demeanor had changed, as though something was suddenly causing her increased anxiety. Pausing to listen, Oren began to detect a growing vibration in the deck plating. He hardly had time to realize what was happening and grasp the edge of the bio bed, before the room burst into a series of violent intensifying oscillations and the red alert claxon sounded.

The air was thick.  It was deafening, for it carried a sound.  The sound was solid, and buffeted the atmosphere.  The sound was a pure, white noise.  It was a crushing, rushing nothingness.  It washed over the entire ship, bow to stern, and then dissappeared.  The phenomenon lasted only a moment in this universe, a pulse of non-reality that engulfed the ship, then moved on.

In it’s wake, little had changed.

Hashar’s eyes opened quickly.  It occurred to him that he had just had a masterful dream.  In it, he had gone from Counselor to Commanding Officer in nearly the blink of an eye, and had subsequently led his crew through a series of evolutions that drew them together and honed their strength and consistency.  “Computer,” he said groggily, swinging his legs off of the bed – which seemed somehow vaguely larger than he had remembered.  “When’s my first appointment?”

The computer responded with a confused whirr and a short series of soft clicks before responding, “Question unclear.  Please restate request.”

Mor

Snapped to full awakeness, annoyed at the computer for its apparent glitch.  “Computer, have you lost my schedule?”

“Negative,” the comfortable, familiar voice rang out clearly.

Mor stood, heading toward the head.  He stopped, confused.  There was a bulkhead where the head should be.  “Lights.”

As the lights rose in his quarters, years of experience washed back into his consciousness.  This was not the quarters he had been expecting, because somewhere deep within, his psyche had decided that the last few years would be better processed as a dream.  Then, he could get back to his life as Chief Counslor aboard the starship Missouri.  This however, was untruth.  He was the Commanding Officer of the starshp Missouri.

He turned then, correcting himself, his shoulders squaring off as he reverted to who he had become as Captain Mor, sloughing of the mantle of the burgeoning Counselor.  He was no more vital as the Captain, but far more scrutinized.  He stood taller, more certain, more willing to believe that the compulsions of others might in fact be the right way to go.

He took a shower, and headed to the bridge.  En route, he thought about the visitors that had arrived aboard the ship the previous night.  It had taken some time to get the translation matrices to properly parse their variant languages, but finally an understanding had been come to.  Each of the new personnel had been assigned quarters, albeit some together, and after having been awake for hours following the Missouri’s investigation of the quantum movement of the Quayar system, Mor had dairly dropped into his bed with a heavy thud, out until his mind had refreshed.

The doors opened onto the bridge, and the first thing he noticed was that the blue woman, whose name, he had discovered, was Gal’ann, was sitting at the conn.  Lieutenant ch’Thane stood over her, and it looked as if he was showing her how to operate the navigational console.  He stopped in his tracks, letting the door slide shut behind him.  Across the bridge, some personnel glanced up, but then returned to their work, some of which was repair from the newest universal jaunt of the starship Missouri.   The Andorian had not been one of the visual responders to his entrance, so intent was he on his instruction with Gal’ann.  Hashar cleared his throat, making his way toward the pair he had been watching.

“Showing strangers how to fly the ship – is that wise?”  Finally, he had gotten the Andorian’s attention.  The blue skinned humanoid looked up at the trill, antennae leaning slowly outward.

Sitting at the controls of the small ship, the pilot was unremarkable looking. Tall, thin, with white hair, he could have been from a number of bipedal humanoid races. The first guess would, of course, be wrong, unless you had been to Thor 5, a smallish research and agricultural world on the Gorn – Federation border.

It was on this uninhabited world that the S’Rulian ship Wanderer had dropped off a team and then headed back into deep space, to continue their circumnavigation of the Universe. They knew the trip would never be completed, but the S’Rulian were especially long lived, curious and stubborn enough to have spent almost 100 centuries in space on their slow voyage. One of the families dropped off was the Tporitz clan, whose middle son was named PoDo.

And now he was a member of Star Fleet, a physician of some note and his next assignment was ahead, a starship called Missouri.

The ship he flew was also going to Missouri, a replacement for one of the shuttles. This modified fighter was designed to add a warp speed ambulance to the ship that seemed to always get sent on SAR missions. Designed from the Thunder class heavy fighter, the SAR shuttle had a complete, and very small medical bay as well as 4 automated Autodoc tubes which would treat severely injured patients in a germ free and armored environment.

PoDo stretched and headed for the replicator punching in a roast veldbeast sandwich and droobleberry juice. Sniffing the bright green juice he took the few steps back to the pilots seat and looked at the readout. Fourty minutes to rendezvous.

written by Lois Li
Lieutenant T’Lara Troi

The Sickbay was quiet as always. Anderson, the human Assistant Medical
Officer was in charge. He couldn’t help but feeling bored. There hadn’t been
much activity in the last few months. Although he went through the ship’s
personnel medical file everyday, keeping everyone’s medical examination
updated was not much of a hassle comparing to finding someone who actually
needed a checkup. The human found himself wondering about genetic
recombination lately, and how he could work with Troi to come up with some
sort of research project to keep the Medical Department occupied during this
uneventful period.

The door to the Sickbay beeped, slid open, and the Chief Medical Officer
T’Lara Troi appeared on the other side. “Good morning, Dr. Troi,” said Ryan
Anderson enthusiastically. The human was excited to see the arrival of the
Vulcan. Keeping his human cool in mimic of Troi’s usual impassive
expression, he toned down his voice and stated, “How are you this morning?”

“I am doing fine as usual,” replied the Vulcan, “I take it, from the tone of
your voice, that you have something exciting to tell me.”

Man, she might as well be a telepath, thought Anderson to himself as he
stated, “Aye, Doctor. What do you say that we start a little project of
genetic recombination?”

Raising an eyebrow, the Vulcan asked, “Am I safe to state that the typical
boredom humans experience in periods of inactivity has resulted in this
interesting proposal of yours?”

Nodded Anderson sheepishly, “Doc, you sure know me well.”

With a slight nod which was equivalent to a smile from Troi, the Chief
Medical Officer replied, “Let’s hear what you have here.”

The human took out a padd from the nearby drawer and handed over to the
Vulcan, “here are the details.”

Reading with proficiency, the Vulcan looked up from the padd, “using a
virion agent, if not contained carefully, can affect the ship’s bio relay
system.”

“Yes. However, if we genetically manipulate it properly, it can benefit the
bio portion of the ship.” Said Anderson with a smile, he then added in a
jokingly tone, “don’t worry. I will make sure we don’t program the virus to
blow up the ship, Doctor.”

written by Lois Li
Chief Medical Officer TLara Troi

After working on the genetic recombination project for five hours, Anderson
finally put down the padd, and turned to look at the Vulcan Doctor, “I am
ready, Dr. Troi. Everything is set to go.”

Raising an eyebrow with the amazement towards the human’s speedy
accomplishment, Troi stated, “Fascinating progress.” The Vulcan nodded and
stood up, “Let’s proceed to the holodeck for a live testing.”

“Er=85″ hesitated the human as he replied, “perhaps it is more convenient a=
nd
efficient if we just do it over here in the lab?”

“In the lab?” Troi walked towards her Assistant Medical Officer, “you have
all the material ready?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Something did not seem right and as if a critical part was missing, Troi
rejected to the idea, “everything is progressing too rapidly. It is
illogical to proceed without testing it in the holodeck.”

Anderson replied with confidence, “while I was off and being bored, I have
already tested some of my ideas in the holodeck. Everything went well.
Here.” He handed a padd with holographic logs of the project to the Vulcan,
and waited as an anxious child.

“You have done very well,” with the undeniable evidence in front of her,
Troi agreed, “let’s proceed then.”

In the next hour and half, the synthetic virion agent was being programmed
and reprogrammed numerous times by the two medical officers. Viral capsules
were designed so that they could attach to a wide range of biological cells=
..
Suddenly, the power to sickbay went off, and one second later, it came up
again. With puzzlement, Troi tapped her combage, “Sickbay to the Bridge, we
just experienced a power fluctuation. Is everything all right?”

Turning towards Anderson, “check on the status of the virion agent during
that one second power break.”

Mor had only just gotten to the bridge to see the two blueskins conspiring to effectively fly the ship when a call came in from sickbay. Hashar turned his head to the side to get a better hear of Doctor Troi’s firm tones asking what had happened in the holodeck. “Check on that would you,” he gestured to the Catian standing at the operations station. Apparently, the crew had found that these new inductees to the Missouri mythos were viable parts of the crew. He certainly wished he had been consulted at least, but recognized the fact that people might forget about pleasantries and even protocol under the kind of constant stress the Missouri seemed destined to. Hashar continued to head to the center seat of the bridge, stepping up then down as he watched the Catian respond as if this were all second nature to him.

Wayland, for his part, was nonplussed by the Captain’s stare. His hands sailed across the board as they had done for years, searching the root cause of the fluctuation the Chief Meidcal Officer had discovered. He had decided when he first met T’Lara Troi that he liked her. It was something about her that spoke to him. She seemed honest and true. The woman was familiar to him as one of many types of people he had met in the travails of his life. She was blunt in her speech and retained her sense of compassion. When he first arrived aboard the ship, Wayland was completely out of it, having just jaunted from one universe into another that was likely at least six universes away. He had screamed, having been phasered to death (or so he thought) by his best friend. He had also roared, clawed at the spectre of Utex in his head, and he had roared wildly, and he had been utterly confused. Thankfully, the Doctor had restrained him until his confusion had worn off.

When that happened, when the understanding of one universes iterated into the reality of the other, Wayland had calmed, feeling comfortable, understanding his senses once more and finding himself among friends. Starfleet was what he had found. It was somehow different, but it was also somehow perfectly right, which is what he had always felt that Starfleet was. Almost instantly after his conscious entry into this universe, he found his place.

He talked to the Andorian from this universe and went along on a “field-trip” to the ship’s command center to see if he could understand it. It was familiar and exactly as he had learned in memory. Wayland leaned in toward the engineering board and whistled the first time he had met it. It was exactly as he had remembered from the Victory. Then, as the phaser-rifle bearing guards had begun to move off, he had found the operations station. It seemed to sing to him. It was as if if he could learn the station effectively, life would embrace him and continue. He could have something to do. He was not sure of it, and preferred something other than operations (almost anything), but the station seemed perfect.

So it was that his light-auburn furred hands slipped across the board as the call from Doctor Troi came in and he reported, “It’s just an aftershock form the universal twitch.”

Hashar was about to sit down, but stopped and turned to the Catian. “What now, ahh . . “

“Wayland,” the Catian told the Trill his name firmly, and met the Captain’s eye. “What I mean to say sir,” emphasizing the sir in honest recognition of the trill’s status, “is that your ship has just moved from one universe into another via a technology neither you or I understand, and the computer systems, like myself, are going to have some odd reactions.”

Mor, having left for the bridge before Wayland had been contained and understood, glanced in sharp confusion at the Catain, but wanted to understand. The part about the ship moving from one universe to anther he understood entirely. He was, in fact, used to it. What he did not quite “get” was how the Catian’s entrance into this universe was oddly-reactive.

Chief Science Officer ch’Thane chuckled. Pointing at Wayland, he said, “You know what, I like you, Wayland. You’re absolutely right.”

Hashar softened. “Yeah yeah, save it. Can someone reassure the Doc that everything’s fine, please,” Mor said as he sat in his chair and began consulting his armrest’s LCARS access terminal.

written by Mike Royer
Lieutenant JG Oren ch’Thane

“Showing strangers how to fly the ship – is that wise?” Finally, Hashar had gotten the Andorian’s attention. The blue skinned humanoid looked up at the trill, antennae leaning slowly outward.

“No, that wouldn’t be wise.” ch’Thane replied. “In fact it would constitute a breach of our security protocols.”

Just then a call came in from sickbay, drawing the captain’s attention away.

“Check on that would you.” Hashar gestured to the Catian standing at the operations station.

Turning back to the task at hand, the Blueskin peered over Gal’ann’s shoulder, only to see that she had finished once again and was waiting patiently for him.

Twice he had given her a different blank spatial grid to fill in, each based on Stellar Cartography’s analysis of a separate section of the field of gravitational anomalies in which they were now situated. Twice now that she had filled in the blanks effortlessly, as though the answers were right in front of her. What had Alice called it?… Was it Witchcraft? It was some unfamiliar human term, but that didn’t matter. He had been confused at first (by the ensign’s choice of words more than anything else), then sceptical and now he didn’t know what to think of this “Witchcraft” that stared back at him from the panel in the form of yet another perfect facsimile of a tiny section of the anomaly field that surrounded the ship. Gal’ann had never seen the charts. Something strange was at play here.

“Alright.” ch’Thane said as much to himself as to the alien, reaching down past her to the conn, to devise a new scenario. His fingers danced swiftly across the panel and within a few moments he had another spatial grid, only this time it wasn’t blank, but complete. “Try this one.” He straightened, observing silently.

Gal’ann stared blankly at the image before her, her expressionless eyes absorbing the information with which she had been presented.

“I don’t know how she got there, but I found her alone in the mess hall, staring out the window, just blurting out random numbers.” Alice had explained earlier that morning during the science department’s morning briefing. “ It was a little eerie, but I didn’t think anything much of it at first… That is until I realized they were strangely familiar, and checked. As it turned out she was listing the spatial coordinates of gravitational anomalies. They were all from a scan I had completed only a half hour earlier. I’m the only one who worked on those scans and there she was, listing them out, bang on! It was like… like… witchcraft!”

“You mean like a Telepath?” Someone had chuckled.

“That was my first thought, but she knew the numbers way better than I did.” Alice had responded, appearing to be feeling somewhat sheepish for her poor choice of words.

“Could this not have been a mere coincidence?” ch’Thane had said in askance.

“I don’t think so. She was far too accurate for that.”

The Andorian had thought it over for a moment, his antennae wringing in sync with his thought processes. This was his first day as acting chief science officer. He had no idea why he had been chosen to fill the position, but never the less here he was.

“I’m scheduled to give her a tour of the bridge today, as part of her shipboard familiarization. I will present her with some charts and see if I can observe anything similar. Depending on…”

ch’Thane snapped back to the present. “Is something wrong?” He asked, noticing that Gal’ann hadn’t done anything with the chart, but was instead swiveling her chair to face him.

“I don’t know this.” She replied.

“Why the others, but not this one?”

“I don’t know, I’m tired.”

“Would you like some rest?”

“No. it’s not like that, I’m tired.”

ch’Thane was slightly confused. There was something choppy and disjointed about the way Gal’ann spoke. She was frequently difficult to understand. He was beginning to suspect that it was less an issue with the universal translator and more a difference in the way her mind worked.

“I wish to go…” She paused, as though searching for the words. “I wish to go to the mess hall.”

“I see no problem with that.” ch’Thane replied. “You know how the comm system works, don’t hesitate to use it if you require assistance.”

“Yes.” She said simply, simultaneously vacating the conn station. With a stiff bow and a turn she had soon disappeared into the aft turbolift leaving the Andorian alone at the conn.

“Most intriguing.” He muttered to himself, taking a seat and removing the security lockouts he had activated on the station.

“It’s just an aftershock form the universal twitch.” Wayland announced from Operations.

Hashar was about to sit down, but stopped and turned to the Catian. “What now, ahh . .”

“Wayland,” the Catian said firmly, meeting the Captain’s eye. “What I mean to sir,” emphasizing the sir in honest recognition of the trill’s status, “is that your ship has just moved from one universe into another via a technology neither you or I understand, and that the computer system, like myself, are going to have some odd reactions.”

Mor, having left for the bridge before Wayland had been contained and understood, glanced in sharp confusion at the Catain, but wanted to understand. The part about the ship moving from one universe to anther he understood entirely. He was, in fact, used to it. What he did not quite “get” was how the Catian’s entrance into this universe was oddly-reactive.

ch’Thane chuckled. Pointing at Wayland, he said, “You know what, I like you, Wayland. You’re absolutely right.”

Hashar softened. “Yeah yeah, save it. Can someone reassure the Doc that everything’s fine, please,” Mor said as he sat in his chair and began consulting his armrest’s LCARS access terminal.

written by Mike Royer
Ensign Alice Miyagi

It had been a difficult morning for Ensign Miyagi. The previous night’s rest had been inadequate in a word, thanks largely to a repeat performance by Ensign Lane’s sinuses. Lane’s snoring had been so laborious and penetrating that on one occasion, when Alice had awoken to it, her first thought had been that the woman was under some form of respiratory duress and required medical attention. As the grogginess had begun to wear of, she had of course realized that the only person suffering was herself. When morning finally did arrive, their sonic shower was offline along with half of deck 5, to facilitate repairs to the eps grid. To top that however, there had of course been a stirring encounter with Gal’ann in the mess hall late the previous evening. The blue alien had appeared so engulfed in her own activities that the human doubted that she had even been noticed, as she sat alone, the only other living thing in the room, trying to get her yogurt down.

Now, as the ensign completed the last of a recent battery of scans on the field of anomalies surrounding the ship, she felt at least some small sense of relief in her accomplishment. The most recent scans appeared to coincide with the previous set in indicating, for the moment at least, that the anomalies didn’t pose an immediate threat to the Missouri. It wouldn’t be long now, before they would have an accurate enough chart to plot a safe course back to open space.

Just then Gal’ann caught Alice’s eye, as she got up from where she had been seated at the helm. She wasn’t especially tall, but she was on even ground with the Andorian who stood next to her, even though he was tall for a member of his species. As the Science Officer watched the woman leave the bridge, she couldn’t help, but wonder if ch’Thane had been able to find any evidence of what she had witnessed earlier. Gal’ann hadn’t given any indication that she was a threatening or malevolent being, but if she possessed unusual abilities the command staff would need to be made aware of them.

“What now, ahh . . “

Captain Mor’s confused tones drew Alice’s attention to where he stood, next to the command chair, facing a Catian officer behind the operations console. Apparently they were discussing the finer points of a malfunction which had occurred minutes earlier in sickbay. One of the unexpected guests who had turned up recently, the Catian, who the human now knew was named Wayland, had managed to integrate himself into the crew with impressive speed. Alice couldn’t even begin to imagine where he must have come from, or how he or any of the others wound up aboard the Missouri. She had seen the shuttle bay’s latest permanent fixture though. With the engineering staff kept busy repairing the Missouri’s systems, the shuttle had been left where it came to rest, fused slightly nose down into the deck plating. It was a wonder that there had been no serious injuries.

Focusing on her station, the ensign set about updating the navigational database. It wasn’t long before she looked up to find ch’Thane standing over her.

“Please tell me I didn’t imagine it.” She said half jokingly.

The Andorian’s Stoic blue eyes gazed back at her over the console.

“No, I don’t believe you did.” He replied. “There is definitely something we need to resolve here.”

“Have you informed the captain yet?”

“Not yet.” ch’Thane paused, producing a data padd. “I thought I would give you an opportunity to review my findings, before I present them to him.”

Deep down Alice was touched. As a lowly ensign she had never truly expected to be kept in the loop. This made her feel somehow important. Graciously accepting the padd she zealously poured over the information it contained.

“Gal’ann seriously completed these charts with no help from the computer.” She whispered in amazement. “These are nearly perfect. Had I not heard her in the mess hall earlier… I wouldn’t believe this.”

ch’Thane nodded silently.

“Is it at all possible that she somehow accessed our navigational database?” The ensign whispered aloud.

“Doubtful.” The Lieutenant replied. “I’m not ruling it out, but there was no indication that anyone else accessed those files within the time…”

He was cut short, by the sound of an alarm klaxon. ch’Thane straightened, fixing his sight on Ensign Reynolds, who had relieved him and was manning the conn.

“Perimeter alert!” Reynolds announced

Hashar took a deep breath. “Shields to the ready. Scan them Reynolds.”  Mor looked toward the Cardassian in the corner, who had somehow become one
of the more familiar faces aboard the starship. “We don’t want to provoke them — if,” he looked around briefly, “it is anyone.”

Reynolds said, “It’s.” Then he stopped, checking and re-checking his readings.

Wayland looked puzzled, “It’s one of your shuttles. Are they early or something?”

Mor’s brow furrowed, and he turned to ch’Thane. “Did you leave on of our shuttles somewhere?” The trill was truly confused. “I don’t remember,” he said, glancing around the room to meet everyone’s eyes and to gauge their reactions as he told them, “leaving any shuttles anywhere. Did we leave a shuttle somewhere,” he gaze came to rest on ch’Thane.

The Anodorian had poured himself into the board and began pulling out schematics, scans, thermal imaging, circuitry designs, and all else he could from the shuttle that was apparently out there. “I don’t think this is possible sir,” Oren said quietly. Had he forgotten some huge incident in which a shuttle had been lost? Of course not, he told himself, antennae straightening in defiance. “In fact,” he said, his timbre certain, “I know it not possible. The only shuttle we’ve lost is in the shuttlebay right now, stuck to the floor.”

Hashar shook his head, “I wouldn’t really call that lost.”

ch’Thane pointed at the Captain. “Right!” He rolled his eyes when Hashar looked away toward the viewer.

“On screen,” Hashar said, standing in order to be ready to either address, evade or manage the situation. The shuttle’s course was direct. It was obviously making a run toward the Missouri’s shuttlebay. It was overly fast or offense, but slow and languid as a planned shuttle approach should have been. Problem was, there was no shuttle approach planned.

“They’re hailing,” Korr uttered from his station.

“Let’s not waste time then,” Mor nodded. “On screen.”

Sitting at the controls of the small ship, the pilot was unremarkable looking. Tall, thin, with white hair, he could have been from a number of bipedal humanoid races. The first guess would, of course, be wrong, unless you had been to Thor 5, a smallish research and agricultural world on the Gorn – Federation border.

Captain Mor said, “Captain Mor, of the Federation starship Missouri.” He was going to continue with ‘and this is so and so, my so and so, but wasn’t sure exactly what roles were what and really, who was who. So he stopped with himself. A blissfully brief but still uncomfortable silence passed, which he covered with, ” . . . and who are you?”

The humanoid looked offended. “PoDo Toporitz,” he deadpanned. “Your new officer? Don’t tell me they didn’t tell you. I brought your replacement shuttle,” he gestured around himself.

Mor looked around at the bridge staff. “For the shuttle that we only just damaged?”

“Ask them,” ch’Thane said quietly, “if they brought me new a new shuttlebay floor, too.”

Hashar Mor peered across toward Wayland, the largish Catian that had come aboard recently and he wondered if Wayland and this PoDo were from the same universe.  Their uniforms were similar, with small alterations.  Captain Mor’s uniform, unfortunately, was also very similar, again with some small differences.  As such, there was really no way at the moment to determine if any of them were from the same place at all.  The universal jumping had begun to feel like a normal way of life for Hashar.  Go in one place, go out another.  Jump over here, jump back there.  The Missouri had travelled the multiverse from future to past and dead on from sideways to diagonal.   It had become old hat for Mor.  This though, seemed something different.  Ins tead of one solid crew traversing a multiversal terrain, the ship itself was serving as some sort of nexus.

Now they had been presented with the strangest situation Hashar had ever encountered.  The man had been with the crew when they had broken down just out of drydock.  The Missouri had encountered a space bourne lifeform full of friendly and deadly humanoids all working of their own accords.  She had travelled twenty years into her own future and sixty years into the past that was before the keel of the Missouri was lain.

Now, only a few hours after the starship Missouri was pushed through a river into the solace of space, an unknown humanoid had appeared in nothing less than, according to sensor data, a Starfleet shuttle from the same universe as the starship and Hashar.  The trill was certainly uncertain.  He was decidedly against believing the being, but he was also sharply intrigued.

The Captain wanted to know more about the shuttle.  PoDo had said that it was a replacement for the one they lost.  Problem was, on top of the fact that they had not been in contact with Starfleet for some time and were not near any sort of Federation starship or starbase or colony or homeworld, it had only been a few hours since the shuttle was lost.  Starfleet did not work that way.  Replication helped make things fast, but to find the Missouri and send a shuttle from one universe into another, or even to track the Missouri though universes – that was crazy.

Considering the circumstances,  Hashar was intrigued, but as he ended the comm signal with PoDo, he assumed that red alert was a foregone conclusion.   He said it anyway, quietly.   “Jektal,” the trill said, “let’s go down and greet this guy.”  He looked toward the ch’Thane.  “You should come sign for your new shuttle.”  The three of them left the bridge.

As such, Strategic Operations officer was left in charge by default.  He quickly ordered up schematics and scans on the shuttle.  What he found was frustrating and confounding.  Each time a scan was run, it turned out that the shuttle PoDo was in was an identical copy of the one that was currently intersecting the shuttlebay floor.   Besides the obvious damage of the original, there were absolutely no differences.  What amazed Keren the most, however, was that the approaching shuttle carried the same electromagnetic signature in her keel.  The signature was gathered during construction, and was simply a last vestige of the moment of her creation.  By reading the electromagnetic signature, Aeryn Lexx was able to determine that the quantum signature was identical to the shuttle now merged with the deck of the shuttlebay.  This meant that the two shuttles were essentially the same shuttle.  Lexx delved deeper into the shuttle’s makeup, popping over to ch’Thane’s vacant station to do so.

written by Mike Royer
Lieutenant JG Oren ch’Thane

The shuttle and this PoDo who were now docking with the Missouri formed the latest in a long stream of developments. As the turbolift doors slid shut and it whizzed to life ch’Thane found himself thinking back to the events that had occurred at the start of this mission, even before the Missouri left starbase, attempting to make some sense of it all. His intuition told him that there had to be a connection between the disappearances, the strange appearances, the riddles, the jumps through space, everything. Somewhere there was a lynch pin tying the whole mess together and even though the Andorian didn’t know what it was yet, something told him that it was drawing nearer and soon everything would be revealed. Somewhere in this mess, there was truth…

Captain James Dyson sat in his ready room, his elbows on the table, surrounded by a stack of reports. He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes trying to restore some level of alertness to his figure. Paperwork had never been his forte and his procrastination when it came to dealing with it never helped. Getting sluggishly to his feet and straightening his uniform, he walked to the nearby replicator.

“ Hot Coffee, Black.” He ordered watching impatiently as it materialized in front of him. He them made his way back to the stack of data pads to continue the good fight, taking small sips as he went. He was about to sit down when the door chime sounded.

“ Come in.” He said, swallowing and sitting up in his chair.

The doors slid open revealing his Vulcan first officer, Commander Selar. She gracefully made her way in, hands folded neatly behind her back holding a data padd.

“ What can I do for you Commander.” The human captain said, forcing a smile.

“ I have this month’s personnel reports for your review sir…” She replied stoically extending an arm to him, whilst glancing around at the assortment of padds that already obscured his desk.

“ Unless I’ve come at a bad time…” She raised an eyebrow.

“ Quite alright, thank you.” Dyson accepted the padd and leaned back in his chair to skim over the data it contained.

“ There is just one other thing sir.” The vulcan added.

“ Yes?” He looked up from the padd.

“ There have been rumors going back and forth amongst the crew about a decommissioning.”

“ A decommissioning?”

“ Yes, of the Endurance.”

“ Interesting, this is the first I hear of it…”

“ Indeed. Should I attempt to put it down?”

“ Tell them.” He took a seconds pause to consider his wording. “ Tell them nothing. There will always be rumors aboard a starship… Denying them only lends them some degree of credibility.”

“ Agreed.” Selar nodded.

“ What was our last reported ETA for the Draconis Cluster?”

“ Our ETA was reported to be 5 hours 15 minutes at 1900 hours.”

The human captain nodded in acknowledgment.

“ Very well. Dismissed.”

Selar bowed slowly, before turning and dissapearing out of the room. He’d always found she had a very unique and peculiar way about her. Tall by almost any standard, she was very graceful and deliberate in everything she did, even for a Vulcan. Looking back to the padd in his hand he resumed reading the report. Like a parent examining their children’s report cards he carefully looked over the latest on each officer, taking great pride in what he saw. He would never have admitted it, but in a way they had become like his children and he couldn’t help, but share some sense of their accomplishments and failures. Dyson didn’t regret having not taken the time to have children of his own, but from time to time he did wonder what it would have been like. Putting the padd aside he looked loathingly at his collection of them and then consulted the time.

“ Can’t be much more then a couple more hours work here…” He said, trying to convince himself to get back to it.

“ Just a couple more hours…” He stared at the padds as they lay motionless in front of him.

“ Well then.” The human, snatched one up and started to read it.

~ There’s only one way I’m going to get through this.~ He thought to himself.

*     *     *     *

Selar stepped back onto the bridge, glancing around to ensure nothing had changed. Taking a slow walk around the dimly lit room, before heading for the command chair, she went from station to station, pausing at each one to have a brief look at what each bridge officer was doing. Mostly routine work, the majority of it warranted little more than a brief glance, however her interest was peaked when she came to the science station. Chief science officer Miyagi was on duty and she appeared to be in the process of studying some very particular energy readings emanating from a point very near their destination. Selar leaned in for a closer look and the woman jumped slightly just then having realized that she was there.

“ Please excuse me, for having startled you Lieutenant.” The Commander apologized in a flat unwaivering voice. “ Most intriguing, do you have a working theory?” She got straight down to business, hardly leaving enough of a pause for the woman to interject. Miyagi glanced from Selar to her readings momentarily, collecting her thoughts. The control panel lights bathing her facial contours in hues of green, and blue.

“ Not as of yet. It showed up on sensors only a couple of minutes ago Commander.” She reported. “ I haven’t been able to pinpoint the exact source, as we are still too far out, but as we get closer the sensor resolution will hopefully improve. There appears to be intense gravimetric distortions emanating from the phenomena.”

The computer beeped, commanding her attention and she turned to attend to it.

“ It’s gone!” The Lieutenant stated with astonishment.

“ What do you mean gone?” Selar inquired.

“ It just dissapeared all together from sensors. It was there now it’s gone?”

“ Could it be a problem with the array?”

“ I’l run a diagnostic…” Miyagi responded, her fingers dancing across the control panel.

“ Keep me apprised.” Selar said, straightening and taking one last look at the readings.

“ Yes mam.” The Lieutenant responded, her focus directed almost entirely on her instruments.

Selar slowly walked over to the command chair. She had started off her career in Starfleet as a science officer and still thought like one in many ways. The existence of the the phenomena in such proximity to the cluster was intriguing enough on it’s own, but if it had indeed winked out as suddenly as it appeared to have had, that made it all that much more unusual. Seating herself, she accessed the library computer through a console on one of the arm rests and began reviewing some of the more specific details pertaining to their current mission. She read for a moment or two, then swiveled her chair to address the Ensign at the communications station.

“ Mr Buie, have you finished calibrating the modifications to our communications array?”

“ I’ve boosted the signal through deflector control. We should now be able to compensate for the interference from the cluster.” He replied.

“ How long till we can contact the outpost.”

“ We will be close enough to utilize the modifications in approximately 15 minutes. I’l let you know once I have a connection established.”

Communications difficulties were inherent to the area, making it difficult for Starfleet to maintain any reliable means of contact with the outpost. Even within a few light years distance, anyone wishing to make contact had to find a means of cutting through the interference.

” Acknowledged.” Selar nodded, turning back to the panel on her armrest.

Written By David Joseph Moody and Mike Royer
Captain Hashar Mor and Lieutenant Jg Oren ch’Thane

Jektal stood in the back of the turbolift, eyes toward the door. At the same time, he was making certain to watch both the Captain and ch’Thane. He could not, as Security Chief, be certain that both men’s intentions were noble. He had to doubt everyone. He thought it strange that both were so nonchalant about the events unfolding. They were not shaken, they were not nonplussed. In fact the trill and the Andorian seemed to be responding to this development as if it were routine. Perhaps, Korr thought, this was an indication of duplicity. Perhaps they knew exactly what was going on. For his entire life, he had wondered if he were living in simulacrum. He thought it possible that the next traitorous action could come from someone close. The closest people at the moment were Mor and ch’Thane. He palmed a phaser as the lift slowed to the deck. “Phasers out, gentlemen,” he said imploringly. Traitors or not, he had to make certain that the group was ready to fight, if necessary.

” Aye” The andorian responded, drawing his phaser and giving it a once over, to ensure it was serviceable.

Arriving on deck ten, the three made short work of the distance to the main shuttlebay and soon found themselves outside. With a nod to a pair of crewmen in security devision uniforms, who had taken up positions on either side of the shuttlebay entrance, Korr was the first to approach the doors.

” This PoDo may not be the shuttle’s only occupant.” He warned, pausing before entering the bay. ” Be ready for anything.”

In his shuttlecraft, identical to the craft fused into the deck, PoDo ran a few last checks on the shuttle. These people were acting very strangely. He had been dispatched to replace the shuttle they had lost and to be installed as an officer aboard the ship. Strangely, the crew and Captain seemed not to expect him. Missouri Actual seemed positively disturbed by PoDo’ presence. He gathered a few things an set the shuttle’s controls to respond only to him; it was a subroutine built into the small ship’s software in case of hostile capture. It felt strange invoking it, but he did so anyway, before stepping out, into the Missouri’s shuttlebay. The room was still as it was silent, no engineering personel, no flight crew, it was ominous and disturbing and he took a moment’s pause to get his bearings, reassuring himself that this was a Federation Starship and he should have nothing to fear here. It was then that his eyes came to rest on something peculiar. There was another shuttle in the bay… Another shuttle of precisely the same configuration and bearing an identical registration to his own. PoDo, understandably dumbfounded, didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t have long to ponder this however as the sound of footsteps soon broke the eerie silence and he became aware of a trio of humanoids approaching. One of them he recognized as Captain Hashar Mor, the other two, a Cardassian and an Andorian, were not familiar to him.

” This can’t be possible!” The Andorian exclaimed to the others, his antennae quivering excitedly. ” According to my tricorder readings these shuttles are identical…”

He appeared more interested in the craft than the new arrival and this, along with his uniform led PoDo to deduce that he must be from flight control. The Cardassian on the other hand was obviously from the Missouri’s security devision and it showed in his mannerisms. Cool and composed, he moved like a predator. The fact that the shuttles were at first glance identical was of little consequence to him, so long as it didn’t impact the safety of the ship.

The lone alien braced himself, trying to appear calm as they drew nearer. Something was very wrong here and he got the distinct impression that from their perspective that something was him.

Crouched there in the depths of his shuttlecraft fused into the deck astride it, PoDo understood.  His understanding was deep, sudden, and mind-altering.

Thirty seconds ago, the little green man had dropped into a crouch and hugged his shins to himself because the situation had been one that was so terribly strange, twisted, and beyond understanding that had felt like a kind of death.  The departure from the usual intellectual and physical input had been so intense that his mind fought with the idea of The Happening having been a universal jump.

The shuttle’s sensors had gone haywire just before his goal:  The Missouri had been there one moment, and then the next, it was replaced by a strange, twisting unreality. Then space had returned, and the Missouri had returned.  The instruments of the shuttlecraft however, had been drafted off into the realm of broken watch-dials.  The laws of one universe seemed to be colliding with the laws of another.  PoDo was afraid that he himself was going mad.  Looking around and breathing the air, however, was defining.  It told him that what he sensed as air was real, and that what he felt as the world had not changed.  Something still, was remarkably different, and Podo was desperately afraid.  Something was completely wrong here, and the little officer found himself emotionally unprepared to deal with it.  Attackers and defilers and epidemics were combatable.  A situation could be irreparable.  This one, it seemed, was.  At the very least, it was unreconcilable in his mind.

Ten seconds ago, it had occurred to PoDo that the situation was strange only because of his entry into it.  Had he not entered it, the situation would have remained the same.  Captain Mor would have received his replacement vessel and new crewman, and the ship would have continued on whatever Starfleet-ordained-mission this ship had been upon.  Missouri would have continued along with the strange crew — the Cardassian Security Officer, for instance.  Mor would have continued along with the Intrepid class starship that, according to PoDo’s navigational system, was not anywhere near where the rendezvous and replenishment had been planned.

Two seconds ago, PoDo had decided that he was here for a reason.

PoDo stood, and peeked his head from an aft edge of the shuttlecraft.  “Lieutenant PoDo,” he said, striding into view, “reporting for duty.”  He was determined to pass whatever test of his life this was.  He decided that he had to go along with this new thing, lest he be lost in miscomprehensionHe viewed this situation as a sort of enemy, and he knew that he would have to be the victor.

Mor thought that this humanoid was like none he had ever seen, and he stopped walking toward it.  He saw that there were similarities in this being to other species he had come to know,  but his mind reeled, searching for a lock on the particular genetic markers that would tell him who he was dealing with.  There were  Vulco-humanoid ears, green skin with a gradient that flowed vertically, and antennae — but not those like ch’Thane, who was intent on the craft PoDo had arrived in; these were more pliant, reminding Hashar of a cartoon, or a comic.  He reached out to shake PoDo’s hand.  “Captain Mor,” he said plainly, and was pleased by PoDo’s identical response.  As their hands were about to clasp, Korr pulled forth his phaser.  “You’ll want to stop now,” he said,deep,  subtextual warning dripping from his voice.  “That’s ah–” he peered toward Mor.  “Not a good idea at present,” he said, nodding reassuringly.

ch’Thane’s attention was abruptly drawn from his intent analysis of the shuttlecraft.  “Why not?”

Korr’s gaze turned dark as he glared toward chThane.  “I’d imagine,” he said, “that you would prefer that your Commanding Officer remain intact.”

ch’Thane nodded.  “First contact with an unknown species, got you.”

PoDo’s head turned sharply toward the Andorian, whose structure was imminently familiar.  “Unknown Species?”  PoDo belonged to of a Federationites that had been around since the foundation of the structure.

ch’Thane looked wordlessly toward Mor, apologetic for having let the bit about the “unknown species” slip.

In PoDo’s mind, it had now been established that the Missouri had not truly expected PoDo, and briefly, he wished that he were still crouching in the shuttle.  Better yet, he wished that he were still heading toward the Missouri.  He hoped he had fallen asleep and were having some grand dream.  His heart, unfortunately, told him that something was different was going on.  Worse yet, his heart began to hint that what was happening in his life at the moment was what his life had been made to be.  PoDo was unsure eaxactly of what that meant, but he knew it was important.

Mor covered ch’Thane’s confusion with a completion of the intended handshake and the words, “Welcome aboard, PoDo, you’re in for quite a ride.”  The trill was thinking of the starship’s most recent universal jaunt, which had been a phasouniversal shift through dihydrogen oxide.  “Did you bring swim trunks?”

written by Mike Royer
Lieutenant JG Oren ch’Thane

Lieutenant Miyagi, sat at her station on the Endurance’s bridge, engrossed in her scans. Nothing was adding up about this. The Tetryon levels, the gravimetric distortions, everything had pointed to a significant disturbance, but now there was nothing. It was as though the whole thing had just faded and dissapeared from the space time continuum all together, in the blink of an eye. No after effects, no residual traces, nothing. The sensor diagnstic had come up negative, suggesting her instruments hadn’t errored. It was there and now it was gone.

The human glanced briefly over her shoulder to where commander Selar was seated in the command chair. The vulcan was very observant, sometimes a little too observant for her likeing. Sometimes she almost felt as though Selar had her on some form of special probation.

~ Nah, that’s silly.~ Miyagi thought to herself. ~ She acts that way around everyone, you’ve seen it for yourself. She’s just?~ The human tried find the correct word. ~ She’s very diligent. She has to be.~” Miyagi was a relatively new addition to the Endurance, having only been aboard for a couple of weeks. Although she was an experienced science officer, it was a bigger change than she had expected. Having served out her entire career prior on the same ship, she hadn’t realized how habituated she had become to life there. The differences between starships were subtle, but she still felt the change. It was going to be a while yet before she truly felt at home here.

Flipping over to the sensor records of the disturbance, she initiated a pattern recognition search with the library computer. It was important to first determine weather this was an isolated occurrence or something that had been previously documented elsewhere. If there were a record of anything even remotely familiar on file it could potentially prove to be the key to the whole mystery. She still had very little to go on, but at least it was a start. She didn’t have enough as of yet to perform any form of conclusive analysis and with no more signs of whatever it was that she had glimpsed, there wasn’t much else she could do except classify and store what little data she had already gathered.

~ I wonder if there could be any spatial distortions associated with this phenomenon?~ She thought to herself. ~ These tetryon levels certainly would indicate some form of subspace rupturing to be present.~

The computer beeped softly to indicate that the search had been completed and she consulted her panel for the results. Seeing nothing of value, she widened the search parameters.

~ If I could just narrow down the location, I could scan for subspace fractures…~

Her train of thought was suddenly derailed as she spotted an enormous EM spike registering on her instruments.

” Commander.” Miyagi said, to get Selars attention. ” You might want to come see this.”

The Endurance’s first officer stood and walked over to the science station.

” Yes Lieutenant.?”

” We never got an exact fix on the first event, but sensors just registered a second anomaly in the same viscinity. The sensor data is coming is still coming in, but whatever it is it’s big.” Miyagi directed her superior’s gaze towards the readings.

” Could this pose a threat to the outpost.?”

Alice squinted at her readings.” Hard to say from this distance, It looks like a massive explosion. I would estimate somewhere in the viscinity of 600 thousand isotons.” She paused to calculate something.” Yes, the outpost should be at a safe distance.”

The two officers exchanged glances for a moment.

” Reguardless, we should investigate.” Selar tapped her comm badge.” Captain Dyson to the bridge.”

PoDo stuck his hand forth and firmly shook Hashar’s.  Strongly resisting the urge to inquire about the trill’s suggestion of clothing suitable to swimming, he said instead, “I think we have a problem.”

As ch’thane’s attention was drawn from the shuttle to the interaction between PoDo and the Captain, Korr abstained from drawing a phaser at the alien’s odd reaction upon grasping the Captain’s hand.  Instead, he continued to watch the scene, knowing that something was about to happen.

Mor said, “I’m sorry?”  After PoDo repeated himself, Mor realized that he had let the handshake linger a moment too long, and was holding PoDo’s grasp beyond a reasonable handshake, the grasp heading into something uncomfortable.  The trill watched as the strange green creature spoke.

“I came here by direction, but I arrived in an unconventional way.”  PoDo felt he was not explaining clearly quickly enouch.  This feeling was underlined by a slight movement by Korr.  As the Cardassian stepped to one side of Mor into a full perspective from PoDo’s position, PoDo looked fully into Hashar’s eyes and said, “Something’s wrong, Captain.  I’m not sure if it’s with your ship, with me, or with the universe at large.  I’m confused, I’m afraid, and I want to know what’s going on.”

As Mor began to speak, PoDo flinched.   “Understood, Mister PoDo,” Hashar said.  “Also agreed.  Something odd is going on here.  Don’t,” he assured, “be afraid.  Your arrival is fortuitous,” he said, gesturing toward the recently downed shuttlecraft.  “We didn’t have to wait too long for you, so there has to be some reason you’re here.”

PoDo stared at the trill.  “So you admit you were not expecting me.”  After Mor nodded, PoDo added breathlessly, “Just as I wasn’t expecting you.”

Mor nodded again.  “So what can you do?”  He had a strange feeling about the past few months, and he had long since decided to just let go and let reality take him where it needed to.  He had never imagined that half of the things that had occurred during the last two years would ever have happened, but they had.  As such, he had tried to reason out what was going on.  One thing he was certain of: the ship was building itself a crew.  He imagined the increase in crew structure as a filament: at one end was the time when, after the original Captain had abandoned ship via shuttlecraft.  At one end was a time when the ship was fully staffed and would be tested.  He was comfortable for the moment, for the fact that the ship was not fully staffed.  Had had already come to the realization that Wayland would be as valuable an officer as the oddly pliant blue woman that had arrived with the Catian.  He was interested by the strange gift the universe had delivered the Missouri in the shape of a green humanoid, and wondered which cog PoDo was to be in the great gear.

PoDo said, “What can I do?”  He was caught off guard by the question, but answered honestly.  “My last assignment was as a chief shuttle pilot aboard the starship Endurance,” he said plainly.

written by Mike Royer
Ensign Alice Miyagi

=/\= Captain Dyson to the bridge. =/\=

Dyson looked up from the padd in his hands, as he heard his first officer’s disembodied voice calling him over the intercom.

“On my way.” He responded, getting to his feet an placing the padd flat on his desk. As he strode out of his ready room onto the bridge he looked around quickly, spotting the Commander standing near one of the science stations.

“Captain.” She nodded to him, acknowledging his approach.

“What is it Commander?” He inquired.

“Lieutenant.” Selar directed the captains attention towards the assistant chief science officer who was still seated at her station.

“Sensors have registered a sizable explosion approximately 2 light years from the Gamarcy outpost captain.” Miyagi explained. “We are still too far out to be sure, but I would estimate it to have been in the vicinity of a 600,000 isoton blast.”

The captain raised an eyebrow. “600,000 isotons? Seems a little excessive unless someone wanted to blow up a small planetary system. Is there any indication as to weather it was a natural occurrence.”

“Not as of yet, captain. There was something else as well.” Lieutenant Miyagi turned to her panel. “Here.” She directed his attention towards a particular set of readings and he stooped to get a closer look.

“Just a few minutes prior to the explosion long range sensors recorded these readings somewhere very near it, possibly at the exact same location. We could be looking at the catalyst sir.”

Dyson straightened again, considering the situation and looked to Selar.

“We have altered course to investigate.” She stated

Dyson nodded in acknowledgment.

“Have we made contact with either Gamarcy or the Missouri?”

“Not yet.” Selar looked towards Buie and was met by a subtle shaking of his head.

“They aren’t responding to hails.” He stated.

just then, Buie’s panel beeped, politely requesting his attention and he looked down to see what it was.

“Scratch that.” He said, plying his controls. “We appear to be receiving a recorded transmission from within the star cluster? Audio only? I’m putting it through.”

The bridge quickly became filled with the sound of comm static as well as some subdued tones that may have been someone speaking.

“Can you clean it up any further?” Dyson said in askance.

“I’m working on it sir.” Buie responded continuing to ply his controls.

written by Mike Royer
Ensign Alice Miyagi

The entire bridge crew listened as the urgent tone of a woman’s voice became audible amongst the spatterings and poppings of static.

” I repeat, this is the Gamarcy outpost requesting imediate assistance from anyone recieving this. We have taken heavy casualties and our life support systems are failing! If anyone can hear this please…” A loud electronic buzzing obscured her voice and then the bridge drew silent.

Buie looked up from his panel. ” The transmission just repeats itself from there.” He said solemly.

Dyson was quick to break the silence.

“You heard the woman people.” He ordered. “Conn, Set course for Gamarcy and Increase speed to maximum warp.”

Selar was no more than 2 steps behind him.” Initiate yellow alert.” She sounded.

They both stopped in the center of the bridge and Dyson tapped his comm badge. ” Dyson to sickbay.”

=/\= Sickbay here.=/\=

” Prepare to receive casualties. The Gamarcy outpost is in a state of distress.”

=/\= Understood, sir. Medical teams are being assembled.=/\=

” Acknowledged. Dyson out.” He tapped his comm badge once more to terminate the transmission.

” What is our new ETA.” Selar asked Ensign Kwong who was seated at the helm.

“At our present speed, we should arrive on station in 1 hour 52 minutes.” She responded.

Dyson turned to his first officer.

” It couldn’t have been the explosion we just witnessed. Even if it were of sufficient size that shockwave would have taken weeks to reach them.”

She nodded in agreement.” Perhaps there have been others. Mr Buie, have you managed to recover a time stamp from that transmission?”

” No sir.” He replied. ” The first few seconds of the recording including the time stamp were heavily distorted.”

” Make every effort.” She ordered, turning back to the captain.

” That message could be days old even weeks.” Dyson said to her as much as to himself, considering the gravity of what it could mean.

” Indeed sir. We may be too late altogether.” She stated flatly.

” Let’s hope that we aren’t.” He replied. Turning to face the inactive view-screen at the front of the bridge.

Slowly walking to stand next to the operations panel he looked to the officer seated behind it and enquired. ” What is Garmacy’s regular complement?”

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