-*- mode: text; fill-column: 79; -*-

	Well, I couldn't resist; I admit that I didn't try too horribly hard,
however.

-*

	I notice that my room is too bright, then burrow further back under my
covers.  After a few moments I decide I need to check the time, and poke my
head out again to look at my alarm clock.  It isn't there.  In fact, my room
isn't there, either, nor the vast amount of cruft that lives with me.  Instead,
I'm on a Trek set.  I'd be a lot happier with the present if I'd had a little
warning and more clothing on.  I sit up, rearranging my covers as I look about
the corridor.

	My new toy, Beast, a Mac PowerBook 520, is sitting on the floor at the
foot of my bed, as I'd left it, and it's power brick is still connected,
although the cord isn't plugged in to anything.  My pants, however, aren't
sitting in a lump at the head of my bed where I'd left them the night before,
so I scowl for effect.  After a few moments staring at things I gather myself
together and decide to go exploring.

	I pull my cloak off the top of my covers, piling the heavy wool on top
of Beast, and pull the poncho that was under it over my head.  Fairly well
covered I fold my bed up and dump it against one wall before pulling my cloak
on.  I open the clasp, an oversized safety pin, and slide the point through
the other grommet before stuffing Beast's power brick into one of the pockets.

	Picking Beast up I take one last look about the corridor, half-hoping
to find my glasses someplace about; I don't.  Heaving a final sigh I start up
the corridor, expecting to come out of it into a soundstage fairly quickly.  I
don't.

	Instead, I come across a young woman in a starfleet uniform with a
single pip.

	`Um, Ensign?'  She looks up at my question, `Where is this?'

	She blinks at me a couple times, `Voyager,' she answers before tapping
her comm badge, `Ensign Nameless to the Captain,'

	`Yes?'

	`We have a,' she pauses for a moment, `visitor.'

	`Visitor?'

	`Yes, she appears to be a young human woman, and is wearing a very
strange costume.'

	There is an appreciable pause, `Bring her to the bridge.'  I briefly
contemplate fleeing, then decide it wouldn't be worth the effort.

	`Follow me.'  I follow the ensign, wondering if I'd heard her name
right.

-*-

	Janeway takes one look at me, blinks, then asks, `Who are you and how
did you get on my ship?'

	I blink back, for I hadn't considered what I'd say to that question.
I almost answer `Mary Sue,' but decide on something I'd be more likely to
answer to, `Mizuno Suika, and I have not the foggiest how I got here.  I went
to sleep last night at home and woke up in the corridor on deck five.'

	`Where is your home?'

	`In the United States of America.  Last night it was in 1998, to boot.'

	`What?'

	`'S the truth.  Probably the Doc can take a look and confirm that my
quantum signature doesn't match the rest of this universe.'  She blinks at me
again.

	`Doctor, I'm sending a vistor down to see you.  I want you to check
her quantum signature for signs of displacement.'

	She turns to ensign Nameless, `Take miss Suika,'

	I interupt, `Suika is my personal name, Mizuno is the family name.'

	`Take miss Mizuno to sickbay,'  I decide not to object to the
``miss,'' since that might be bad for my health at this point, and follow the
ensign again.

-*-

	`Well, your quantum signature is quite stable and unlike any on file.
I can only conclude that not only are you from another universe, you are from
one further away than any yet encountered by Starfleet.'  I'd already come to
this conclusion, but I don't bother to point this out.

	I listen carefully as he reports this to the captain, and she tells
him to have someone take me to the guest quarters for now.  Ensign Nameless
has wandered off, muttering something about needing to get a couple hours of
sleep before the beginning of Beta shift, so I'm not surprised when Kes is
stuck with the task.

-*-

	`So, where are these quarters?'

	`Deck four.' she looks at me as she replies, so I elaborate.

	`Do you mind if we stop to get my bed on the way?  I left it rolled up
in the hallway on deck five.'

	Kes blinks at me, but tells the lift, `Deck five.'

	It takes a couple moments wandering around to get my bearings, but I
figure out where this lift is, relative to the one I took to the bridge, and
from that where I left my bed.  I look down on it, contemplate the pain of
moving it while trying to keep from dropping Beast, then realize I've another
person with me.

	`Kes, could you carry Beast for me?' I hold the small computer out
with both hands, and she takes it the same way, a little surprised by the
weight.  I gather my bed up under my right arm, my cloak falling awkwardly
askew.  My cloak is so heavy that it is a regular annoyance, but it is warm
enough to make up for that.  

	At the lift she requests the floor again, as I stand with my hips
cocked and the weight of my futon transfering down to my left foot.  I shift
uncomfortably, then the lift arrives, once again confirming my opinion that
lifts are only for when one has a load.

	Kes lets me in, has me talk to the computer so it can learn my voice,
and covers the basics of life on Voyager: rationing, replicators, security
measures.

	`Thanks for going out of your way like this.'

	Kes smiles, `It was no trouble.  Be sure to call if you have any
problems.'

	I nod, `Thanks, I will.'  After she leaves I flop back onto the bed.
I hop back out again very quickly, for it feels very much like I'd sink into
it if I stayed in it a moment longer.  I waver for a moment, then unroll my
bed and drop my cloak on top of it, vaugely glad to have the heavy garment off
my shoulders.

	I sit for a moment on my bed, centering myself, then start questioning
the computer.

	`Computer, is there a GUI or CLI available?'  I don't like talking,
and talking to a computer has always seemed a loosing proposition to me, since
humans need me to repeat myself far too often.

amazingly enough, the computer understands me on the first request, `A
keyboard can be retrieved from inside the sub-monitor panel.'  I look at the
almost featureless panel, noticing a single dent in the upper right hand
corner.  I push it and the panel pops open, revealing the expected QWERTY
pattern keyboard.  The mouse with it is a nice feature, as is the
wireless connection.

	After a few moments I realize I've finally found a user interface
worse than Windows.  After a good twenty minutes of working with the computer
on it, I've gotten to the point that I can actually get it to give me a
terminal window.

	Since I've finally gotten to the point that I can use the thing, I
get up and wander over to the replicator, and request a cup of coffee with
milk.

	`Unable to comply.'

	`Why?'

	`Person-designate Mizuno Suika has no ration account.'  How fun.

	I turn back to the computer, wondering how an FTL ship can be so
underpowered.

	After another few hours of playing with it, I've come to the
conclusion that either the people who design starships are clueless, or I'm
misreading somthing very badly.

	According to the specs I find, each of the cute little wall panels
dissipates 600 watts, forty watts when quesent.  Even better, the gravity
fields are generated on each floor, then canceled at the ceiling and
regenerated.

	The gravity field generators, according to the specs, can manage seven
decks each, which would allow one to cover all twelve decks of the ship with
two sets, for a projected energy savings of, quickly run the numbers in a
calculator program, about a third of what is being saved through replicator
rationing.  And the replicators are ridiculously inefficient.

	Why do the electronics eat so much power, though?

	After a little while I find that out: transtators.  Apparently the
things are good for making subspace communications equipment, and like
transistors in the radio age, came to be used for just about everything.
Unlike transistors, however, they eat a lot of power, even when they are
ridiculously small.

	After convincing the @#%@$#%@#$%#$@ computer that yes, I really want
its help in designing transistor devices, not transtator ones, I have it run
up a replicator pattern for a transistor based wall panel, and generate a
bunch of data off it.

	As a transistor device, the wall panel dissipates 25 watts of power,
and 1.4 when quessent.  That, I must say, is a heck of a lot better.  Even
with the power requirements to replicate one, it pays for itself in three
months, and could probably be conventionally constructed for a damn sight
less.  Very, very interesting.

	I decide that is enough for the night, stagger to my bed, arrange my
covers, and go to sleep.

*-

	I wake, thirsty, sweaty, and quite uncomfortable.  I get up, look at
the clock-display the wallscreen is showing, and blink a couple times before I
realize that it's just about four in the morning.  I stagger over to the
bathroom, start the faucet, and hope they don't have anything weird in the
water.  I suck water out of my cupped hands for a long couple moments, then
shut the water off and walk back to bed, falling into my futon and pulling
just the green flanel sheet over my head.

	Who should I talk to about this, anyway?  I guess the proper place to
start is with the engineering staff, since they'd be the people who'd know if
any of these modifications are actually safe.

	At least transistor based tech doesn't blow up for no good reason.

*-

	I wake up, look around the strange room, pick my glasses up off of
Beast's top, and notice my pants crumpled in a pile where I definately did not
leave them.  I give them a quick sniff anyway, then pull them on, readjusting
my glasses a little bit.  A cursory glance around shows a clean pair of socks
flopped next to my loafers, my bag of dirty laundry, and what appears to be
most of my clean laundry in a pile at the foot of my bed.  I shake my head and
put off worrying about it, my mostly empty belly complaining.

	`'Puter?'

	`Yes?'

	`Where can one go to get fed?'  I really need a ration account.

	`The mess hall is on deck two.'

	`Thanks.' guess I get to see how bad Neelix's cooking really is.
Probably it isn't all that bad, the fleet types at least have probably never
had to suffer through really bad food.

	I walk towards the door, and then realize I've a bathroom all to
myself, so I turn arround.  I strip down, stare at the assortment of knobs and
buttons for a moment, and set the thing for a sonic shower.  I frob the start
button, then step in.  It is a remarkable feeling, sort of shivery.  After a
remarkably short time I realize that I'm clean, down to my scalp, which is
usually quite a pain to manage.  Its quite nice, I must admit that.

	Dressed again, I wander my way to the door, remember that I've got a
full pile of clean clothes, turn around, and change, stuffing my dirty clothes
into the bag.  I look around to see if there's anything else I should muck
with, then exit.

	On the way to the mess, I absently count the silly little geegaws.
Looking around, it really seems that for the effort of refitting a single deck
one could easily exceed the power savings of the replicator rationing.  Of
course, I'm sharking, so I need to take my projections with a couple grains of
salt.  Or perhaps a pot of ramen. 

	I join the queue, gathering a tray, plate, silverware, cup, and let
Neelix serve me nice scoop of orange and yellow slime, some boiled vegitable,
and a glassful of strange green liquid.  The green liquid looks the most
appealing, of course.  After he finishes with that, he asks, `You're Mizuno
Suika, are you not?'

	`Yep.  Neelix, right?'

	He nods, `That's right.  You're from Earth?'  He looks really
interested, so I check to make sure that there's no one behind us.

	Seeing no one, I reply, `Yep.  Late 20th century North America.'  I
fish my fork out and poke at the boiled vegitables.  It tastes rather like I
imagine a boiled turnip would taste, seeing as I've only eaten turnips raw,
and the boiled thing is rather bland, with a very mild hint of a bite.

	`So,' he leans towards me, suddenly conspiratorial, `Do you know how
to cook?  No one else on board seems to.'  I smile at him suddenly.

	`Not very well, but I'm not all that bad at it.'  I stab another slice
of not-turnip and eat it quickly.

	`Oh, sorry, let's find you a place to sit.'  He leads me over to a
table, slides in opposite.  `I'm not all that bad of a cook by Talaxian
standards, but it seems the rest of the crew don't like my cooking.'

	I poke one of the yellow things, pull it carefully out of the orange
slime, and take a bite.  It's vaugely like a bell pepper, cooked in one of the
ways that I really don't like them.  The orange slime is thick, viscous, and
slightly sweet, a not altogether unpleasant contrast to the bell pepper.  `It
is different than the standard North American based food StarFleet seems to
favor.'  I opine, taking a drink of the green stuff, then blink, breathing
carefully though my nose for several minutes.

	`Do you like it?'  He seems very eager for my approval.

	`It is very strong.'  I manage after several minutes, the capsium burn
having finally died off.  Looking down at my tray I contemplate the food, then
carefully fish all of the not-turnips out of the water they were boiled in,
add them to the orange stuff, and pour a good slosh of the green stuff across
the top, then mix them a bit.  I take another bite, and it is much more
palatable, the green stuff having lowered the viscosity of the orange stuff,
the not-turnips covering for the bell peppers, and the bright capsium burn
covering the whole thing.  `Much better.'

	`May I taste?'  I gesture him to go ahead, scarfing quickly, since the
stuff has started to congeel as it cools, and seems like it will shortly go
from a little too warm to eat easily straight to cold and unpleasant without
stopping at "just right."

	`Hmm.  It is quite odd this way.  Are you sure the rest of the crew
would prefer this kind of thing?' he asks, a little puzzled.

	`Can't speak for the rest of the crew, but I think it would be better
with more kinds of vegitables in the orange stuff, maybe frying the roots
instead of boiling them, and something with less burn to drink.  Traditionally
green stuff is flavored with or made from sweet fruits instead of peppers.'

	`Would you mind helping me with dinner then?  It is so nice to finally
meet someone else who knows how to cook.  I mean, some of the Maquis have
cooked things, but they don't seem to enjoy the memories.'

	`This is a refined age in the Federation, it would seem, and probably
they don't like the memory that they learned about cooking after killing some
small relatively harmless creature to eat.'

	`What's wrong with that, so long as you eat the prey?'

	`I don't know.  Back home I was a vegitarian,' I pause at his raised
eyebrow, `A person who doesn't eat meat, because I do not feel that it is
appropriate to waste resources on producing food animals when millions of
people don't have enough food to survive on.'

	`What do you mean?  Wasn't there enough land to go around, so that the
wild creatures could maintain their numbers despite hunting?'

	`It isn't like that.  Food animals are grazed on public lands with
government subsidies, transported to large compounds where they are fattened
to the point of obesity in immense numbers, and then killed, cut up, and
shipped to local markets, where they are bought, as ready to cook parts, on
small disposible plates.'

	Neelix looks properly appalled.  `That's . . . '

	`Barbaric.'  Neelix nods agreement, the distraught look still on his
face.  `I believe if one is going to eat something, one has to be willing to
go out and kill it oneself.  I rather think I'm a bit too squeemish unless it
is a dire emergency.'

	I look down on my empty plate, `May I have seconds?'  Neelix looks
remarkably happy at the request, standing up quickly.

-*

	`Lt. Torres?'  The older woman looks up from the console, `I'd like to
talk to you for a moment if you're not busy.'

	`I've got a moment.  What can I help you with?'  She walks around the
console as I walk up to her.

	`Replicator use is being rationed because of the ship's energy
problems, right?'

	`Yes,' she looks at me, obviously wondering where this is going.

	`According to the information I was able to get on the ship's specs
from the computer, Voyager's artificial gravity generators are set up so that
on each deck, the field is generated, then canceled by the deck above and
regenerated.  The specs on the a.g. generators say the field they generate is
good for seven decks, which would, to me, indicate that one could get by with
two sets of generators, and some fill around the edges of the lower decks.'

	`That's right.'  B'Elanna's eyes go wide for an instant, then she
hurries back behind the console.  I follow her, peering over her shoulder as
she inputs commands.  `The ship has them in low-power mode, which turns off
every other deck's generators, because otherwise the inertial dampeners go
down.  If, however, we manually decouple the inertial dampeners from the a.g.
generators,'  She shakes her head and smiles broadly, `That's a ten percent
savings and four more ration slips a day for everyone.  You got yourself quite
a bounty, miss Suika.'  I'm really starting to mislike this constant "miss"
thing.

	`Bounty?'  I enquire softly, looking up at her.

	`Replicator rations equivalent to the amount of the energy saved in a
week.  That comes to, um, eight times 150, 1200.'

	`Wow.'  If it was ten a day, that's about, 70, 24 weeks, um, six
months worth.  `I've got another idea, as well, although there's a great deal
more effort required to implement it.'

	`What's that?'  B'Elanna turns from the console to look at me.

	`Before transtators became common another technology dominated,
utilizing transistors.'  B'Elanna nods at me to continue, `Transistors are
easy to make, work well even when ridiculously small, don't blow up becouse of
subspace stress, and take a very small fraction of the power of a transtator.'

	`How small of a fraction?'

	`At the limits of replicator efficiency, the savings are an order of
magnitude.  With nanoconstruction, two orders.'

	B'Elanna blinks at me.  `Two orders of magnitude,' she says in a
shocked voice.

	`Provided one can utilize nanoconstructors to process shrink the
things far enough.'  I clarify.

	`And they don't blow up.'

	`Not because of subspace flux, and, even if the magic smoke does get
out it does so with far less violence.'

	She blinks at me, again, `Magic smoke?'  Her tone is curious.

	`The stuff that makes all electronics work.  You can tell it is there,
because when it gets out the electronic device stops working.'  I smile at
her, to show that I know this is sillyness.

	`Oh, wow, I never thought of it that way.'  She smiles back fairly
broadly, `Do you think you could manage the project if I put it in your
hands?'

	I think about what I've little learned about nanotech for a moment, `I
should be able to have a prototype in two weeks, provided I can aquire or
construct proper nanoconstructors.'

	`I'll talk to the captain about it.'  B'Elanna turns back to her
console and taps a quick sequence of commands, then turns back to me, `Would
you like to come along?'

	`Sure.'  I smile back at her, then follow her from the room.

-*

	`I'll have Tuvok arrange your ration account and enter your bounty.  I
apologize for not dealing with this yesterday, but we so rarely have guests
out here in the Delta quadrant.'  There is a faint twinkle to Captain
Janeway's eyes as she says that.

	`I probably wouldn't have started looking if you had, so don't worry
about it.'  I smile back.

	`I'll also have Tuvok grant you administrative access to the ship's
computer, and I trust you know what that entails.'  I blink at her.

	`That if I'm malicious or not careful I can cripple Voyager in ways
you cannot recover from.'

	Janeway looks shocked.  `What do you mean?'

	`The ship's computer has security like a sponge, and you are giving me
root access.  If I decide to remove the operating system, such as it is, from
the ship's computer and then reboot it there is no way to recover out here,
since several directives state that one is not to back up the computer onto
media that can be accessed by anyone who isn't StarFleet maintnence, and the
traditional remedy in the Alpha quadrant is to ship a tech and backup media
out in a class nine probe to fix things.'  I make an ick face.

	Janeway suddenly gets a determined look, `Find a way to back up the
system so it can be restored, as well.  Thank you for bringing this to my
attention.  Dismissed.'

	`How did you know that?'  B'Elanna asks in the turbolift.

	`What, the bit about the 'puter?'

	`Yep.'

	`I asked.  I was looking at the computer system trying to figure out
how much power it was eating, and realized that everything on the ship is run
through the central computer, weapons, transporters, communications, life
support, everything.  As things stand, if the computer goes down we've only
got the life pods, and even then we probably would have to blast through doors
and things to get out.  If it was up to me, I'd seperate things out to a whole
bunch of transistor based systems, probably one per deck for the vital stuff
like life support and communications.'

	`That does seem to be a good idea.'  B'Elanna looks apalled at the
realization.

	`What, didn't you know that?'

	`In the Maquis our ships were built on the cheap, so each system had
its own little computer or farm of them.  I knew StarFleet ships had a
different type of computer system, but it isn't something that needs fixing
often, so I hadn't checked up on it.'

	`Deck Four.'  The computer announces in Majel Barret's voice.

	`I'm getting off.  Talk to you later?'

	`Sure.'

	A few minutes later I'm staring at pictures of various fusion
generators, trying to find one appropriate for my needs.  Finally I find one,
and walk over to the replicator.

	`One Honda model 2532 fusion generator.'  The unit almost fills the
replicator slot, but there's enough room to get my hands in around it.  I pull
it out, almost dropping it before I can shift my grip on it.  I lug it to an
empty corner, flip back the cover over the power button, and turn it on.  A
few seconds later the two bar graphs show that both the 240VAC and 120VAC
power has steadied, and I plug Beast's power-brick into one of the 120VAC
sockets, then plug the brick into Beast.

	`So, now that you've taken on this project, how are you going to do
it?'  I ask the room, `just jumping in with both feet seems a bad idea; you
remember what happened when Crusher let his nanites escape.  So, you need to
do something else.'  I walk about in circles, trying to figure out what to do,
kicking my clothing into a smaller pile as I go.  `It would be best to try
this out in simulation first . . . '  I stop, turn to face the center of the
room, and strike a pose, `The holodeck!'

	`'Puter, is there a free holodeck?'

	`Holodeck two will be unused for the next three hours.'

	`Schedule it.'  I glance at the clock; Neelix said he'd be starting
dinner at eighteen thirty, so, `set an alarm for eighteen, "Dinner
preparations."'

	`Acknowledged.  Alarm for eighteen hundred hours, message "Dinner
preparations."'

-*

	`It is now Eighteen hundred hours.  Scheduled holodeck time is
finished, Alarm message "dinner preparations."'

	`Computer save program state and unload.'

	`Acknowledged.'  The lab fades, replaced by the black and yellow grid
of an unpowered holodeck.

	I smile at ensign Nameless at the door, and she smiles back before
entering.  I start towards the mess, pleased with my initial findings.  Thanks
to the wonders of compressed time, I managed to pull off a full experiment
set, which did a good job of proving to my satisfaction that I could manage
this fairly safely.

-*

	`So, what are you planning on cooking for dinner?'

	`I was thinking of a nice leola root stew,' leola root, I discovered
this morning, is the not-turnip, `with a benari-fruit,' bell pepper, `salad
and boiled erlam.'

	`What's erlam?'  He shows me a container of translucent white grain,
almost like rice.  I fish a grain out, chew on it with a bit of vigor.

	`Let me try something, OK?'  Neelix nods, and I carefully rinse the
erlam, swishing it repeatedly in water until the runoff is clear, then fill it
to two knuckles over the top of the grain and set it aside to stand for a
while.  Turning to the vegitables I find a nice bunch of the green things that
were used to make the green stuff this morning.

	`What are these?'  I ask, pulling one out and slicing it down the
middle.  It has the texture of an apple, so I slice it into thin strips and
seed it.

	`Merlots.'  I slice several of them, then cut the slices into small
pieces.  I find another pot, fill it full of water, and add a whole bunch of
sliced leola roots, putting it on to boil.  I add the merlots, slice three
differently colored benari fruits, and add them as well.  I let this cook for
a while, knowing that there are other things one adds to green chile stew, but
unable to think of them.  I taste it, contemplate for a moment, then walk over
to the replicator.

	`Black pepper, ground, six ounces in a can.'  I pick the can up, walk
back over, and scoop a little bit into the stew.  A bit better, but I still
think it needs more things in it.  I start the erlam while I think about what
I can add.

	`What else do you have in the way of vegitables?'  He shows me the
shelf on the other side of the little kitchen area, and I come across these
nice squishy tomato like things.  I slice into one, eat one of the slices,
then cut six of the green and orange things into cubes before adding them to
the stew-pot.  After a few moments I taste it again.

	`Pretty good.'  I suddenly think of something, `'Puter, is anyone on
Voyager allergic to black pepper?'

	`No one on Voyager is allergic to black pepper.'  Good.

	Stupid thing is limited, however, `'puter, set equiv V'ger Voyager.'

	bleep of acknowledgement.

	`'puter, is anyone on V'ger, grumble, is black pepper toxic to anyone
on V'ger?'

	`Black pepper is toxic to Ocampa, K'tarians, and Andorians.'

	`'puter, do we have any Andorian crew on V'ger?'

	`No.'

	`Whell, at least I know to make a no-pepper pot next time.'  I scoop
up a spoonful of the stuff for Neelix, who makes an appreciative sound at it.

	`This is really good.  You think this will be more attractive to the
crew?'

	`It is a lot closer to traditional StarFleet fare.  Have all of the
vegitables been tested for safety with the crew?'

	`Yes, that was one of the Captain's requirements for all of our food
stock.'

	`No wonder the food is so misliked.  Even with a fairly homogenous crew
I would not be surprised if we are missing out on lots of perfectly good,
enjoyable food because it will react badly with one species on board or
another.'

	`That is an interestind point.  You should bring it up with the
Captain at our next staff meeting.'

	I check the erlam, notice that it has stopped boiling, and turn off
the flame before opening it.  It doesn't look quite done, and is a little
crunchy, but not inedible.  `Needed a little bit more water here,' I pass a
scant spoonful of the stuff to Neelix, `But it is very close to rice when
prepared this way.'

	`You're right.'  Neelix seems surprised, but happy.

-*

	Everyone seems to enjoy the food a great deal more than they had at
breakfast, which surprises even me.  Several people stare at me in abject
shock, murmoring to each other in low voices and quieting whenever I get
close.  I finally serve myself, take my tray over to a table and settling it
down before walking over to the replicator again.

	`Chopsticks, Japanese style, Ironwood.'  the little panel shows a
picture and a question mark, `confirm.'  I pick up the two pieces of pale
wood, knowing that they will quickly darken to a deep redish brown with use.
The merlots have softened to a consistancy much like a baked apple, the
capsium spread throughout the broth, and all in all it is very good.  I am
eating my crunchy erlam when someone's shadow slides across the table.

	`Mind if I sit here?'  B'Elanna asks.

	`Not at all.'

	She sits, attacking her food with a spoon, `Tastes rather like what my
father used to make.  Didn't imagine that was possible.'

	`Was he a good cook?'

	`Horrible.  I haven't had such a bad imitation of green chile stew in
a long long time.'

	`Thanks.'

	`I'm not complaining.  It reminds me of the good times, before he
left.' she has a sad, contemplative expression on her face.

	`When was that?'

	`I was, I think, ten or eleven.  The fights just kept getting worse,
until finally one night he came to my room, sat down on my bed, and just
stared out the window for a long time.  I reached out to touch his arm, but he
flinched so badly I think it was broken.  His face was all puffy, both from
the beating and crying.'  B'Elanna looks down at her plate, `He told me that
he'd always love me, but he just couldn't stay anymore.  I never saw him again
after that.'

	The pain in her voice makes me reach out and gather her free hand in
both of mine, squeezing it lightly.

	`Mine left when I was really young, about four.  He and my mom had
split up earlier, and when I was between four and five he packed me up and
took me off to visit Oregon and Washington state.  Of course, he didn't tell
my mom any of this, but about six months later my aunt came up from San
Francisco and kidnapped me back.  My mom came and got me from San Francisco,
and I didn't see or hear much from my father after that.'

	`That's pretty bad.'  B'Elanna squeezes my hand back.

	`Nah, not really.  I thought the whole thing was a great big
adventure, since I was so young.  I don't really remember him at all, just a
few bits of being on the road, hitchhiking, the squishy feel of the connector
between train cars, a few memories of hunting for blackberries along a ditch
or stream in Oregon.'

	`There's the most interesting rumors running around about you.'
B'Elanna changes the subject.

	`I sorta figured.  What are they saying?'  I smile at her, making no
effort to retrieve my hands, and she's continued eating one-handed.

	`Oh, the usual, speculation on who you are, envious comments about
your bounty, wondering about why you wear glasses, your clothes, the jewelry,
all that.'

	`What's the official word?'

	`There isn't any.'

	`No wonder the rumor mill is grinding so fast.  Guess I should whip
something up, huh?'

	B'Elanna just smiles, and continues eating.  I realize suddenly that
my continued holding of her hand could be read as an advance, and realize that
I don't mind the possibility.

-*

	`Doctor, I require sixteen medical nanites for my project.'

	The doctor looks up from whatever he is reading off a padd.  `What is
the nature of your project?'

	`Um, look in my personal filespace under project seven.'

	He goes a little bit glassy-eyed for a moment, then looks back at me,
`Interesting.  You will use the nanites to make a set of first-gen
nanoconstructors, which will construct a second generation, which will
construct a third, self-reproducing generation, and those will construct the
special constructors needed for your transistor project.  Let me pull them out
of stasis.'  He walks to the other side of sickbay, opening a panel and
pulling out a small white can, a duplicate of the one Crusher left open on the
Enterprise-D.

	I take it in both hands.  `Thank you, doctor.'

-*

	I wake the next morning to find Misa, Madoka, Ryouko, and Umi sitting
on my floor, complete with both monitors, the hub, cables, and my monitor
switch.  I sit on my futon for a moment, my green flanel sheet gathered about
my knees, then set about bringing up my little network.

	Luckly they were all shut down properly, so it is only a matter of
stacking them appropriately, connecting the cables, and powering them on in
the proper order, Misa, my current server, an Intergraph TD-4, then Ryouko, a
DECpc 466vlp which I use as a router, then Umi, my current pride and joy, a
DEC 3000-600lx, complete with a copy of DEC Unix and a PMAG-CA 1280x1024
24-bit framebuffer.  I log in, make sure everything is running properly, then
turn off the monitors and get ready for the day.

-*

	`'Puter, double-check the nanite programming.'

	`Programming is complete.'

	`Initiate construction sequence.'

	`Sequence initiated.'  I look at the oblong box set up in a corner of
cargo bay two, knowing that inside the nanites are now hard at work building
the first generation nanoconstructors.

`Display time to completion of prototype panel.'  On the front of the
box small red numbers start counting down from six days, twelve hours, fourty
five minutes and thirty-two seconds.  I leave it to work and walk out of the
cargo bay.

-*

	`'puter, Is there a free holodeck?'

	`Holodeck one is free until 1115.'

	Checking the clock tells me it's only 945, so, `I'll take it.'  I
continue down the hall, wondering what I could do with an hour and a half of
holodeck time, `'puter, are there any martial arts training programs?'

	`Yes.'

	Stupid puter, `limit to those good for beginners, shaolin-based.  How
many?'

	`One.'

	`Describe.'  I open the hatch for the Jefferies tube, and step in,
climbing up the ladder.

	`This program is sixty-seven years old, and has been contributed to
by Hirano Akihito, Tomas Ruiz Romero,'

	`elide list,' I tel the 'puter as I get to deck seven, and keep going.

	`It endevors to cover all aspects of traditional Shaolin-style Gung
Fu, from the most elementry level through to advanced concepts of chi
manipulation.  Rather than create a new program, if one feels like something
has been missed or covered badly, please submit patches to sht-prog@sf.gov.'

	`Ready program, beginner level, and start when I get there.'

	`Acknowledged.'

	I climb out of the tube and walk down the hall for a few moments.
Arriving at the holodeck I step through the door into a mildly humid
courtyard, stone blocks under my feet, and high walls on all four sides.
There is a gate on one wall, windows and doors on the other three.  In front
of me is a small, wizened old woman, standing straight, looking up into my
eyes.

	`So, you are my new student.  How serious about this are you?'

	`I do not know; I hope to prove myself adequitely so.'

	`You've got spunk, girl, so you may well succeed at this.  I've not
had a decent student since this ship set sail.'

-*

	`Time for you to go, child.'  the shimu tells me, and I somehow
manage to pull myself to my feet, turning towards the door, `You have done
well for a first class.  I look forward to teaching you more of the Art.'

	`Thank you, shimu.'  I walk to the door, and the program closes behind
me as the door opens.  Janeway is on the other side, clad in this ornate
Victorian gown.  `Nice dress; who made it?'

	Janeway pauses to look at me.  `I don't know, I bought it in a shop on
Deep Space five.'

	I reach out towards one of the ruffles, `What's it made out of?'

	`Egyptian cotton, it cost me a fortune.'

	I touch the hand made lace, `I'd belive it.  Have fun.'  I nod at
Janeway, and she steps into the holodeck.

-*

	`So, this gelpack malfunctioned, and Dolby replaced it, and now you
want me to join this remedial 'Fleet class?'

	`That's about it.'

	`hen na yats.' I mutter under my breath, pretty sure the translator
won't catch it.

	Sure enough it doesn't, `What's that mean?  It doesn't sound
complementary.'

	`It's Japanese.  Means `strange person' with a derogatory slant to
it.'

	`Oh.'  Janeway murmors softly, `Dismissed.'  I walk out of her ready
room, and take the Jeffries tube to deck four.  I sit down with the 'puter
keyboard, and start looking into 'Fleet operating protocols.  There's a whole
mess of them, but I manage to get through them before it is too horribly late,
then I start looking into emergency protocols, since they piqued my interest
as well.  Those are a real mess.

	Eventually I realize that I totally missed dinner, but its now Gamma
shift breakfast time, so I wander my way to the mess hall.

-*

	This morning's surprise is my sewing machine.  I manhandle the hundred
and fifty bounds or so of machine and tredle into a convienient corner,
folding it out and stringing the belt.  I look at the floor, think to myself
yet again that I really should put away my clothes, and look up washing
facilities for them, then wander into the shower.

-*

	I look around at the other members of my class this morning.  There's
a vaugely cute Terran, a bajoran kid, this person who I think is a Bolian,
and a guy I assume is Dolby.

	Tuvok says something about us all being there because we are not
meeting expectations, so I raise my eyebrows at him.

	`Or because Captain Janeway thought it appropriate,' he corrects
himself, and I smile at him.  He looks a little bit disconcerted for a moment.

-*

	`This is rot.'  Dolby stops running.

	`What's your problem?'  I slow to a walk as well so that I can talk to
him.

	`I didn't join up to run around in circles!  You can keep running if
you want, but I'm not going to.'

	`I didn't join at all.  Have fun.' and I start jogging again, huffing
my way down the corridor.

-*

	About twenty laps later Dolby comes up beside me, his lip swollen.
`Who hit you?'

	`Chakotay.'

	`Why?'

	`I told him I didn't want to do this the 'Fleet way.'

	`And he hit you for that?'

	`Well, he asked if I wanted to do this the Maquis way instead, then he
hit me.'

	`Ah.'

-*

	`So Tuvok made you run around all day?'

	`Nah, after thirty laps he made us climb around the Jeffries tubes,
then another ten kilometers in packs and 1.1G.  Dolby's still running.'

	B'Elanna smirks at that, `I thought he needed a little more disipline.
Got any rations left?'

	My fingers dance across one of the nearby panels, `Six hundred and
twenty two, why?'

	`I was wondering if you'd care to join me for some ice cream, and I
know I don't have enough rations for two people.'

	`Especially with one of them being the bottomless pit here.'  I smile
at her, and she reaches over and strokes my face.  I stumble at her touch,
then reply, `I'd love to.'

-*

	B'Elanna pauses for a moment, her spoon hovering over her ice cream,
`Those gelpacks have me worried, though.'

	`What's up?'

	`We can't figure out what's wrong with them.  They're kinda alive, and
they are just failing their self-diagnostics.'

	`You check for infection?'

	Blink blink.  `No.  I think you may have something there.'

	`'puter, check the location of all nanites and nanoconstructors.'

	`All nanites and nanoconstructors accounted for.'

	`So it ain't my fault, at least.'

	`I think you may have just solved our long-term problem, however.'

	`Really?'

	`Yeah, the gelpacks were nanoconstructed to begin with, but eventually
they will age and die.  With a little bit of care we could use some sort of
nanomachine to keep them healthy indefinately.'  B'Elanna smiles broadly,
quite a bit more relaxed than before, and digs into her ice cream with renewed
vigor.

-*

	This morning I get a whole boatload of cruft, apparently the partial
contents of my closet; several large cardboard boxes, a steel milk-crate full
of eight-track tapes, several bicycle wheels, some chain, a super-soaker squirt
gun, the tank off my Honda CB-77 SuperHawk, which hit me on the head the last
time it fell from the top of my closet, the box full of parts I took off the
SuperHawk, one of the tailcans, both headers, and a sewing machine case without
the machine.  I stack it all in the fourth corner of the room, sit myself down
and separate out my shirts, and stuff them into drawers.

	I take my shower with a great feeling of accomplishment, still
inordanantly impressed with how clean the sonics get me.

-*

	Rather than the promised torture, Tuvok leads us to the holodeck.
Dolby gets to be captain of the  Enterprise, looks like it's the D, and I get
stuck at tactical, a position for which I have no real clue.  Moments later we
get a distress signal from the Kobayashi Maru, and I have a better idea what
is going on.  I start typing franticly, glad that the 'puter can take commands
non-verbally.  We pop in to rescue the poor ship, and the expected pair of
backup ships arrive, although all three are Romulan this time, rather than
Klingon.

	Dolby contacts them, starts a bit of an arguement, and turns to me in
anger when I shut him off.

	`We're in the Neutral Zone, we want to rescue that ship, and we want
to get out of here with our hides intact.  Right?'

	`Right.' Dolby reluctantly agrees.

	`Locking on tractor beam, dropping subspace flux mines, tractor beam
isn't holding.'  I check, this is indeed the Enterprise-D.  I override the
helm, having the computer pull us to within two hundred meters of the
Kobayashi Maru while the Romulans screach dire imprecations at us and the
computer simulates a broken comm system for them.  The grapnels slap against
the Kobayashi Maru's hull, and another dozen commands get the tractor
reconfigured to push, keeping the cables tight.  I switch over to helm, and
slowly accelerate us towards the edge of the neutral zone, the cables close to
their strain limit as the Romulans finally decide we are not going to listen
to them and move to attack.

	The flux mines chose that moment to decide the Romulan IFFs are close
enough, and go.  All of the consoles blow, sending shards of glass, plastics,
and metal everywhere.  The simulation ends, and Tuvok enters the room.

	`You did far better than I expected, and might have beaten the
senario, had you not misjudged the power of your mines.'

	`I did not misjudge the power of my mines!'  I reply in annoyance, `I
misjudged the amount of time it would take us to run away.'

	`You would have had time had you not doubled back to rescue the
Kobayashi Maru.'

	`Yeah, but then we would have failed in one of the mission
objectives.'

	`Using the docking grapnels when the tractor beam would not grip
properly was . . . ingenious.'

	`Didn't work.' I dismiss the comment.

-*

	My whole class is glaring at me; after talking to me Tuvok procceeded
to read them all the riot act for not reacting as fast.

	Tuvok wanders off, seeming quite upset.  I look around, then head down
towards Sickbay.

	`They are sick.'

	`What's causing it?'  B'Elanna asks him.

	`I don't know.  If I did, would I be sitting here moaning about it?'
The doc grumbles as I enter the room.

	`Isn't there a biofilter on the transporter?'  The doc looks at me
like I'm nuts, then nods.

	`So we can set the transporter for a gelpack, transport it with the
filter set, and whatever is making it sick will be left behind,' the doctor
enthuses.

	`Unless it's one of those funny water molecules like the Enterprise
encountered.'

	`Well, at least it should be a start.'  B'Elanna says, and I sit about
on one of the beds as the two of them putter about.  After a few minutes they
try the transport, and end up with a sample.  While they putter about at the
other end of the room I scan the sample, and tell the puter to scan for a
match in the recent sensor data.

	A couple seconds later it pops up with an answer, a cheese picked up
about a month ago.

	`Well,' B'Elanna looks up at me, `If this is the infectious agent, it
came from a cheese picked up last month.  I seem to recall it's kinda smelly
too.'

	Tuvok comes in, reports the same possibility, and tells me that class
will resume in cargo bay three in another twenty minutes.

	I hang out, watching B'Elanna for another fifteen minutes, while they
determine that the cheese is indeed the infectious agent.

	`Fever.  A body works to cure a disease through fever.'

	`Wouldn't it be simpler to just set the sensors to lock onto our cute
little viroids and beam them into space or something?'  I ask, then head down
to the cargo bay.

	I don't pay adequite attention, so I've no idea what's going on, and
I've not yet worked up the gumption to ask, so I just stand around watching
the others mill about.

	Then the door slides shut and locks, while strange gasses burst from
the side wall.  I remember the protocol for such a situation, so I drop back
to the emergency supply cabnet at the back of the room, pull out a mask, and
pull it over my head, but not into place.  I pull masks for the rest of the
group, and walk back over.

	Tuvok looks totally nonplussed, but takes a mask, pulling it on like
mine.  Everyone else gives me a variant on the evil eye, but each of them
takes a mask anyway.  Tuvok sends Geren up to the catwalk to play with one of
the panels, and the door opens as several more pipes burst, turning the air a
pretty green color.  Someone mentions that whatever the green stuff is, it's
toxic, so I pull my mask into place and activate it, frobbing the proper
button on several other masks since the others don't seem to know how to work
them.  Dolby turns to go after Geren, but Tuvok starts in on him, so I head up
the ladder.  Geren's mask is down, but not activated, so I frob the button and
pick the kid up.  He's ridiculously heavy, but I manage to get him back to the
ladder by the time Tuvok gets to the bottom of it.

	`Can you catch him?'  I call down.

	`Yes.'  I look at the streaming green fumes behind me and carefully
lower the kid over the edge, then let go.  Tuvok manages to catch him safely,
and I slide down the ladder, bashing my fingers on the supports three times.

	We get to the door, but the emergency systems won't let it open, which
I'm pretty sure is a damn good idea.  I huddle against the deck plate as the
ship heats, then turn to Tuvok.

	`Y'd better tell the others we're OK.'

	Tuvok looks nonplussed, but frobs his com badge and mutters stuff I
don't pay attention to.  I lay on the coolish deck plates, sweating profusely,
for several minutes.  After a while I realize it is cooling off, and the auto
repair systems finally kick in.  The air clears and the door pops open, and I
drag myself out the door.

	`'puter, was that green gas skin, grumble, abosorbable though skin.'

	`Yes.'  I frob the button to disactivate the mask, and everyone
follows suit.  I pull it off and trudge off towards sickbay.

-*

	Misa bought it.  Umi and Ryouko seem to be OK, but Misa's dead.  I
don't get a video signal when I power her on, no beeps, and the sound card
doesn't make the crackle noise it normally does when I power her on.  I shut
Umi and Ryouko down, saddened by my loss.

	After a moment I get up and head back towards sickbay.

-*

	`Why did you decide on that course of action?'

	`It seemed the proper course.'

	`Why?  What advantage did heating the ship beyond her tolerances have
over scanning for the viroids and beaming them off the ship?'

	The doc looks nonplussed, `um.'

	`Geren almost died in cargo bay three because none of the others
followed the proper emergency protocols, most of the ship's systems have had
their lifespan shortened by six years because of the heat-stress, Misa died
and probably most of the plants on the ship have been cooked so badly that
they won't survive because of your choice.  Was there any real reason to do it
this way?'  I know my voice isn't as stable as I'd prefer, but . . .

	`Who is Misa?'

	`She was my Intergraph TD-4.  Hopefully my disks aren't fried, but
still!'  I shake my fingers at the doc, then storm out of the room.  I stare
at the corridor wall for a moment, then punch at it, pulling the blow before
it hits, then blinking a couple times to try and get my emotions under
control.  She's just a puter, and I can probably resurect her easily enough.

	Yeah, but.

	`You OK?'  B'Elanna asks, putting her hand on my shoulder.

	`Yeah, I lost one of my 'puters.'

	`I'm sorry.  Maybe I can help get her going again.'

	`Maybe.  Want some ice cream?'  I start towards the mess, B'Elanna
beside me, her hand still on my shoulder.

-*-
Yay! first chapter done!

-*-

	`Ha-chuu!' I sneeze, setting off a chain reaction troughout the mess.
This, of course, never happens in the show.  They never meet a new alien or
person from another universe/time and promptly catch all the nasty viruses that
each one doesn't have.  Who woulda guessed that I'd have sixteen strains of
virus that no one else on the ship has any immunity to?  Of course, I picked up
four strains myself, so everyone on the ship, other than the doc, is sick.
I'd've thought that only the humans, and perhaps the Bajorans, would have been
affected, but no such luck.  It seems that everyone on board is vulnerable to
at least one of the ones I brought here.  Eighteen people are in sickbay with
the flu.

	I look up at Beast's screen, glad I'd managed to cruft together a
wireless ethernet setup, and a small fusion power-pack to replace her battery,
since otherwise she wouldn't be nearly as useful to me.  I glance down at the
power-indicator, which thoughfully shows 9:59 as the remaining battery life,
the limits of the display.

	We didn't manage to resurect the TD-4, but my game console showed up
the next morning, and my disks weren't fried, so I managed to bring Misa up on
my AMD-K6 266, which is definately not the fastest beast ever made, but a good
deal faster than my TD-4 was.  A second ethernet card in ryouko, and a good
deal of digging and crufting together of weird parts, both hardware and
software, allows her to firewall between my little network and the ship's
computer, and while it isn't X, MacOS sure provides a nicer interface than the
PADDs.

	Anyway, the panels are coming along nicely; we've managed to replace
about seventy of them since I started the project, and are currently working on
panels to replace our spares, then we'll go back to replacing the ones already
installed.  The pulled panels are being fed into the material hopper as they
are replaced, so the material cost is a good deal lower than I'd expected,
actually.  The Captain's authorized me to increase our production capacity at
my discression, so I really need to figure out how much capacity I can justify.
Something between a sixteen and thirty-two fold increase is the most I can
probably manage; I'm currently leaning towards twenty-four.

	`Hey, Suika,'  B'Elanna drops into the seat oposite my position, so I
close Beast's top, my thoughts flickering gladly across the knowledge that I'd
disabled the little switch that used to put her to sleep when I did that.

	`Yeah?'  I'm glad B'Elanna shook that cold she caught so fast.

	`We found something, and we thought you might be able to tell us
something about it.'

	`What is it?'

	`A truck.  Acording to the computer, a 1936 Ford truck.'

	`I'll come take a look.  Let me just finish these.'  I indicate the
pile of leola-root hash browns on my plate, then dive in.

	Five minutes later we're walking into cargo bay one, and in the middle
of the room is one of the more decrepit looking trucks I've ever seen.
[haven't actually seen this episode ;_; --S]  It is rather battered, looking
much like it was in a nasty wreck sometime in its recent past, then spent the
next couple months hauling dirt.  Other than that it is a fairly pretty thing,
all told.  Apparently the ugly style came in somewhat later.

	`Cute.  Where did you find it?'

	`Outside.  We followed a rust-trail to it.'  I fish my tricorder out of
the back pocket of my jeans and run a quick scan, then crawl under it.

	`The freeze-plugs blew, but that seems to be the only major damage.
I'm surprised the tires are in such good shape, rubber doesn't generally take
freezing well.  Most of the hosing is shot, though.'

	I pull myself out from under it, and Paris looks at me in shock.  `You
know about cars?'

	`Yeah.  VWs mostly, but bits about other kinds.'  I fish my tricorder
out again, tracing the poor thing's electrical system.  `We could start it the
way she sits, but if you want to keep her from being too badly damaged we need
to replace the hoses, the freeze-plugs and coolant.'  I'm baffled by the way
the battery still has a charge, and is still intact for that matter.

	`Where'd the trail lead from?'  I ask, scanning to see if I can pick up
anything intersting off the quantum signature.

	`It goes two ways, and we can't be sure which would be the originating
side.  One of them is in the general direction of Earth, though.'  B'Elanna
answers, as I give up on that and start trying to figure out why the leather
seats haven't disintegrated.  It isn't that there are any nanites or anything,
so I try for a date on it.  Through new techniques that rely on quark decay or
something equally arcane one can now get an age to within two years.  According
to that the thing is only a hundred and ten years old.

	I breath in through my nose a couple times, trying to either get the
itch to go away or trigger a sneeze.  I manage the second, `Ha-chuu.'  I glance
at the inside of my elbow, then turn back to the others.  `I dated the leather
of the seats.  That is about a hundred and ten years old.'

	`Meaning?' the captain asks.  I look around the room, fully expecting
someone to be able to answer for me.  All I see are blank faces.

	`Time dialation.  Probably most of its trip from the alpha quadrant was
spent at near the speed of light.'  I look at the truck, `How fast was it going
when you found it?'

	`Um, about twenty kilometers a second, relative.' Paris answers,
staring at the truck, `How did it deccelerate?'

	`Maybe they used, no, that would have accelerated it further.'  I shake
my head.  `Maybe they wanted to keep it for some reason, and thought it would
degrade too quickly on a planetary surface.  Elifino'

	I sit against one wall, listening to the others chatter, watching
B'Elanna, and wondering if I could talk the Captain out of the truck, although
Paris seems fairly interested as well.

	All of the sudden a strange patterned clicking starts from the truck,
and I realize that Paris has turned on the radio.  `'Puter, analyze clicking.'

	After a couple moments the computer gets back to me, `Most likely morse
code, ess oh ess, repeated at regular intervals.'

	Turning my attention back to the others I find that Paris has come to
the same conclusion, so, `'Puter, calculate point of origin.'

	`Um, about six parsecs thataway.' and one of the little lights on the
other side of the cargo bay flashes.  I smirk, glad I'd crufted together a
useful responce to inadequite data, in this case come to a conclusion based off
it and present it as not terribly reliable.

	I get up and wander over to the others, `So, are we going to go look
for the truck-thieves?'

	`What?'

	`Well, this truck and its owner both vanished from Earth in late 1937
according to the 'puter, and it is unlikely a voluntary departee would have
brought his truck with him.  The SOS lends some credibility to that, so.' I
pause, then point at one wall with my chin, `The 'puter guesses the SOS is six
parsecs thataway.'

	`I think we should investigate this,' the captain turns to me, `How far
is a parsec?'

	`2.2 light years or so.'  I didn't bother to look up the measure, just
told the 'puter to use it when guestimating.

	`Then about six days.  That estimate will improve as we shift position,
right?'

	`Of course.'  I punctuate this with another sneeze, and a muttered, `I
hate being sick.'

-*

	`Your estimate was off.'

	`Oh?'

	`A parsec is 3.258 light years.'

	`OK, thanks,' I smile up at the captain, feeling a little embarrased.

-*

	`Suika to Captain Janeway.'

	`Yes?  We're a little busy here.' She sounds a little annoyed.

	`Do we want to expose anyone who may be down there to over four hundred
years worth of new deseases?'  There is a long moment's silence, then someone
sneezes.

	`Belay that last order.'  The flashing blue lights go off.

-*

	`Well, there are about seventy thousand types of NBC and NBCS armor in
the public database, and another four thousand in the black databases.'  I was
amazed that such a peaceful peole as the federation have so many different
kinds of NBC (nuclear, biological, chemical) and SNBC (space, nuclear,
biological, chemical) warfare gear on file.  Once I found them, I was amazed
that they are not used more often, since even some of the ones in the public
databases can provide 0.6 seconds worth of protection against a starship's main
weapons.

	Janeway looks over sharply at that comment, `Black databases?  You have
access to the _black databases_?'
`Yeah.  You told me to find a way to back up the 'puter, so I copied all its
data onto a transistor-based system, and I discovered them when I tried to find
out why there was six hundred and fifty terabyte that I couldn't access.'

	`How did you get access to them?'

	`I called 'em up in less to see if I could figure out what the heck
they were, and the bozo who set 'em up had the password thoughtfully at the
beginning of the file, complete with a label of "password".'  I shake my head
at the foolishness of that, `anyway, I had the 'puter dig through them and cull
the best.  I've got them in my filespace, and, as one would expect, all ten of
them are from the black databases.'  I smirk, `I took the liberty of marking
out the ones I favored.'

	`The "HardSuit" design is interesting, but why did you put a smiley by
it?'

	`Because,' I sit down on the floor next to her, `According to the
information linked to it, they were designed by a dimensionally displaced woman
named Sylia Stingray, and the five prototypes were piloted by her and the four
young women who were displaced with her.'  The captain raises her eyebrow at
me, `The amusing thing is that I recognized not only the designs but the names.
In my universe there was an eight episode OVA series about them.'

	`Really?  Did they end up serving with distinction on the original
Constitution class Enterprise?'  She turns from her terminal for a moment to
look at me, then return to what she's reading.

	`No, one died at the end of episode 5, and the rest of them continued
to fight the megacorp that had, grumble,' I say, new found habit, `that they
had been fighting.  What happened to these five, anyway?  I notice that their
records aren't in the public databases, and the black database only has
information about them up to the incident with V'ger,' at the captain's raised
eyebrow I elaborate, `the person built out of the Voyager VI probe.  Sylvie is
a lot more advanced in a number of ways than the Soong type androids, yet
boomer technology never spread.'  I pull out a piece of paper and scratch down
"V'ger, wormholes, STTMP." and stuff it in my pocket.

	`I have no idea.  Of course, in a way, the information did spread.'

	I nod acknowledgement, I did read it after all, `But not in any useful
way.'

	`True,' her fingers tap six of the designs, `build three prototypes off
of each of these.'

	I wiggle my fingers in the air as I run the numbers, then check them.
`I'll need another ton of iron and fifty pounds of titanium.'

	`Replicate what you need.'

	`It'd be easier to just snag an asteroid of the proper composition and
extract the minerals I need.'

	An eyebrow raises, `And how do you propose doing that?'

	`Nanoconstructors.  If we find the right asteroid we can just blow a
bit off, seed the bit with nanoconstructors, then gather the separated minerals
into a hold.'

	`Do you have an asteroid in mind?'

	`No, but unless things are very different here finding one should not
be a big problem.'

-*

	`Found one.'  I lever myself up, stagger against B'Elanna's console as
my ankle flops underneath me, my leg having gone to sleep again.

	`Size?'

	`Exactly what we need, no blasting necessary.'

	I look at the floor.  `I just had an idea.'

	`Which is?'

	`Why bother gathering the material into the ship when we can just
construct the suits /in situ/, so to speak.'

	`We'd need to seed our rock with a lot of carbon,' she murmors,
examining a set of scans, `found one.  'Puter, check if we have adequite
amounts of the needed minerals for the construction in,' she turns away,
sneezes, wipes her hand down one pant leg, then continues, `the chosen rocks.'

	`The mineral composistion is adequite for the chosen constructions.'

-*

	`Another week.'

	`Very well,' the captain sighs softly.

	`Still no responce from the planet?'

	`None.  It's beginning to look like whatever's repeating SOS is the
highest piece of technology on the planet.'

	`Any luck with the sensors?'

	`None, other than the couple of cities we can pick up with vislight,
and the probably human people.  There isn't anything new.'

	`Oh, captain, I was thinking about how short our sensor range is.'

	`Yes?'

	`If we deployed a series of probes at the edges of our current sensor
range, each of them,'

	`With the same range as one of Voyager's sensor clusters, and warp
drives capable of keeping up with the ship we could double our current sensor
radius!'

	`And, if we can work out some method of positioning the data properly
we can use the whole net as a multi-lightyear inferometer.'

	The captain's eyes get really large at the thought.

-*

	`So, me, you, the captain, ensign Nameless, and Tuvok are to be the
away team?'

	`Yep.  The extra protection of the SNBC suits will let us take a
shuttle down, and they should protect the natives if they're human.'  B'Elanna
looks over my shoulder at the expanded costruction facilities.
Nanoconstruction of solid things is just too expensive, time wise, so part of
the upgrade is a full set of computer-controlled gross manipulation tools, the
equipment now taking up almost a third of what little clear space remains in
the partly converted bay, the plants blocking them mostly from view.

	`I've got the training programs for the suits ported, but we're all
going to need a lot of 'deck time,' I check the schedule, `and this can't be
done in our quarters . . .' I trail off, suddenly plotting.

	`Portable holodecks?'

	`No, too expensive.  Small single-person units, probably about three
meters in diameter, transistor-based as much as possible . . .'

	We have a prototype by morning.  It isn't pretty, and without its skin
the holograms are a little see-through, but it works.  The Honda generator we
used for the prototype is a little stressed by the a.g. units, and we will need
to use non-ferrous materials for our final version, since the prototype's steel
frame warps the holograms whenever they get too close, but we should be able to
produce a dozen production models in two days, which will give us three days
between their completion and the SNBC suits being ready.

	And, it turns out, they will be "portable."  Two people will be able to
roll one down the hallways, and they almost fit through crew cabin doors.
Probably the first bank will be set up in cargo bay 1.

-*

	I pull a curved sheet of aluminum out of the manipulator bay, walk it
over, and set it into place on the side of the holopod currently under
construction.  I tack it into place with a couple screws, then roll the
completed assembly onto the special jig built for the things.  The isolation
field snaps up as I get my fingers out of the way, and I sag back against the
wall, glad to be finished for a few minutes.

	`Eight more to go,' I tell the room.

-*

	`Careful!' I hear B'Elanna call from the other side of the balky three
meter sphere.  It's the fourth one, and I'm contemplating asking the captain to
asign us some helpers to get the other two that we have completed to cargo bay
one.

-*

	`Blue, enemy fighers, twelve high.'  I call, diving towards them from
'above.'  B'Elanna, eight thousand km 'below' shifts to intercept, the two of us
shifting into warp for a fraction of a second, then half-kg railgun rounds blow
through the enemy craft.  I turn towards the third battle pod of the flight,
but B'Elanna's already holed it, and it blows up as I watch.

	`Scenario complete.'  The hardsuit fades from around me, and I float in
jeans and a tee-shirt, surrounded by stars.

	`Open door.'  There is a faint whine as the door to the holopod levers
itself open, and a grey path appears at my feet.  I walk out of the pod, and
lean back against it for a moment as the others come out.

	`So, what do you think?'

	`They are an effective training tool.  I noticed that there are
provisions for auxiary systems for several of the suit designs.'  Tuvok notes,
standing at loose attention.

	`Yep.  I think I can convince the captain to let me construct several
of them.  The MotoSlaves, in particular, seem a very good idea.'

	`I noticed that the Binar "Space Marine" armor was greyed out.'

	`Mm-hmm.  That requires modifications to the pilot.  I intend to start
the process after this away mission.'

	`Are the benefits worth the risk?'

	`It is transistor-based technology, and will allow a much closer
interface between a pilot and computer systems.  Barring unforseen difficulty I
should be able to increase my general productivity by thirty percent.' *for
half the effort expended.*  I neglect to say.

	`That might be,' Tuvok suddenly gets an acutely uncomfortable look, for
him, and with a curt, `Excuse me,' wanders from the room.

	I wonder what is bothering him, then turn, `Ensign?'

	Nameless looks up from where she is studying the record of her last
mission, `Yes?'

	`Have you chosen which type of armor you want, yet?'

	`Yeah, I have.'  She waves me over, `the "Rivant" type, with the warp
auxiary pack.'

	`The auxiary pack won't be available until I can convince the captain
of its usefulness, but I'll have one of the Rivants modified for you.'

	She smiles, `Thanks.'

	`So, can we start building some MotoSlaves?  That last fight would have
gone badly without them.'

	I turn to look at the sound of B'Elanna's voice, `The warp baffles are
still being worked on.  I think the 'puter will be done with them in a couple
days.'

	`Maybe if you had some more 'puter time you could get this stuff done
faster.'

	I smile up at the engineer, `That is a really good idea.'

-*

	`Approaching the planetary radiation belts.'  These are the reason that
transporters won't work for getting to the surface.  They sparkle off the
shuttle's shields, great arching flares of greens and blues.

-*

	`So, this is the faded red Lockheed Electra, hmm?'  I scan it, check
the tail number against the ones I'd loaded into my new hardsuit's computer.

	`Miki, is it?'

	`Hai, Earhart-san no hikouki desu.'  As expected, speaking in Japanese
makes the normally obnoxious habits of the ship's computer more bearable.  I
also reworked the UI a bit, which makes for a much less obnoxious beast, at
least for me.  Apparently some people like the old interface.

	`So, we have Amelia Earhart's plane.  All of the cities have human life
signs in them, and nothing that seems likely to be an alien intelligence.  Off
the top of my head, someone snatched a buncha people, brought 'em here, and got
killed by 'em,'  a movement catches my attention, `I'm gonna go chase a lizard,
call if you need me.  Ensign?'  Nameless slips away from the group to accompany
me.

	I slink towards a medium-sized green bush, trying to make as little
noise as possible in four hundred kilograms of powered space armor, the
ridiculously tall heels altering my gait quite a bit.  Nameless is in a
different kind of armor, smooth flexible neoprene-like material with a
tight-fitting helmet and warp capable flight-pack. We manage to sneak up on the
prey, and I drop to one knee so I can observe it better.

	The creature looks a great deal like a gekko or alligator, or perhaps
some small dinosaur.  It sits up on her back legs, which are longer and thicker
than her front ones, and looks at me with a great big pair of grey eyes.  Her
thick tail floats over the ground as she walks towards me, holding some
insectoid prey item in her hands.  She takes another bite off the prey item,
which was originally almost half as large as she is.  I note the large pads on
her feet, quite like a gekko's, and fight down the urge to capture the creature
and hassle her.

	She eats the final bit of prey, then walks unconcerned up the
mirror-smooth surface of my hardsuit.  I watch the delightful creature for
a while, wondering why she decided to climb me.  After a moment she hops off,
taking the almost full meter to the ground in a single bound, then runs towards
a large clump of rocks.  I trigger a magnification, and note the large cloud of
flying insectiods there, understanding her behavior.  Upon arriving she
promptly catches another insectoid, and starts crunching away at it.

	`Trouble!'  Nameless looks up at me when the word comes over the com.

	`Miki?' I ask, and she promptly comes up with a tactical display.

	I charge into the fray, catching the attackers by surprise, and
separate one from their group.  I stun him, tuck him under one arm, and flit
back to the shuttle, once again impressed by how useful impulse engines are.

	Nameless, behind me, stuns one of them and leads the rest off, laughing
loudly as the beam weapons repeatedly fail to do any damage to her armor.  I
guess being nigh invulnerable, or at least a damn sight closer,  will do that
to a security officer.

	The prisoner actually turns out to be a girl, perhaps seventeen by her
scans, once we get the camoflage off.  I scan that very carefully while the
captain talks with the prisoner, and occasionally ask a question of Miki or
B'Elanna.

	I've got three ways to adapt it to the SNBC suits by the time the
captain gets some sense out of the prisoner.

	The prisoner's people are descended from "The 37s", a bunch of people
plucked from Earth in 1937, brought here to labor at the direction of a group
of people called the "Briori", who they mistook us for.

	They'd driven the Briori off a while back, and now, fifteen generations
later, they were finally getting cities built and things.

	Fifteen generations?  That's a hundred and fifty years at the
inside . . .

	I flit over to the Electra, and do a quick dating on it as well.  It is
almost five hundred years old.

	`I'd advise returning to V'ger quickly,' I report when I get back, `The
Electra is almost five hundred years old.'

	`Oh dear.'  Tuvok's mild comment is almost emotionless.

-*

	`Well, it would seem that time passes about five times as fast for
several parsecs around this planet.  We're marking it down as a spatial anomaly
and we'll worry about it if anyone makes it out.  Even with the temporal edge
they have, I doubt anyone will be leaving this system for a long time.'
"because they're such delightfully rude people," the captain doesn't add.

	I nod to the captain when she finishes her speech, then walk to the
Jeffries tube and head towards deck four and my quarters.

-*

	`Um, B'El-chan, did you get anything out of those people about why the
Briori went so far out of their way for slaves?'

	`They seem to think it was a personal grudge against those captured,
although I don't know,' B'Elanna shakes her head, `And what's with the
"B'El-chan"?'

	`Um, it, well, the "B'El" is a shortening of your name, and the "chan"
is to indicate that you're someone I feel safe using a diminutive with.'

	`Oh really?' she asks archly, her fingers suddenly stroking my arm.

	I nod dumbly, too shocked to speak, as her fingers swirl the short hair
on my arm.

-*

	`Grr, this doesn't make sense!'

	`What?'

	`If it took two hundred years for that truck to get there, then
whatever brought them must have traveled at,' I call up dc, "70000 200
/p<ret>", `350 years, grumble, times the speed of light.'

	`Oh, yeah, you didn't get this at the Acadamy . . .'
-

	`So the warp factor is orthagonal to velocity?'

	`In so many words, yes.'

	`Then why don't we rig the ship for warp seven, accelerate up to near
the new speed of light, and coast most of the way home in a time-dialated
haze?'

	`I don't think anyone's even brought it up as a possibilty.'

-*

	`It's a good thought, but it would slow our reactions, which would be
dangerous out here.'

	I contemplate the recent logs, and nod.

-*

part two done, I guess, 3165 Confusion 53
ed 3165 Confusion 58

-*

	`Wait, I think I saw this episode,' the others look to me expectantly,
even patchy half remembered information that may or may not match what will
actually happen is better than nothing, `I seem to recall you,' I point at
Chakotay with my chin, `going off to commune with the spirit of your father and
being attacked by Kazon.  I think I decided I had better things to do, and
didn't watch the rest of the episode, however, so I don't know much else.'

	`In that case, I don't think I should let you go alone,' the captain
tells Chakotay.

	`I could take one of the suits of Binar armor and accompany the
shuttle.  I'll stay out of the way, and if something comes up I'll deal with
it.  Sounds good?'  Chakotay nods reluctantly, as does the captain.

	I blink my new eyes at them, still a little disconcerted by the
slightly broader visual range, just a little further into the utraviolet and
infrared.

-*

	`What did you just say?'  B'El-chan asks, suddenly breaking eye contact
and looking around at my mess again.  I really should have cleaned up better,
but by the time I thought of it it was too late.

	`I asked how you liked the food.'  I grip another quarter new potato
with my chopsticks, glad that the recipe hadn't been too badly damaged when I
found it.

	`It's really good.  Hard to believe you made this by hand.'  I shake my
head, once again wondering about these people.

	I notice her stare again, and I shift position, watch as her gaze
tracks to follow my eyes.  `Are they that distracting?'

	`What?'  She looks down at her food guiltily, taking another potato
piece and swirling it through the sauce.

	`My new eyes.'  Her eyes flash up, and something that resembles a blush
colors her cheeks.

	`They're beautiful,' the words seem to embarrass the woman further, and
she continues, `But why did you do it?'

	`My old ones are in cryostasis in sickbay if I want them back, and
these ones are a lot nicer in a couple ways,' I look down, grab another
potato piece, `And I have access to technolgy so far beyond what I ever really
expected to see that I really see no point to not exploiting it.'

	B'El-chan raises an eyebrow at me, `Exploit?'

	`Yep.  I have the chance to play with cyberware more advanced than my
world will likely have in sixty or seventy years, see what new toys I can come
up with through merging different technologies available here, and I can fix
on the annoying little problems I've got.'

	`Annoying little problems?'

	`My legs go to sleep if I sit in one position too long.  Using
nanoconstructors I've made my blood vessels a good deal less easy to collapse,
so that time has gone from half an hour to five or six hours.  Things like
that.  I think I'll need to modify my nerves a little bit to fix the problem
totally.'

	B'El-chan gapes at me, `That's,' she trails off, staring.

	`Illegal?'

	Faint nod.

	`I noticed.  You know the background on the laws against using
nanoconstructors on humans?'

	B'El-chan shakes her head.

	`They were grandfathered in when the Federation was founded.  They are
based on laws set up by the people who created Kahn Singh.  Those /laws/,' I
stress lightly, `were set up to keep the genetic enhancements they'd created
from spreading out into the rest of the populace.'

	`You mean?'  She looks apalled.

	`Yep.  Continued research into nanotech would have made it
cost-effective to enhance everyone.  _Every single person on Earth_ could have
been enhanced by the time of First Contact if it wasn't for those laws.  If it
wasn't for those laws, every citizen of the Federation, our allies, and
probably most of our enemies as well, would be far better off, physically at
least.'

	`Don't you have,' she looks down at her food, searching for a word,
`Religious objections to doing this?'

	`No, no more than you have religious objections to being torn into
little bitty pieces and recreated from an analog pattern.'

	`That's different.'  She stabs another potato.

	`How?'

	She just looks down at her plate, then shakes her head.

	`So, you like them?'  I smile at her, blink to draw her attention back
to my eyes.

	`Yeah.  How do they work?'

	`The reflective layer is on top of a variable filter that functions as
a pupil, darkening when the light level increases and letting more light
through when the light level decreases.'

	`How much filtration do they provide, and how fast?'

	`They vary from almost transparent, which allows me to see in a room
with just my body heat for lighting,' B'El-chan looks properly impressed, `to
dark enough that I could do arc welding without a helmet, provided I don't mind
the sunburn.'

	B'El-chan blinks at me, `Arc welding?'

	`Joining pieces of metal by using an electric arc to heat them to their
melting point.'

	The rest of dinner passes as I attempt to explain how to arc weld.

-*

	&If you don't mind, captain, I'll take this instead.& I wave at her,
the MotoSlave's great hand mimicking the gesture perfectly.

	`That'll be fine,' she says, looking just a little green.

-*

	`I'll leave you to your prayers, Chakotay.'

	`Thank you for accompanying me, Suika.'  Chakotay says, ignoring the
fact that he wouldn't need anyone with him if I hadn't opened my mouth about
what I remember.

	`No problem.  I'll be off playing with some of the rocks.  Tell me when
you're ready to go.' We'd already set the shuttle's sensors to contact me at
the first sign of possible hostiles.

	`I will.'

	The motoslave lets go of the shuttle pod, plasma intercoolers glowing
as I head towards the nearby asteroid belt.

-

	I am busily examining what look like fossils when Chakotay's shuttle
bounces me a reading.  One little Kazon ship, about half a light-year out.

	&Miki, calculate an intercept course, and tell me when the departure
time arrives.&

	&Ryokai.  Kore dou?& she replies, flashing the projected intercept
across my vision.

	&fine.&

	I turn back to my fossils, fingers dancing across a keyboard as I cross
check again.  I think I may have actually found signs of pre-Slaver life.

	&Time.&  Miki's done her job well, and the path she drew is free of any
obsticals.  The motoslave's powerful warp drive changes the nature of space
right around me, and the hardsuit's inertial dampeners reduce eight thousand
times the force of Earth's curve into a much more bearable eight Gs.  One one
thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, the motoslave's engines
reverse, slowing me into a course parallel the Kazon ship, one one thousand,
two one thousand, three one thousand, four.

	The craft's weapons are charged, and it shows no indications of
stopping.  I check and make sure it is actually after Chakotay's shuttlepod,
then open communications,

	`Kazon craft, state your designation and intentions.'

	`I am called Kahr and am on my naming hunt,' a visual signal
accompanies the young man's voice, unlike with my own communications.

	`And your target is that shuttle?'

	`Yes, so go away.'

	I blink at that, then my fingers dance over virtual keys again.

	A passive warp sustainer, yet another cute toy from the black
databases, drops free, chemical engines flaring as it rockets towards the Kazon
ship.  I can feel the difference between its field and the Kazon's through the
motoslave's sensors, and watch with interest as it reaches the edge of the
Kazon warp field.

	As designed, the sustainer tries to maintain proper field harmonics,
and so do the Kazon's engines.  With a bright flash the warp sustainer
explodes, and the Kazon's warp field collapses.  I double back, dropping out of
warp in front of the beige fighter craft.

	`This is Ensign Mizuno of the UN Spacey.  Stand down and prepare to be
boarded.'  The Kazon takes exception to my orders, and tries to flee.  The
Kazon's warp field begins to come up, then crashes.

	*That'll lower the prize's value.* I grumble to myself, happily
contemplating the chance to play with the ugly little ship.  &You scanning for
important points?&

	&Hai.  Sou shimasu.&  Miki begins painting them over the ship, green
for life support, red for weapons, blue for electronics, and purple for
propulsion.  The purple block of the warp engines are paler than the rest,
indicating that they are down.

	`You can't run, you can't hide, and I can blow you to kingdom come
before you can say "Jonny Robinson."'

	 `I will never surrender!'  The young Kazon declares, his fingers
dancing over his controls.

	`Really?'  I ask, Borg-inspired energy weapons making short work of the
inefficient Kazon shields.  I slip forward to rest one of the motoslave's large
hands against the transparent front canopy of the fighter, the other holding
the long bulk of the rail-cannon.  I aim it towards the blue bulk of the ship's
primary computer, a horrible kludge, half transistor and half transtator, with
all the vulerabilities of both technologies and few of the advantages of
either.

	`Not so long as I can take you with me!' he boasts, suddenly smiling.
He starts to reach for a control, and I regretfully put a hole in my prize.
The secondary computer fails to come on-line, and the separate computer
controlling life support crashes, the whole ship going dark.  &fuck& I curse
elegantly.

	&Request backup.& I tell Miki, &and plot us a course back to V'ger,
with the prize.&

	&Yukuri ni&  Miki comments, flashing the course across my vision, then
we lock the tractor beam onto the larger fighter and, warp fields stretched
with the aid of five active warp sustainers, head back towards the ship, slowly
accelerating towards a tenth of warp five light speed.

	&Fermi&

	&?& the shuttle's simple transtator-based computer asks.

	&Have Kazon prize.  Returning to V'ger, backup on way&

	&<ACK>& Fermi's computer acknowledges.

	&V'ger&

	&Voyager here.&

	&Any other Kazon about?&

	&Nothing from the whiskers, and no missed transmissions&

	&<ACK>& I reply.  A half-hour later the impulse engines cut out, and I
go weightless again.  I check on my captive.  His air should last him another
four hours.  Luckily for him, time dialation works even under warp conditions,
so the trip will only be three and a half hours subjective, with deceleration
included in that number.

-*

	`So, the boy thinks that I'm 'sposed to kill him, or he'll be forever
disgraced, huh?'  I shake my head in annoyance, pulling back out from under the
Kazon fighter's warp core.

	`Something like that,' B'El-chan says, `You may be able to convince him
that he wasn't your enemy or something.'

	`Or something sounds like the most fun.'

-

	`So, by taking you captive I own you until you either kill me or die.'

	`Yes,' the boy says sullenly.

	`And I can kill you however I want, as quickly or as slowly as I want.'

	`Right.'

	`So, I think I'll torture you to death.'  B'El-chan looks at me with
concern in her eyes.

	`That is acceptable.'

	`It will take a very long time, for it is a very sophisticated
technique, one even your gods would balk at.'

	`I am not afraid.'

	`You could well suffer in agony for years this way.'

	`Do you take me for a coward?!  I will not protest!'

	`I will need your word of honor upon that before I can begin the
torture.  Otherwise my captain may object, she does not approve of prolonging
another's suffering.'

	`You have my word!  Begin the torture!' the boy orders.

	`What is your name again?'

	`Kahr!'

	`That's Kahr sir! got that?'

	`Yes sir!' he snaps back.

	`Good.' I smile evilly at the boy, and comprehension fills B'El-chan's
eyes.

-*

	`Sir, what is this? sir!'  Kahr queries as I set a plate of today's
special in front of the boy.

	`Dinner.  It's compatible with Kazon biology, so eat.'

	After finishing the plate, he complains, `Sir, that really tasted bad,
sir!'

	`Did you think I'd feed you food you liked while I tortured you to
death, boy?'

	`Sir, no sir!'

-*

	`Sir, what is this, sir?'

	`A book.  Read it.'

-

	`Sir, I am confused, sir!'

	`Why is that?'

	`Sir, I do not comprehend this book, sir!'

	`One is not expected to understand the Principia.  One is to accept it,
or not, as one feels is more correct.'

	`Sir, the book, the Principia, tells of a world that makes no sense,
sir!'

	`Why is that?'

	`Sir, if the universe was created because the entity that made it was
bored, what does she want with us, sir?'

	`If you do not understand, I don't know if I may teach you.  However,
think on this.  If one is on the surface of a world, is it more likely to rain
if one is prepared for it, or unprepared.'

	`Sir, unprepared, sir!'

	`So, is one more likely to succeed if one is wandering around trying to
have fun, make a mess, and make a great big group of happy people, or if one is
wandering around trying to be grim and dour and proper.'

	`Sir, the first, sir!'

	I smirk my evil smirk.

-*

	I finish crimping the new connectors into place.  With this and the new
paint job I should be able to fly the thing, and my sensor signature should be
small enough to be useful.

	I connect it up, and power on the new 'puter.  It flashes a series of
lights, then steadies, all green.

-*

	`I think he's getting wise to me, B'El-chan.'  The two of us are
watching the monitor on holopod seven, inside of which the young Kazon is
repeatedly getting trashed by the computer in yet another combat simulation.

	`Really?'

	`Yep.  Even though his people have a really big thing about death being
the only honorable way out of his situation, I think he's beginning to realize
that being alive and learning from the experience is a good thing.'  I watch as
the boy manages to keep his temper in check long enough to escape from
captivity this time, fleeing back towards his home lines.

	`So, next time you run him through the full paranoid version?'

	I smile that evil smile I've been practicing in the mirror, since the
captain didn't recognize it as one when I used it on her.

-*

	`Sir, I ask that you release me from my vow, sir.'

	`Why?' I ask the young man kneeling at my feet.

	`Sir, I would do more good for your people among my people, sir.'

	`How so?'

	`I think I would be able to convince them of the problems I now see in
the traditional ways.  If Eris finds it amusing enough, I may be able to make a
new and more enjoyable mess of our society.'

	`You did not call me sir just now,' I growl at him.

	`No, my patron.  I did not.'

	`Good.  You are released of your vows.  Will you need any backup when
I return you to your people?'

	`Yes, please, my patron.'

	I smile broadly, and giggle.

	`What is it?'

	`The thought of coming back this way in a while, and finding people who
actually take my Sainthood demi-seriously.'

	Kahr suddenly smiles broadly, falls over on his back, and laughs so
hard his nose shakes in counterpoint to his head.  I hadn't realized that such
a thing was posible, even for a Kazon.

-*

	`So, here we are.  How do you want to do this?'

	Kahr smiles, `We go in, I kick all their asses, and then you leave.'

	`That would be the nice way.  How do you expect it to go?'

	`We go in, we kick all their asses, and then you leave.'

	`Sounds like a plan.'

-*

	`Where's Kahr?'

	`I took him back to his ship.'

	`They don't take kindly to letting prisoners live.'

	`We stunned everyone on the ship, then tied them up.  He should be able
to bring them around, Eris willing.'

	`Who's Eris?' the captain asks, and I turn to her, thinking that I may
have finally found another convert.

-*

	`You believe that the universe was created by an omnipotent being
because she was _bored_?' the captain asks, a little incredulously.

	`Yep.  I like it better than the idea of a god who created the universe
just to make our lives miserable.'

	`What do you mean?' she asks, looking confused.

	`I hadn't realized Christianity had faded so much from the common
view.'

	`That isn,' the captain fades off, thinking about it.

	`Think about that some more, and if you want I'll print you out a copy
of the Principia as well.'

	`I think I would like that.'

-*

Little short, but oh well.  Really takes the wind out of some of the episodes
to actually think things through.

Of course, any real 'fleet keeps a constant eye on their vehicles while they
are in operation.  That's what transponders are for, after all . . .

Again, 3165 Confusion 53.
ed 3165 Confusion 58

-*

	`Suika to sickbay.'  The captain's voice shocks me out of what I'm
reading, so I open my eyes, and press my hands together, middle fingers to
thumbs, to shunt the X server out of sight.  I hope whatever it is doesn't take
too horribly long, since I'm at a pretty good part of that novel.

-*

	`So the doc's in the holodeck and something scragged his program
somewhat?'  I look over B'El-chan's shoulder at the screen.

	`Umhmm,' she murmors.

	`But he's still functional?'  That was the request the doc made when I
told him about having added his program to the backup schedule, that if we could
keep his original matrix running we'd do that rather than terminate it and
restore him from the backup, which is perfectly reasonable.

	`MmmHmm.'

	&Can we isolate his program?& I ask Miki.

	&Un, sou omoimasu&

	&you don't have to be so formal&

	&Ii n desu&

	&as you wish&

	&junbi kanryoushimashita&

	&yatte mitte&

	&Yarimashita wa!& Miki exaults, printing a display of what's going on
across my vision.

	`I've got the doc's program isolated.  Would you like me to try and
transfer it over?'

	`How?' the captain asks, glancing up at me.

	`I asked Miki to do it.'

	`Oh.  Yeah, please do.'

	&transfer the doc's program to sickbay&

	&Un.  dekimashita&

	The doc stumbles as he appears.  `That was weird.  I was on Voyager,
but everyone but Suika,' he points at me with his chin, a habit I've noticed
most of the crew adopting, seeming to think it was tradition of my people
rather than an affectation, `and I were holograms.  Janeway told the computer
to terminate all of the holoprograms, then vanished.  Suika then began rolling
on the floor laughing, and I was about to query the computer to see what was
going on when I appeared here.'

	`Well, we got you back.  Is there any damage?' the captain asks.

	`None that I can find with a self-diagnostic.'

	`B'Elanna?'

	`His matrix is stable.  Let's just run a full diag,' she murmors,
fingers dancing for a moment.

-*

	`So, how did this happen?' the doc asks me.

	I sit next to the portable emiter while I check the refit.

	`A spacial anomaly caused some weirdness in some of the holodeck's
transtator-based circuitry.  This caused it to re-write a bunch of the program
you were running based on the nasty mess you have for a subconcious.'  I
contemplate kicking the obnoxiously built tranciever in my hand, then decide it
isn't worth the trouble of standing up so I can get a good swing at it.

	I let it dangle while I turn around, taking a deep breath to calm
myself.

	`That came out of my program?' the doc sounds quite amazed.

	`Yep.'  I turn back to the tranciever, and this time manage to get it
back into place.

	`Could something like that happen again?'

	`Not if I can help it.  That's why we're refitting the holodeck now.
If you'd been in one of the holopods this wouldn't have happened.

	`Also,' I take a deep breath, `I think it would be good if we could
separate your core program, the bit that makes you tick, from your external
matrix.'

	`How do you mean?'

	`If we could separate the two it should give us a couple advantages.
We'd be able to call upon your advice without needing you to physically
manifest, and if we do it right we may be able to allow you to manifest
multiple physcal forms off the single core program.'

	`Like multiple frames in that editor you like, emacs, isn't it?'

	`Exactly.'

	The doc looks intrigued by the idea, `And how would you do that?'

	`I don't know.  I tend to just come up with these ideas.  Can you turn
off your physical manifestation without shutting down your program?'

	The doc twists his face, but stays present, `It does not look like it.'

	&Miki?&  I pass her the requirements.

	&Hun&

	`Miki's working on it.'

-*

	This one ended up really short ^_^
	First person can really shrink things too ^_^

again, 3165 Confusion 53
ed 3165 Confusion 58

-*

	I pull back from B'El-chan, shaking, desparately wanting to continue.
Her eyes are flashing, her hair disarrayed, and her uniform is a little mussed.
In other words, she is absotively gorgeous, and I wish I could say I was as
willing as she seems.

	`What's wrong?'

	`Too fast,' I gasp, fighting hard to keep from throwing myself into her
arms again.  Her hands are steady on my shoulders, so I continue, `This is my
second romantic relationship,' I let myself step forward, putting my hands on
the slightly taller woman's hips, `and my other one lasted a whole three weeks
and left me a, more scrambled than normal for months,' I let her pull me into a
hug, `and I don't want that to happen again,' I let myself just enjoy her grip
for several long moments.

	`I don't want to push you.'  B'El-chan's hands are soft against my
hair.

	`I don't want to push you away.'  I force the words up, `I'm just
scared.'

	B'El-chan just hugs me closer, `Don't worry so.  If I decide I want
out,' she stops, petting my braid with one hand, `I'm a bigger fool than I ever
thought I was.'

	Somehow her words are very comforting, and I let myself relax a little
farther into her embrace.  Her fingers pause on my shoulders, working on one of
the knots that I can't remember not having.  A faint pleased moan escapes my
throat, stealing through my closed lips.

	`You're really tense.'

	`Yeah.  Not much worse than normal.'

	B'El-chan's breath hisses in through her teeth, `I don't think I could
stand being this tense.'

	`You're Klingon, part at least, tougher musculature.'

	`Lower tolerance for cronic pain, more likely.  Let's get you over to
your bed.'  She carries me over onto it, manuvering carefully through the piled
cruft, then lays me down, turning me onto my belly before I can manage it
myself.  She settles herself over my thighs, and firm fingers begin to
manipulate my back.  [Grr.  Just writing this is making my neck hurt. --S]  

	`You don't have to,' I protest, not terribly vehemently.

	`If I don't no one else will.'  Which is true enough.

	`Thanks.'  I smile involuntarily, pleased despite myself by the forced
intimacy.

	Her fingers play over my neck again, this time just caressing the
almost rubbery muscles, and I feel a mild flush of pleasure at their strength,
increased by my studies, even if it has made the normal pain of their constant
tension worse.  She's begun to stroke my cheek, her callused hands a little
scratchy as they slip softly along my skin.  I lay, face down, torn between a
faint desire for more, a great lastitude brought on by the forced relaxation
of my back, and the ardent hope that this moment will never end.

	`Janeway to Lt. Torres, I need you on the bridge.'

	A moment passes, then `Janeway to Suika, I'd like you to come take a
look at this.'

	I sigh dramaticly.  &Miki, use the voice to tell her that I'll be there
in a moment&

	An electronicly modulated rendition of my voice rattles through the
ship, deep and slow, `Acknowledged, Captain.  I will be there shortly.'  Some
of my cruft rustles as the low frequency sound shakes it out of its piles.

	B'El-chan reluctantly gets to her feet.  I follow, stretching under the
strangeness of my loosened back, and kiss her on the lips, `Thank you,
B'El-chan.  This feels wonderful.'  I follow her across the mess, the door
closing behind us.

	&Miki, what is it, anyway?&

	&Uchuu kojira&  She flashes some pictures across my vision.

	`Hey, B'El-chan, the whiskers have detected a pod of space whales.'  I
contemplate a moment.

	`Space whales?'

	`That's what Miki called them at least.'

-*

	`Captain?  I don't think we should approach too close.  Those creatures
are the size of V'ger.'

	`Then what do you propose?'

	`I take Hikaru,' what I'd named my Kazon fighter, `in for a closer
look, along with whomever you decide to send along. with me.' I wince
internally at my phrasing, `That way we will have a good look at the creatures
and can get good readings on their microbiology, without endangering the crew
or ship.'

	`Chakotay?'

	`It seems like a good idea to me.'

-*

	`MMmm,' I whine, pressing my face against B'El-chan's shoulder, `I'd
hoped you'd get sent along.  See you in a couple days?'

	`Count on it.'

-*

	`Approaching the pod of "whales."' I report, bringing Hikaru to a
relative stop several hundred kilometers from the creatures.  From this close
the sensor data is much thicker, like warm motor oil, flowing viscous and
slightly nausiating across my senses.

	`Why so far out?'  Chakotay asks, looking out the transparency at the
distant blots of deeper darkness, almost two lightseconds away.

	`I don't want to get between two of those guys if I don't have to.
Hikaru's shields aren't as strong as V'ger's.'  I reply, sitting in /seiza/ at
the back of the cabin, the seatbelt holding the hardsuit in place.

	`So, are we going EVA to take a closer look?' Ensign Nameless asks
softly, lifting her eyes from the viewpanel in front of her.

	`Not if we don't have to,' Chakotay replies, `If we can't get the data
we want from here we'll go in closer.'  The Federation-designed SNBC suit he's
wearing is really ugly, and I have a hard time comprehending why he chose it.
It isn't much tougher than any of the other designs, and only slightly less
bulky than a HardSuit.

	`Yep.  We should be able to get most of our data from here; gross
physical structure, propulsion method, all that good stuff.  We'll probably
need to be within ten kilometers of the creatures to get decent scans of their
microbiology.  All I can tell from here is that there is only a .03 percent
chance of them being decended from Slaver food yeast.'

	`What's this obsession you've got with Slaver food yeast?'  Ensign Kim,
who's been quiet, asks.

	`Ninety four percent of the known life in this galaxy is decended from
the stuff.  Another percent are decended from Slaver client-races, or
creatures they created,'

	Ensign Kim blinks at me, `Wow.'

	`To me that makes the other five percent much more interesting, althogh
some of the survivors are really interesting as well.'

	`Like Bandersnatchi.'

	`Yep.  Especially Bandersnatchi.  They're telepathicly inert.'

	`What?  How do you know all of this?' Ensign Kim asks.

	`It's in the black databases.  The Bandersnatch experiments were done
back before the Genesis incident, then buried.  The powers-that-were didn't
want it known that they are the secret weapon that destroyed the Slavers.'  I
hadn't thought the Niven universe actually intersected the StarTrek one so
heavily, but apparently there is more in common than a single incident with the
Kzin.  Much more.

	`The food yeast numbers came out of genetic comparisons, and a sample
of yeast found in a stasis-box.  Almost all of the spacefaring species in the
Alpha quadrant are desended from Slaver food yeast, including the Gorn.  The
Tholians and Horta are the only ones I know of off the top of my head who
aren't.'

	`Have you discussed this with Captain Janeway?'  Ensign Nameless asks.

	`No, it's in the database for anyone to look at.  I've left a lot of
the black database open for common perusal, only the things that would be
immediately useful for weapons require talking to me or the Captain about it
first.'

	`You might want to do that, or write it up.  That's quite a remarkable
discovery.'

	`Not as remarkable as the discovery that Humans are mutant Pak, and
that the Tree-Of-Life virus is quite growable in yams.'  I should set up a
lending-library with my paper books.  It might get them out of my quarters.

	`What?'  Three voices crack in the middle of that startled word.

	`A mining accident from 2161 lead to a single human, name of Brenan,
being exposed to Tree-Of-Life.  He quickly shifted out-system, and used a
warp-equiped Bussard Ramjet to destroy the Pak fleet, which was fleeing the
destruction of their home star.'  Unlike the Niven universe, however, the
center of our galaxy isn't in the process of self-destructing; someone had set
up massive stasis fields throughout the galactic core, stopping the chain
reaction from spreading.  Or several someones; the stasis fields seem to have
been generated by fourty or fifty different types of devices over several
million years.

	`So, what happened to Brenan?'

	`He's seen every now and again.  Protectors are pretty much immortal,
and remarkably sturdy.'

	`Why hasn't he been after the Borg?'

	`I don't have a clue.  Maybe he doesn't see them as a threat.'

-*

	&Hey.&

	&hey, what's up?&

	&Kes has gone into something referred to as Elohzuum or something.
It's the Ocampa fertile period, and they only enter it once.  Apparently it was
triggered somehow by the 'whales.'&

	&at over four light years away?  pretty impressive&

	&Yeah.  I was thinking that you might be able to fix things up if she
decides not carry through on this this time.&

	&hun, I think so.  dig out one of those biomonitors we crufted together
and have her wear it.  that should provide enough data for any reconstruction
that would need to be done&

	&I'll let her know.&

	&Nice talking to you, B'El-chan.&

	&And you.  I didn't know you spelled it like that ^_^ &

	&B'El-chan?  How else would I spell it?&

	&I thought it was Bell-chan&

	&Uun.  There's an anime character who's little like you by that name.&

	&Really?  Could you show me that?&

	&I'll dig the manga out for you, but I don't have the anime.  Don't
have a VCR either&

	&VCR?&

	&Video Cassette Recorder.  Device for recording video on tape and
playing it back&

	&ah.  Maybe we can cruft something together to fix that&

	&Maybe&

	&Miss you&

	&Miss you too&

-*

	`So, we've got all the data we can gather from here.  Let's head in
another couple hundred kilometers.'

	`Hai.'  I reply, probably confusing the others, who don't speak
Japanese (their loss).  I bring the engines back up, and approach slowly,
again adjusting to a stop relative the pod.

	`OK.  I think we'll need to move closer in another twenty or thirty
minutes.'  Ensign Kim states, looking at his instrument bank.

-*

	`Bring us in for the microbio scans, please.' Ensign Nameless asks, and
Chakotay nods his agreement.  I bring us in close, shields up.  We stop
dangerously close to the creatures, and I leave the engines warm for a quick
get away.

	&Suika?&  I don't recognize the incoming UID.

	&Yeah?&

	&It's Kes.  What would you do?&

	&Haven't the foggiest.  I'd be tempted to just do it, but . . . & I
carefully space out the elipses &I don't know.  I'd tell you to follow your
heart, but I'm sure someone else has already done that.  So, just be careful,
and realize this could be a really bad mistake, or a really good thing,
depending.  You're the one who's gonna have to deal with the results, no matter
what happens&

	*Whump* something shakes Hikaru, probably making everyone glad of the
seatbelts.

	&Tha&*Whump**Fhumfh* and a cloud of smoke puffs out along one of the
data leads.

	`Oh dear.'  I mutter, tracing the damage, `The shields are down, the
shield control computer blowing took out the main 'puter's I/O pod, and that
means we're dead in the water.'  I turn around, digging into the cabinet at the
back of the fighter's cabin.  I pull out two adapters, connect them together,
and start trying to undo the connection between the subsidiary computers and
the I/O pod.  `Bloody hell.  Ensign, could you disconnect this thing?'  I ask
after a moment, giving up on getting it open with the hardsuit on.

	`Grr.'  Ensign Nameless grabs it, wiggling the thing and pulling on it
while she holds the little clip that holds it shut, `Got it.'  I take the end I
want in the mechanical fingers of the hardsuit's right hand, and wiggle the
adapters into place, then connect them to the hardsuit's systems.

	`Got it.'  I say, linking Miki in place of Hikaru's main 'puter.
`Moving us out of the area.'  The impulse engines are sluggish, and I can't
seem to get the warp field up.

	After a moment something flags itself to my attention, `It looks like I
placed the life-support computer too close to shield control.  All the magic
smoke came out.'  No one else moves to get their helmets on.  I get mine on,
and shift to internal support.

	`All the magic smoke came out of the life support computer.  That means
life support is down, and there isn't enough air in this cabin to support one
person for four hours, let alone four for twelve.'  I can almost see the
lightbulbs popping on over their heads, and they scramble to get their suits
sealed.

	`Someone stick their head out and make sure we don't have anyone
attached to the dorsal sensor dome, I'm not getting any data out of it.'
Ensign Kim does a quick Janken with Ensign Nameless, and loses.  He unbuckles,
steps into the airlock, and starts to cycle out.

	`Kim!  Safety line!'  I bark at him, putting a bit of bite into it,
since he may have forgotten my safety lecture already.

	`Right.' he mutters, and the bit indicating that the safty line is in
use flips.  `Well,' he says a moment later, `we have a passenger.  It's quite
large, and seems to have attached itself to the dorsal sensor dome.'

	`Just the dome, or the dome and some of the surrounding hull?'  Maybe
I'll be able to . . .

	`Looks like it is just the dome.'

	`Yoush.  Get back into the airlock, and get the door closed.'  A moment
later the "door open" bit flips off.  I bite my lip, upset about having to
replace the upper dome, and blow it loose.  Six kilos of high explosive make
the whole ship shake violently, then I tell Kim, `check the dorsal sensor dome.
Is our passenger still attached?'

	`The creature has let go of the dome, and gone off somewhere.'

	`Is the dome still cover, grumble, is the dome clear of the sensor
pack?'

	`Not quite.'

	`Could you,'  I shake myself, then apply a tiny bit of thrust, shifting
the ship `down,' `Is it clear now?'

	`We're clear.'

	`Then get inside, and let's head out.'  I wait for the airlock bit to
flip off, then slowly ramp up to full impulse.  Once we are a few hundred
kilometers from the whales I bring us to a stop, belly facing the pod so I can
watch them through the ventral sensor cluster.

	`Did we get all the data we wanted?'

	Nameless looks at her console, then nods, `Yes, we did.'

	`Good 'nuff.  Kim, when,' the inner airlock opening cuts me off, and he
takes his seat, buckling down again.

	`Let's get back to V'ger.'  Three heads nod agreement, and I bring the
warp engines up to warp three, the impulse engines quickly accelerating us to
a full tenth the new speed of light.  `We'll be there in a few hours, let's
hope we didn't scare them too badly.'

-*

	`So, you got the data we wanted?' the captain asks.

	`Yep.  I think we can move on again,' I prod.

	`I agree.  I'll want a full report when you get Hikaru locked down.'

	`Understood.'

-*

	`So, when do you think you will have the repairs to Hikaru completed?'

	`Well, I should have life support back about twenty minutes after I
start, but I want to do a full redesign on the main communication links so
this won't happen again.  Next week if left to my own devices.'

	`And if we need it before then?'

	`I should be able to get her back together again in three hours at the
outside, if I don't need to manufacture any new parts.'

	`Good enough.'

-*

	`Well, this is interesting.' I tell Kes, looking at the data from the
recorder.

	`What do you mean?'  [grumble.  Haven't seen Kes in a monkey's age --S]
Kes looks up a tiny bit at me.

	`Well, this looks to me like one of your years doesn't correspond to
the revolutionary period of your planet,' I make a face, poking at buttons
that aren't really there.

	`Of course not.  Why ever should it?'  Kes looks quite confused.

	`That's just a common assumption.'

-*

	`Bloody heck.' I stare at the two motorcycles somehow sitting in the
middle of my bed.

	&Miki, assign me Cargo Bay Two for my quarters.  Mark these as
available when I get all of my cruft out&

	&ryoukai&

	`Eris bless,' I mutter, and begin pushing the CB-77 towards the door.
At least now I can fix it, I suppose . . .

-*

	`What are you up to?' B'El-chan asks, taking in the sight of me
leaning heavily on my tredle-cabinet, the machine folded up inside, the whole
hundred and some pound weight having gotten to me again.

	`Moving.  I came back from this last mission and found a pair of
motorcycles in my bed.  I figure I need bigger quarters before I wake up under
my Ghia.'

	`Motorcycles?  Ghia?' She asks, taking one end of the tredle-cabinet.

	`Yeah.  An RD-200, which is a Yamaha two-stroke, and a CB-77 SuperHawk,
neither of which runs.  Miranda is a 1971 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia.'

	`What's a Yamaha, and I know two-stroke refers to a type of internal
combustion engine, but I've no idea how.'

	`Yamaha is a manufacturer, or at least they were. . .'

-*

	`Done at last.' I say, then look up at B'El-chan, sheer exhaustion a
lukewarm fog over my thoughts as I stare at the other half of the bay, which
is nicely full of plants, hiding the nanoconstruction equipment.  Maybe I
should put up some dividers.

	`I'm too tired to get to my quarters without falling down, can I stay
here?'

	`Go ahead,' I say, waving my hand in a vauge arch across the expanse
of floor I set my table, chairs, and futon in.

	She drops an arm around my shoulders and hauls me over to my futon,
and I let her pull me down.  I tuck my face against her shoulder and the world
goes a little greyer.  A vauge thought about how I'm going to regret going to
sleep in my boots flashes across my mind, but I really don't want to move.

-*

Well, this one isn't too short

3165 Confusion 58
mod 3165 Bureaucracy 2

-*

	`So,' I tell myself, looking at the piles of stuff, vaugely sorted by
type, books piled in great drifts to one side, furniture against the walls,
the motorcycles set out of the way, most of my clothing actually put away, and
many boxes of papers set about, `What to do?  What to do?  I really should get
things put away, and a little bit of privacy would be nice.  The 'puter should
be able to OCR my papers and then I could recycle them, and that would get
them out of my hair.  I should also re-arrange the furniture.'

	`So, what to do?' I strike a pose, &Miki, prog some nice book shelves,
not see-through, about three meters tall, and sturdy, to go along here,& I
indicate a line across the corner I've chosen, bowed out to allow for more
usable space on the inside.

	&Hai.  Asatte dekimasu yo.&

	&Day after tomorrow's fine.&

	`OK, now what?'  I sit down, grab a box, and start sorting through it,
telling Miki which bits I want OCRd and saved off each.

-*

	`Ensign Kim, we're going to beam you off,' Janeway tells him in that
urgent but somehow calming voice of hers.  I lean against one of the walls,
staying as far out of the way as I can, thinking that I should look up how
many shuttles V'ger has, since this one is not long for this world.  If I'd
been consulted on the matter I'd be out there in Hikaru, which should be
holding up a good deal better than that pitiful little type 2 . . .

	But I wasn't, and I'm not, and Kim's out there in a vaugely sacred
shuttlecraft.  I lean back, close my eyes, and start digging for why poor
Ensign Kim looks to be about to become space dust.

	Well, that makes a fat lot of sense.  [Anybody know why we have a
single Ensign in a shuttlepod? --S]

	Someone says over the com system, `I've lost his pattern.'

	`Get it back!' Janeway orders, rather redundently it would seem to me,
since I can hear the beeping of the buttons as he works at the controls.

	`Got it!' he anounces, then murmors, `there we go,' and I hear the
shimmer of a transporter.

	After a bit he steps out of the turbolift, and walks down to the helm,
where he tells Paris, `I owe you one.'

-*

	`So, what happened?'  The five of us, me, B'El-chan, Paris, Kim, and
Ensign Nameless, are sitting around a table in the mess hall.

	`Well, I heard the Captain say that I was going to get beamed off,
then I opened my eyes in some other me's house in San Francisco . . .'  I
listen to him describe things, alternately ragging on him and throttling back
the urge.  I'm rather glad I wasn't sent on this little mission, since I've
grown fond of Hikaru, and I have no idea what kind of a mess I'd end up in if
it happened to me.

	Almost certainly not a good one, I muse, shifting my chair a little
closer to B'El-chan.

-*

3165 Bureaucracy 2
More POV shortening

-*

	I blink, hiding my face behind my hand and peeking through my fingers,
almost wishing I had made Kes the leola-root necklace I'd briefly considered.
At least then this mess would make a little more sense . . .

	`What are you doing?' B'El-chan asks, leaning against the wall next to
me, her arms crossed.

	`Cringing.'

	`I admit it is nothing like a Klingon birthday party, but why are you
cringing?'

	`Well, birthday parties at my house have some of the same elements,
gathering people together, treats, singing, but this just bugs me a bit.'

	`When's your birthday?' she asks, changing the subject smoothly.

	`um,'

	/ssh miyuki date/

	\Fri April 23 17:52:38 MST 1999\  hmm.  23 minus seven is . . . 16,

	`three and a half months back now.'

	`And you didn't say anything?' she leans a little closer,

	`Didn't think about it at the time.  We should have an unbirthday
party, perhaps.'

	`Unbirthday party?'

	`Something a teacher friend of mine liked to do.'

	`Tuvok to Janeway,' cuts through the noise of the party like icewater
through gauze.  `We have,' and the voice com system goes on the fritz.

	&Miki, figure out what's wrong,& I ask, fighting down the urge to tack
on "now" and an emphatic.

	&Atama ga itai yo!& she moans, conveying real pain in her voice.  The
data she presents almost makes my head hurt, too.

	`Well, this is just peachy.'  I anounce in a loud voice.

	Everyone turns to look at me, so I continue, `We had no one at the
helm, so we just plowed into a really interesting spacial anomally.  Shields
and warp drive are down.'

	&anou,& Miki prods.  Well, that's interesting.

	`And the ship's 'puter is trying to fight off a cracking attempt.'

	&Miki, try to make contact, carefully& I ask, glad, once again, that
backup media is so cheap now.

	&Hen na yatsu& she kvetches back at me, a twisted ick face in her
voice.

	&anything useful?&

	&iie.  Kimochi warui yo&

	`Miki's not getting anything but noise out of the intruder, and it's
making her kinda ill.  Unless you object I'm gonna pull her back.' I tell the
captain.

	The captain nods to me, `Do that.  Lets see if we can get out of
here.' She turns to the others, telling them to pair off and head to their
stations.  I step closer to B'El-chan.

	&you can back off, Miki.  Tell us if anything interesting happens&

	&doumo& this time her voice betrays relief.

	The captian shoos us off to engineering.

	`This is weird.' I mutter, since the turbolift is going one way and
the positioning beacons say we're going the other.  Of course, the beacons are
shifting about quasi-randomly, and it's going to make me quite sick if I don't
do something about it soon.

	`What?'

	`The ship seems to be twisting about like a bowl of jello in a
hailstorm.' which simile, I realize after I make it, makes a damn fat lot of
sense, so I start to make a face.  All of the beacons go and switch positions
on me right then, and I drop to the floor, fighting to keep my gorge down.

	`Suika?  You OK?'

	`No,' I manage, pressing my head to my knees, whatever is still in my
stomach making noises like it wants out, and isn't willing to wait much
longer, `I tied the positioning beacons into my sense of balance, and they've
gone all,' the evil little things shift again, and I gulp, `wonky.'

	&Miki, cut the feed, no take over the feed from the positioning
sensors&

	&hai& and the feed drops, the nausia inducing data shifting to a
simple graphic of what they think the ship looks like.  It seems to have
turned quite inside out.

	Now that I can be sure I'm not going to barf, I wrap myself around
B'El-chan's ankles, wondering why the turbolift is taking so long.

	After a time it stops, and B'El-chan helps me to my feet, `You feeling
better?'

	`Yep.  I'm having Miki deal with the feed.' we step out into a
hallway, `The bridge beacon is through that door,' I point, `and my quarters
are through that one,' I point again, `and engineering claims to be right next
to the holodeck.' I wrap my arms around B'El-chan, this is making my head
hurt, and I never thought something like this would.  At least I'd always
thought that Lovecraft's ranting on such things was a little much.  Maybe not,
after all.

	`Well, how should we get there?'  I start tracing, and then it all
shifts around again.

	`Lets just sit here, and maybe it'll show up.' I start tracing again,
and it shifts, `If I had to guess, I'd say it's watching for when I start
plotting a course, and then shifting when I do,' trace for a few meters, and
sure enough, despite having been stable for the whole previous sentence, it
shifts again, `Or if it isn't its timing sucks.'  This must be getting to me,
I'm cussing again.

	`I think I'd prefer to wander around looking than sit around waiting.'

	`OK.'  I let her go a little bit, pulling back so we can walk.

-*

	`We're at the holodeck.' I point at a door which looks like a standard
cabin door.  I step close, and sure enough, it opens on the holodeck.  I find
a corner and lay my head against the cool tiles, watching as B'El-chan talks
to the others.

	After a little bit she comes back, scrapes me off the floor, and with
a few murmored words of comfort, drags me back into the twisting, churning
hallways.

	I walk with one eye open, my face pressed to the comforting solidity
of her upper arm.  As soon as whatever realizes we're close to Engineering
everything moves again, and I feel like whomping my head against a wall, but
that would just make it hurt worse.

	`We're at the door to engineering.' I blink, and notice that sure
enough this is the door.

	B'El-chan goes to open it, and I hold up a hand to stop her too late.
Ensign Bligh is standing there, doing weights, and barely clothed.  I don't
think I've ever seen B'El-chan turn that color before . . .

	She tells Ensign Bligh to stay put, then gathers me up and rests her
head on my shoulder.  I stroke her hair, a nasty headache throbbing behind my
eyes.

	We wander on, and eventually end up back at the holodeck.  I want to
curl up in a corner again, but B'El-chan won't let me.  She finds a seat and
cuddles me in her arms instead, her solid bulk holding the weirdness at bay
somehow.  I must admit that it is nicer than the floor, and I manage to press
my aching head against the cool tabletop without shifting out of her arms.

	Ensign Kim wanders in with a very disoriented looking captain, and I
glance up at them before pressing my head back against the table, very glad
for B'El-chan's strong arms about me.

	A little while later B'El-chan rouses me a little, asking me to
display the ship's structure.

	&Miki, do that& I tell her, pressing my face back against a different
spot on the table, the old one having warmed a little much.  I crack an eye
open to look at the twisted mess floating over the table, closing my eyes as
it shifts, but still seeing it in my head.

	A whole bunch of talking happens, but I pay no attention to it, the
dull throbbing in my head rumbling in time with my heartbeat.  Tuvok and
Chakotay yell at each other for a little bit, or at least that's what it seems
like, and I try to burrow my head into the table, hoping it will block the
noise.

	After a little bit B'El-chan rouses me again, murmoring something
about engineering and a pulse.

	`What?' I ask, shaking my head.  It doesn't clear my thoughts; instead
it seems to clear them out of my head entirely, a bright throbbing that makes
me sit very still.

	`I'm going to try and kick the engines over and knock us out of this
thing.'

	`OK,' I manage to get out of B'El-chan's lap without falling on the
floor, and stand with my hands braced on the table.

	`Let me help you into a chair,' she says, reaching to cup my shoulders
in her hands.

	`If I try to sit I'm gonna fall on my ass.  I'll come with you.'
Cussing again, I note mildly, trying to think around the uneven throbbing.

	She looks at me in exasperation, then gathers my elbow up in her hand,
supporting me.  Ensign Kim is on my other side, I note, and I am quite amused
that this time engineering appears right in front of us, actually to one side
a little bit, and I lean against the doorframe while the two of them work,
hoping that the door won't try to move while I'm standing there.  A little
while later B'El-chan pulls me into the hall, while everything shakes.  I want
to collapse and hide, but I manage to keep my feet under me as she leads us
back to the holodeck.

	Upon arriving I start wondering if I've started to hallucinate, but
the hairy eyeballs everyone else is giving the walls rather reasures me on
that count.  Tuvok suggests we do nothing, and, since this makes a good deal
of sense to me right now, I mutter something agreeing and let myself collapse
onto the nice cool tile.  B'El-chan drops down beside me, her hands warm
against my back as she rubs it lightly through my t-shirt.

	Things start getting worse inside my head.

	&Miki&

	&hai?&

	&deal with this until I get back to you&

	&wakatta&  and the inside of my head goes blessedly black, with only
the normal little grey blurs floating around.

	After a little bit things seem a little more lively, and the faint
buzz that had been floating around fades as footsteps head elsewhere.

	B'El-chan strokes my cheek, `It's over, everything seems normal.
Whatever it was was trying to talk to the captain,' so thats why she seemed so
out of it, `You feeling better?'

	I contemplate that through the haze of pain, `No.'

	`Then lets get you to sickbay,' she gathers me up in her arms, one arm
under my knees and the other under my back, a warm fuzzy feeling.  I press my
face to her shoulder, in too much pain to protest.

-*

	`Well, she's perfectly fine, except for the migrane.  Let's just give
her a painkiller,' the Doc thoughtfully tells B'Elanna.

	`Two asprin, a coke, and a dark chocolate bar work for my mother.'

	`This'll work better,' he says in what he thinks is a persuasive
voice.

	`That's what you said when you gave me a shot of acetominophin.'  I
grumph at him.

	He has the grace to look embarrased.  `Well, I know better than that
now,' he turns to gather up a hypospray.

	I catch his wrist when he reaches for my neck with it, `What's in it?'
I ask, the flare of pain the movement caused making my voice harsh.

	`Imprin,' asprin, `methyltheobromine,' caffine, `theobromine,' one of
the active ingredients in chocolate, `and a bit of codine.  The carrier is
water,' he adds.  I release his hand, and with a faint hiss the stuff enters
my bloodstream.

	After a few moments everything seems fine, and I watch with
fascination the feeling of moving my hands.  `A little less next time, I
think,' I manage to get out in useable form.

	`Why?'

	`I think this is just a tiny bit much,' I hop down, and the world
swirls just a bit, like I've drunk way to much coffee or something.  B'El-chan
is instantly at my shoulder, and I lean against her in a sort of giddy
happiness a she leads me out.

	I barely remember, but I turn when we get to the door, `Thanks 'Doc,'
I call back.  He nods acknowledgement.

-*

	B'El-chan stays and rubs my back as I fall asleep.

-*

	`Wow.  Ten gig of giberish.'  I stare at the file for a little bit.

	&Miki, see if you can figure out what that is.&

	&mnnumm& she whines at me.

	&please?&

	&yaritakune kedo,& she acceeds.

	&Some of the new nodes should be completed by now.  Offload as much as
you can&

	&Hai!& much more enthusiastic.

-*

3165 Bureaucracy 3

-*

	I look up at B'El-chan from my position on the floor in the middle of a
pile of small engine parts, `let me get this straight, we're going to send a
shuttle down on Hell, to get food,' I scowl at the stupid little pin that keeps
refusing to go into its little hole.

	`Pretty much,' she crouches down next to me, her hands almost reaching
to help.

	`How fun.  And why are we talking to me about it?' I ask, setting the
pin down carefull, and the shaft of gears as well.

	`Well, you may have noticed how fragile fleet shuttles are.  I have
this bad feeling that you're going to have to do a rescue mission.'

	`Oh joy.'  I look around at my pile of Honda 305 motor parts, extremely
glad for the nanoconstructors, without which the job would have been
impossible, instead of just very difficult.  I just hope I can get the
SuperHawk back together again, since there are no manuals for the thing within
thousands of light years, if they even exist in this universe.

	`Who got tapped to go down?'

	`Tom and Neelix,' she makes a face.

	They've been feuding recently, so I can see why.  I pick up the shaft
full of gears again, and the pin, shake the shaft a little, then reseat all of
the gears.  That done I try once more, and this time the pin slips into place.
`Finally,' I mutter, adding it to the array in the bottom engine case half.

	`Why aren't we just skimming the atmosphere for the stuff and
reconstitute, grumble, reconstructing it?'

	`I don't know.'

	`Let me get cleaned up a little, then how about we go for some ice
cream?'

	`Sounds good.  Would you like some help getting that thing back
together when we get back?'

	`Yeah, that'd be nice.'

-*

	In the mess we are treated to the amusing sight of Neelix and Paris
rolling around on the floor in a pile of pasta.  I start laughing, contemplate
whether it would be too much for an instant, then let myself fall out of my
chair as I continue to laugh, but I don't roll around or kick my feet too much.

	B'El-chan looks at me like I'm a little weirder than normal, which is
the truth, I guess.

	Paris and Neelix pick themselves up when the captain summons them, but
it takes me a little longer.  I finally get up when I remember that my ice
cream is still melting.

	`Was that really that amusing?'

	`Yes.'

-*

	`I was going over the crew reports, and I noticed that you've moved
yourself to cargo bay two.  Why did you do that?'

	`Well, despite the new sensors we still have no idea where my cruft is
coming from, well, I have a guess about that, but not how it is getting into
my quarters.  Even at six thousand frames a second the new pile appeared
between frames, so I gave up on that.  When I tried two sets of sensors, with
the timing set so that one is catching data while another is in the interframe
lull I had two separate arrival times recorded.  Anyway, after the last
mission you sent me and Hikaru on I returned to find a pair of motorcycles in
my bed.  I figured I'd better move before I ended up trapped between my Ghia
and my futon, since that would be painful or embarrasing, or both, depending.'

	`What is a Ghia?'

	`An automobile.  Mine is a 1971 model, sorta red over most of her
surface, with some spots of other colors.'

	`This is acceptable given the circumstances.  If this occurs in the
future, inform me of it before hand.'

	`Understood,' I look down at her desk, `Anything else?'

	`How is the computer enhancement program working out?'

	`3075 of 4096 nodes are up and running.  The extra heat being generated
between decks eight and seven, six and five, and four and three is being fed
back into the primary recycling system, offsetting the extra energy consumed
by forty-two percent.'

	`Good.  Keep me informed.'

	`I will.'

-*

	`So, how far have you gotten?'

	`Well, so far as I can tell she should run.'  I look at the
still-grubby form of the CB-77, and cross my fingers before kicking her over.

	*Kachumph* not a terribly hopeful sound.  I climb off, passing my
fingers along the wires to feel the current flow as I check the electrical
system once more.  Nothing seems wrong there, and I had Miki check the engine
alignments and timing already, so I straddle the slightly too tall bike once
more, and kick it again.

	*Kachumph* *Kachumph*  with a little bit of frustration I kick it yet
again, *Kachumph - umble umble* and she finaly starts.  I frob the kill switch
open and she shuts off.

	`Wow.  You going to take me for a ride sometime, sailor?' she asks, a
strange gleam in her eye to match the unusual question.

	`If you want, I guess I can.'

-*

	I walk up to the captain, `May I speak with you for a moment before
you send them off?'

	`What about?'

	`I don't like this plan.  We can't pack enough food into a single
shuttle trip to make it worthwhile.  With a little bit of work we should be
able to come up with a method to strain the protiens out of the atmosphere,
then quash them into something vaugely resembling food.'

	`Yes, but,'

	`That wouldn't give Tom and Neelix a chance to destroy a shuttle and
maybe patch things up between them.  Just getting a head-shrinker would work
better, in my not so humble opinion.'

	`Head-shrinker?'

	`Slang term for psycologist, psychiatrist, counselor.'

	`Where would we get one?'

	`Voyager has encountered fairly advanced aliens during her time in the
delta quadrant, so next time we do we could see if we couldn't hire a
xenopsych.'

	Janeway looks shocked, `But how would we get them back home again?'

	`We might not, but so long as we are open about it, it should be OK.'

	`You have two days to figure out a way to get at least a shuttle-load
worth of food out of the atmosphere, or I'll send them down.  Good enough?'

	`Fine.'

-*

	`What's this?'  Janeway looks at the pale off-white block on her desk,
reaching out to poke it, but then loosing her nerve.

	`Artificial tofu substitute.' I smile at her, `It's as nutritious as I
could get it while keeping it generic enough for everyone to be able to eat it.

	`I can make three megagrams of it for the energy cost of a single
shuttle flight, and several hundred gigagrams of it for the cost of replacing a
shutttle.'

	`What kind of raw materials do you need to make it?'

	`Recycling shipboard waste takes care of most of the requirements, and
the rest can be covered by the occasional small stony asteroid.'

	`What are we going to do about Tom and Neelix, though?'

	`We could send them on an evil holodeck adventure together . . . ' I
smile my evil smile, and Janeway smirks back at me.

-*

	`Just a comment,' I butt into the argument between Paris and Neelix,
`If you don't clear this mess between the two of you up you risk waking up in
the holodeck one morning, and having nasty things happen to you.'

	`What do you mean?'

	`You wake up in the pods, go about your business, get sent on a
mission, and quite possibly get badly damaged if you are not careful, and then
find out that you'd been in the pod all day, week, whatever.'

	`What?  Why would anyone do that to us?' Neelix sounds confused.

	`Because you two are being terribly disruptive.  If the two of you
can't come to some sort of arrangement, we'll be forced to play pop-psych on
you.'

	`Pop-psych?' Paris asks.

	`Derogatory term for trying to headshrink someone with no real
training.  It can result in a bigger mess than one started with, but sometimes
works.'

	`I don't like the sound of that.'

	`You're not supposed to,' I turn to walk away, then turn back, `What
are you two arguing about, anyway?'

	`The lieutenant is trying to steal Kes away from me.'

	`Huh.  Why do you think he has a snowball's chance in hell of doing
that?'

	`Hey!'

	`I'm talking to Neelix right now, wait your turn,' I make a face at
Paris.

	`Because . . . ' he fades, flustered, then continues in a slightly
stronger voice, `He's tall, and has Ocampa-like features, and looks a lot more
like a, an attractive Ocampa, and, and, I'm just worried,' he looks down as he
finished, his voice softening.

	`And you, what are you arguing with Neelix over?'

	Paris blinks, `What do you mean?'

	`Why are you picking at Neelix?'

	`I'm trying not to, but when he starts taking potshots at me I,' he
pauses, `respond in kind.' He turns to look at Neelix, `I'm not trying to take
Kes from you,' he pauses, looking down at his toes, `but I'm in love, or at
least severe lust, with her, and your sniping isn't helping me cope, OK?  I've
never been any good at keeping friendships after breaking up with people, so I
really don't want to have anything happen.'

	`Then why are you always so, exuberant, when she's around?'

	`She's my friend,' Paris says with some exasperation.  `How about we
talk about this someplace else?' he glances at me, `Someplace a little more
private.'

	`You might want to have Kes around for the conversation, then.  I'll
talk to you lot in a while.'

	`Yeah, sometime later.'

-*

ed 3166 Confusion 10	

finished drafting 3166 Confusion 19

-*

	`So, what's so important?'

	`You know the ongoing attempt to decouple the Doctor from his image?'

	`Yes.'

	`Good.  The Doctor can now be active without manifesting, and we've
gotten field emitters installed in engineering.  The sims look good, and you
said you wanted to be present for the first attempts at multi-locality.'

	`When would you like me there?'

	`As soon as it seems convinient,' I tell her.

	`I'll be there shortly,' she answers, correctly interpretting me.

-*

	I hop off a console as a frazzled Captain walks through the door, and
Miki flashes a red light at me, indicating that it is active again, and I
shouldn't jump back on it without notifying her first.

	Janeway gives me a look, but doesn't comment about my choice of
seating.  `So, you've been waiting for me?'

	`Yes, Captain,' B'El-chan tells her.  `Doctor, are you ready?'

	`I am.'

	`OK, try it.'

	I glance sideways, bringing the flickering status indicators into
focus.

	`This feels a little odd,' the Doctor continues, picking up the medical
tricorder from the table, only his flat black hands visible

	`How so?' I ask, turning from the now steady indicators.

	`I think being in two places at once may be a little much.  I keep,' he
pauses, `lagging, for several milliseconds at a time.'

	`Hmm,' &Miki, what's the bottleneck?&

	&Chotto matte,&

	`Miki's looking.  Are you noticing any particular triggers for these
lags?'

	The Doctor's hands twitch, indicating a shrug, `Not that I've noticed.'

	`This could be annoying, particularly if we want you to be able to help
out in more than two places.'

	&Mitsuketta!& Miki flashes the data at me.

	`The I/O bandwidth across the ship is being stressed.  Parts of the
Doctor's program are being cached locally, and the lags happen when the caches
sync.'

	`Can't we just leave them un'sync'ed?' the Doctor asks.

	`No, that would probably be bad for you, since then we would have
multiple seperate yous whenever you manifest in more than one place at a time.
We should be able to increase bandwidth sufficiently to compensate.  For the
moment, try dropping to low-res in Sickbay.'

	`Hmm, this is much better.  How long will it take you to increase the
bandwidth?'

	`Don't know.  I should be able to give a better estimate in about a
week.'

	`Do that,' Janeway tells me shortly.

	&Any clue?&

	&Tsukaretta mitai.&  She shows me a quick biochem breakdown.  When I
was that bad off I was snapping at Miki.

-

	`Hello,' Janeway opens the door, her skirts rustling.

	`Mizuno Suekichi, here to see the master of the house.'

	`Mister Mizuno, I'll tell him you are here,' her skirts sush quietly
against the floor.

-

	`What are you doing here?'

	`Thought I'd see what you've been using your 'deck time for.  And it's
an excuse to dress up for a little while.'

	`And the,' she waves at my garb.

	`A Japanese girl at this point wouldn't be in her third year at Oxford.
Nor an English one, for that matter.'

	`I suppose.'

-

	`I have imposed on you for far too long,' I start my escape, expecting
to spend a good five minutes at it before I'll be able to cleanly exit the
program.

	`Not at all,' the Captain's boss replies, and I groan silently.

-

	`Gyeh,' I tell the hallway, glad to be out of not-quite Victorian
England again.

	`Not as much fun as you thought it would be?'

	I look up at B'El-chan, `About as much, actually,' I smile, `which was
not very.'

-

	`Now why do we want to talk to these people?  They have that
reputation, and it isn't that far out of our way to go around.'

	`Because,' she flusters, then gestures for me to accompany her and
Neelix to the mess.

-

	 `I still don't think that it'll be worth the bother.  These people
have a nasty rep, and they don't seem to like us.'  I take a bite out of my
nasty cucumber sandwich like thing.

-

	`_You_ are hallucinating?'

	`It would appear so,' Janeway tells me, `Do you remember anything like
this?'

	`Nope, I missed most of this season.  I kept spacing it, not that it
helped my grades any.'

	`Hmm, you complained about "Nasty cucumber sandwich like things,"'

	`Yeah, murt cakes don't taste anything like that, and have a nicer
texture, too.'

	`Once is coincidence--' Janeway starts.

	`Three times is enemy action,' I finish the quote, leaving out the
middle.

	`So who's the enemy, and why are they doing this?'

	`Probably the people you've been hassling.'

	`I didn't hassle them this much.'

	`You sure?'

	Janeway starts, flinching backwards, and Kes walks over.

	`Just a guess, but you both saw something.'

-

	`So, how the heck are they fucking with your head?' I realize what
I've just said, `Pardon the language.'

	`Just try to avoid it,' Janeway tells me, an amused look on her face,
then looks at the others.

	`Something is poking at these areas of the captain's brain, eliciting,
for lack of a better explanation, a waking nightmare.  I have not been able to
determine how they are causing these effects.'

	`We've got the shields up, and are scanning heavily, but have not
found anything that looks like an intelligently modulated signal.'

	`Is there anything that may be a ship in the area?'

	`No, captian, not that we,' B'El-chan starts, `Cloaking devices.' 

	&Miki?&

	&Hai,& and she flashes three spots with strange emissions, that have
been following V'ger for a while, according to the sensor logs.

	`Fu-- Drat!' I correct myself, `May I shoot at them?  Please?'

	`No,' the captain tells me, `But you can try and disrupt their
cloaks.'

	&Miki, decloak them, please&

	&Ryoukai&

	Two ships of similar design, and one not, appear, and the the two of
similar design turn on the one that isn't.  The one that isn't flees, after
badly damaging one of the other two.

-

	`Are we going to chase after them to make them tell us why the were
mucking about in our heads, or are we going to slink away quietly while we
can?' I ask the captain, sitting on my heels in front of her.

	`I'd like to know why they were doing this, but they have the upper
hand until we figure out how they did,' she pauses, `whatever they did,' she
taps her com badge, `Mister Paris, set a course around Botha space, maximum
warp.'

	`I'll set up something to watch for cloaked vessels full-time.'

	`Please, that would be usefull.'

-

	`Hey,' I tell B'El-chan, as she slips into the nest I've marked off
from the rest of Cargo Bay Two, in one of the far corners.  The outer "wall"
consists of shelves, books on the outside, with a section indented a couple
feet against the wall on one side, forming a door, and my filing cabnet boxing
out a small entry room.  I gather the pile of junk paper I'd made, and throw
it into the trash-box.

	`Hey,' she tells me, wrapping warm arms around my waist, pressing
herself to my back.

	`Mmmn,' I make a happy noise, `What's up?'

	`Thought I'd come see you.'

	`Thank you,' I say softly, caressing her hands with my own, and twist
my head to press my cheek against her face.


-*

3166 Bureaucracy? ??
ed/additons 3166 Bureaucracy 40,41 

-*

	`That's a blessing for the earth, wishing the land a speedy recovery.'

	`We should probably test you for metacog, huh?' I tell Chakotay.

	`What do you mean?'

	`How the heck do you know that _that_ is a blessing?  I mean, I could
guess, but how do you know?'

	`It is the same symbol as the Rubber Tree People used.' I can sense
the capitolization of that name.

	`Are you sure?'

	`Yes, they taught it to me themselves,' and he proceeds to tell the
full story, with five part harmony and stuff like that, of how when he was
younger he got dragged off to meet the Rubber Tree People, and how he didn't
like it, and how there were bugs and trees and rocks and things, and how it
felt good to be out of the rain, well, not that last, but . . .

	`The sky spirits came from somewhere else, according to the stories,
so I was wondering if it might not be here.'

	`Ah!  And if they can get to earth in a reasonable amount of time,'

	`They could teach us,' B'El-chan says, wrapping an arm around my
shoulders as she comes up from behind, a sample-case in hand.

-*

	We get back to the ship, and it is decided to follow the presumed sky
spirits.

-*

	`So, you've decided to be ill for a while?'

	`I decided that I should set an example of proper coping behavior.'

	I make a face, `I don't think this is the best way, since you know when
the "illness" will go away.'

	`So what would you recommend instead?'

	`Make arrangements so that one of us has control over how and why you
get sick, and how long it will last.  Then, at some later point you will get
sick, and that way you will get more of the full experience of being ill.'

	`But that would,' he stops, realizing just how badly that would
undermine his arguments.

	`Suck?'

	He nods, almost imperceptably.

	`Yep, it would.  The patients don't whine intentionally, really.'

-*

	`Maybe they're trying to tell us something,' I opine, `Like "Go Away".'

	`They could be.  Let's try a shuttle anyway,' she pauses, `Tuvok,
Chakotay, Suika, Torres, take Hikaru and try to land near the mineral
deposits.'

	`Yes, captain,' I reply, standing up and heading for the Jeffries tube.

-*

	`Hey,' B'El-chan says, slipping around my filing cabnet.

	`Hey,' I reply, pulling my softsuit up, then adjust my sleeves, over my
chest, across my hips, and at the feet.  That done, I look up at her and smile,
`Haven't seen you all day.'

	`It's nice to see you, too,' she steps over and wraps her arms around
me, pressing the side of her face to the top of my head.  I hug her back, the
soft grey synthetic of her softsuit nice under my fingers.

	`Let me get my poncho,' I mutter after a little bit.

	She lets go, and I pull the dark blue wool over my head, then hold out
my hand, `Shall we?'

	`Let's.'

-*

	I slip into my HardSuit, closing the armour over the softsuit, then
pick the helmet up.  I leave my poncho hanging in my HardSuit's locker and
close the door.

	B'El-chan is already waiting, and a short time later Tuvok and Chakotay
show up.

	Tuvok is wearing a set of Rivant armour, and Chakotay has on the
softsuit for his ugly federation armour.

	We wait a little longer for Chakotay to dress out, and I run the first
three quarters of the checklist while I wait.

-*

	`Oh joy, more storms,' I grumble, letting Hikaru drop like a rock,
relying on the fighter's built-in thermal protection system to cope with the
stress of reentry.

	I'm really glad to have my helmet on, since the ride is more than a
little bumpy.

-*

	`Well, we made it to the dirt alive,' I say, `Now, lets see if there is
anything interesting to report right around the landing site.'  The readings
look pretty boring to me, &Miki, anything?&

	&Nan de mo nai.&

	&Good 'nuff&

	`Nothing on sensors, other than the mineral deposit.'

-*

	`This looks just like an orchid I saw during my trip to the Rubber Tree
People,' Chakotay says of a flower.

	I scan it, &Xref it, Miki&

	&Chikyuu no hana& Miki tells me, giving me a quick little table on
them.

	`It's found in the Amazon rain forest.'

	`That's a good sign,' B'El-chan says.

	I nod, `The minerals are that way, and at about a meter, meter and a
half down.'

-*

	`Cool,' I murmor, examining the artifacts littering the small
dwelling.  They seem designed for a humanoid hand, not too big, probably about
proper-sized.

	`This, too, is quite similar to Brazil,' Chakotay tells us, turning
slowly in place, `I can't believe a warp capable society would live like this.'

	`I have a bit more trouble with the "could" live like this, myself,' I
turn to Chakotay, `I can see advantages to this, but one needs at least a fair
bit if nanotech to maintain warp cababilities.'

	B'El-chan looks at me like I'm a little weird, again.

	After a moment, Chakotay orders us to lay down our weapons.  I blink at
that, but set the caps to bleed dry, anyway, since I can't actually take the
weapons they power off.


	Chakotay raises his hands in one of the classic surrender positions,
and the weather changes.

	It had been fairly nice, quiet, calm, vaugely sunny, and now it went
quite wet, with thunder and lightning to help.

	`So, what do we do?' I ask, flinching when a nearby tree falls, blown
down by the winds.

	`You head back to the sh-- Hikaru, and I'll stay here and keep trying
to make contact.'

	`OK, call us if you need us,' I tell him, and follow Tuvok back towards
Hikaru.

-*

	`Anything from Chakotay?' the captain asks again.

	`You are listening to the same channels we are,' I tell her, slightly
exasperated, `But, as you may have noticed, it's clear out again.'

	`Do you have any idea why he took his armour off?'

	`He was mumbling about how his father got tattooed, remember, then said
he'd be out of communication for a little while.'

	`I'm overreacting, hmm?'

	`You said it, not me.'

-*

	&Hora!& Miki yells, showing the planet as viewed through the ships
sensors.

	`Interesting, we now have cities to look at.'

	`Chakotay to Voyager, negotiations have been completed successfully.'

	`It is good to hear that, Commander.'
-*

	`Grr,' I grumble, lifting another shovelful of dirt, `I can understand
why they'd want us to dig by hand, but still, you'd think they'd let us bring
down some more people to help dig.'  I pause, scrape some sweaty dirt off my
collarbone, then out from under my fingernails.  I then shove the loose wisps
of my hair back behind my ears again, scowl, and pick up another shovelful of
dirt.

	`I think they just want to bother you, actually,' B'El-chan tells me
cheerfully, looking quite wonderful in her dark shorts and grey tank-top, `Or
maybe they wanted to see what you looked like under that HardSuit,' she leers
at me, a smile on her face.

	`Very funny.'

	`Quit flirting and dig faster,' Chakotay tells us, tossing another
shovelfull of dirt onto the pile.

-*

3166 Bureaurocracy, about 45

-*

	I read the page again, for a fifth time, then give up.

-

	I lean against a handy console, watching B'El-chan work, admiring the
play of tendons under the skin of her hands, the soft sparkle of her eyes, the
grace of her movements.  After a little while, she gives another set of
orders, then comes over.

	`Hey,' she tells me, her hand, as always, warm against me through my
shirt.

	`B'El-chan,' I whine, `I'm bored, give me something to do.' I drag the
last word out, quavering a little in the middle of it.

	`The Jeffries tubes are always dirty, so, do something about that, if
you could,' she traces a streak of grey dust on the thigh of my jeans.

	`Thanks!' I tell her, already pondering ways, then stretch up a little
on my toes, and gently kiss her on the lips, feeling terribly bold.

	I break the kiss quickly, and she smiles as she brings her fingers to
her lips, before turning back to her work.

-

	I sit on the floor, playing with holographic protypes, working with
one for a few moments, then deciding that it won't do, either.

	B'El-chan enters, and stands, watching as I decide that the latest
protype doesn't sound right, either.  I lean back and smile at her.

	`What are you up to?' she steps over, dropping to her knees beside me,
her hand soft on my shoulder, warm and nice.

	`These things don't scuttle properly,' I complain, shifting to press
my full side against her.

	She wraps her arm around my shoulders, and I lay my head against hers,
`Why do they need to scuttle?'

	`Becouse I want them to clean the Jeffries tubes, and I want to call
them scutters, and if they don't scuttle it's just a rather pointless Red
Dwarf ref.'

	`I still want to see that show,' she tells me, her free hand
scratching lightly at the back of my neck, under my braid, `So they need to
scuttle.  They've already got a lot of legs, and it seems you are working on
some sort of fringe to make them rattle, so what's wrong?'

	`The fringe needs to be able to pick up dirt and stuff,' I make an
appreciative noise as she shifts her hand, `'n if the joints make the
scuttling noise, they will wear too fast, so that's out, and if they have too
many legs, they trip over them.'  I whine softly to indicate my displeasure.

	`Mix noise-makers with the fringe?' her other hand rubs small circles
on my shoulder.

	I groan, and rub my face against her shoulder, `I obviously put too
much time into this today.'

	`So,' she prompts after a little while, `are we going to test that?'

	`No, I know it'll work, and this is much nicer.' I wrap both arms
around her waist, squeezing myself against her warmth.

-

	I wake in the morning, B'El-chan's warm body partly under mine, still
mostly dressed, to the feel of toes poking me in the back.

	`You can get up now, you lazy student,' shimu tells me, her
holographic toes poking me in the back again.

	I wiggle out of bed, without waking B'El-chan, and pull the blankets
back up over her.  That done, I turn back to shimu, `Good morning.'

-

	The captain had offered to just let me replicate, or nanoconstruct, a,
as she put it, `Proper sonic shower,' but I'd already modified the
equipment-cleaner.  The lowest setting is still a little high for most people,
but I don't mind, and the industrial sonic unit still works for its initial
purpose, solventless cleaning of parts.

	I admit, it being hidden in my mess doesn't help, but still, it's the
thought that sometimes counts.  I shut it down, and pull on a clean set of
clothes, throwing the old set into the hamper to be cleaned later.

	B'El-chan is still asleep, so I kneel at the side of my futon,
admiring the smooth perfection of her coffee-colored skin, the lovely contrast
to my own recent titanium-dioxide whitenes.  I reach out, cup her cheek in my
palm.

	She wakes, sleepily, blinking, `Grumphl moring.'

	`Good morning,' I respond, bending over to press my lips against her
forehead, then back a little so I can watch her, `I'm cooking breakfast this
morning, come and eat something, if you'd like.'

	`Sure.'

-

	`Good morning,' I greet Neelix, `what have we got this morning?'

	`We've got replicated desicated potato hash browns, leola root,
synth-tofu, and an assortment of fresh fruits and vegitables.'

	`Cool,' I murmor, contemplating what to cook, as I wander behind the
counter to look over the selection of fruits and veggies.

	`Do you have any idea why more people come by to eat when you cook?'

	`Nope.  Your food, recently, is better than mine.  Maybe they just
want to be able to grumble about the food again.'

	`But they don't,' Neelix pauses, `Grumble, that is.  They just eat
whatever you cook, and ask for seconds more frequently.'

	`That's odd,' I say, pulling a passle of merlots out, and slicing
them, `Could you fry the tofu?'

	`Sure.'

-

	I fish a merlot slice off my plate, the cool apple-like consistancy a
pleasant contrast to the capsium burn it carries.

	`Well, what are you up to today?' the Captain asks me, slipping into
the seat on my left, B'El-chan having taken the one on my right.

	`Well, I'm working on an engineering problem, but I've got it mostly
licked,' B'El-chan snickers, and Janeway makes a choked noise.  She's blushing
when I turn to look at her, `You,' I say severely, `are a perv.  It's just
keeping the Jeffries tubes clean, and I've got some cute little mechanoids to
do it with.  The 'puter upgrade is done, and we have over three thousand times
as much processing power as we started with, and things seem to be stable with
that.  The bandwidth increase is done, and fixed the problems with the doctor
lagging.  Working on the mechanoids yesterday triggered a bunch of little
ideas, but I won't have anything to show for them for a while.'

	`OK, I was thinking that you could look into upgrading the shuttles,
since we keep sending Hikaru out whenever we have a mission.'

	`I've got a fighter plan or two I'd like to build,' I tell her.

	`How much mass are we looking at?'

	`Couple hundred megagrams.'

	`Yoyager is only a couple gigagrams.'

	`I know.  I'll try to keep things light.'

	`Well then, I'll have a set of shuttle-specs soon.'

	`That should be fine.'

	B'El-chan strokes my thigh as Janeway walks off, and I turn to look at
her, `You aren't much help,' I grouse, smiling, then lean in and kiss her.

-

	`So,' I look at the little prototype, scuttling over the floor, `Is
the floor actually cleaner after you are done with it?'

	I wave my hands over its path, watching the tricorder readings,
`Good, good.' &Miki, start the rest&

	&Ryoukai&

	I walk up to the scutter and catch it, lifting it into my arms.  It
obiediently folds its legs, gathers its fringe, and curls its back a little,
making itself an easier to carry package.  I walk out, noting that last
night's arrival was a grubby canvas bag, and whatever is in it.

-

	I let the scutter go in the Jeffries tube, and it scurries off into
it.

-

	Inside the bag, I find, is a creature.  I feel the bag a little more,
an the creature hisses in displeasure.  The creature is probably a lizard,
since it seems to have a long tail, clawed feet, and a fairly long neck.

	I settle myself onto my rolled-up futon, the bag in my lap, then untie
its neck.  The creature is quiet, now that the bag isn't moving around and I'm
not hassling her, so I pull the neck open a little and look in on her.

	The canvas is thick, blocking most of the light, so I can't see very
well, but she looks, indeed, to be a large lizard, a pale grey with darker
keels on some of her scales, making her look spotted.  I reach into the bag
and grab her carefully about the neck with one hand, carefully so that she
can't bite me, and I don't squish her.  With my other hand I awkwardly pull
the bag off, leaving me with two hands full of annoyed, long-clawed lizard.

	Her head is fairly long, like her neck, and her nostrils are set high
on her nose, about halfway back from the tip to her eyes.  Her ears are large,
shaped like crescent moons.  She grabs me with all four hands, scratching
hard, black claws about a centimeter long digging into my skin, but not
breaking it.  I give a momentary thought of thanks for having toughened it.

	I adjust her in my arms, shifting to hold her under her shoulders, her
body as long as my forearm, and her tail draping over the futon.  It has a
ridge down almost the entire length, indicating to me she's a swimming lizard,
but it is really crinkled, like it had been broken or something in several
places.  She has a little scab right at the tip of it.

	She hisses, scratching at me, so I stroke her back.  She twists her
head around to try and bite me.

	I hold her for a while, petting her occasionally, then get tired of
that.  I get up, and poke through some of the piles with my toes, eventually
finding a belt, which I pick up.  I then stuff her up under my tee shirt, and
belt it down, trapping her inside.  I pet her through it, and twitch a little
as her claws scrape my belly.

	`Let's get you someplace else to live, OK?' I tell her, and wander out
to the construction facility.  &Miki, what kind of lizard is she?&

	&Nile Monitor desu.  Otoko no.&  He's a male Nile Monitor lizard.

	&what kind of enclosure does he need?&

	&Kou& and she brings up several designs.

	I choose one, &build one of these, use scrap asteroid for the sides
and bottom, poly for the face, light in the top, heated&

	&Shou shou machi kudasai.&

	I wait a little bit, watching the faint breeze of the ventilators
ruffle the plants.

	&dekimashita& and one of the gross manip bays open, and I fish the
tank out, carrying the massive thing carefully, rather afraid I'll drop it,
but get it across the room and through the door into my nest.  I set it down,
then go back for a bucket full of scrap-sand, carefully bonded bits of useless
impurities, mostly silicon, with a few traces of light elements.  The stuff is
black, with the occasional lighter grain, and is generated slowly enough that
I've not figured out a proper way to deal with it.  I scan the bucket-full
I've grabbed, and it's clean, as expected.  I haul it over to my friend's tank
and dump it in.

	After that I look for a bowl to use as a water dish, but don't find
one.  &Miki, water dish, trans al, big enough for a lizard bath, self
cleaning?&

	&hai&

	OK, that was easy.

	&Tanku ni&  I walk out and fish it out, appreciating, again, having
gotten to the point where the constructor can do its own setup and assembly,
at least on small things.

	I set it in the cage, then bring over water a jar at a time until it
is full.  The preparations complete I fish the lizard out of my shirt.

	`I almost think I know you.' I stare at him a little, as he hisses,
holding tight to my forearm.

	`That's it!  Aren't you Gaigan?  Dawn's scary lizard?  The one she
wouldn't let me hassle?'  He shifts his grip, scratching at me, `You have the
claws for it,' I tell him, `So, unless something comes up to tell me otherwise
I'll assume you are, OK?'

	He glares at me rather balefully.  I stick him into the cage, and he
quickly scrambles off of my arm, and I close the lid, trapping him inside.

	`Yeah, you're a cute one, alright.  Need to do something about that
tail, though.  The doc can probably fix it right up.'

	I sprawl myself across my still-rolled futon, and let my eyes close
for a few moments.

-*

Yay!  This one took a long time -- 3166 Aftermath 66 23:33
Ouch.

-* 

	`What're you reading?' B'El-chan asks, settling herself against my
back, her head on my shoulder.  I shimmy my shoulders a little bit, but don't
open my eyes.

	`Info on pain sticks.  No permanent damage, direct neural stimulation,
lots of fun.'

	`What for?'

	`Safety mods, I'm thinking that simulating damage is almost as good
for training person, grumble, purposes as actually inducing it.'

	`Possibly,' she allows, nestling in a little closer, `How're things on
the lizard front?'

	`Gigan's calming down.'

	`He should be, since he's spending more time with you than I am,
recently.'

	`He's smaller, and more portable,' I allow, turning to brush my cheek
against her face, `And he isn't the chief engineer.'

	`Yeah, but,' she trails off, wrapping her arms around me and holding
me tight.

	`I'm quite pissed about the recent bout of engine trouble.  Have you
killed it yet?'

	`Not yet.  We've got it contained, though.'

	`That's good.  Does that mean I'll get to eat dinner with you,
tonight?'

	`It might,' I can feel her smile against my cheek, `Provided the
engines behave, and you get off the 'puter.'

	I pull up one of her hands, fold her fingers down, and rap her
knuckles three times against my head.  She giggles about my superstious
behavior, and I press my thumbs to my opposite pinky-fingers, folding the X
server out of my vision.

	`Does it actually avoid the "jinx?"' she asks, pulling me to my feet.

	`Can't prove it.  Can't disprove it, neither,' I shrug, stepping close
and pressing my face to her neck.

-

	`Sorry to interupt, but,' the captain starts.

	`You want us to pull the bacon out of the fire before it burns,' I
grumble, looking at my half eaten dinner.

	`Something like that.'

	`Might we finish our dinner, first?'

	`It isn't that urgent,' she allows.

	I start eating faster, and manage to finish the remarkably good
steamed green vegitable in opaque orange sauce in a couple minutes.  B'El-chan
finishes as I drain my coffee-cup.

	`What's the problem?'

	`The Caretaker was making a lot of noise, just a bit ago.'  I take a
perverse pleasure in Janeway's twisted syntax.

-

	`Or, rather than being the other Caretaker, it could just be some
other godlike being, who would be upset by our hassling them,' I say, holding
the warm gemstone of the Caretaker's corpse.

	`Are you always this cheerful?' the captain asks.

	`Yes,' B'El-chan answers for me, `Unless it's really early in the
morning.'

	`What do you mean by that?' I ask, my annoyed tone belied by the smile
on my face.

	`You're asleep then,' she smiles.

	I start towards her, hand raised, corpse tucked under the other arm,
fingers wiggling, but the captain breaks us up before we get too distracted.

	`Like a bunch of little kids,' she mutters.

	`You talking about us?'  Paris asks, as he and Neelix enter the room.

	`No, but you three are too,' she points at me with her chin.

	`What is it this time?'

	`I was just gonna tickle her a little,' I whine.

	Paris laughs approvingly.

	`So, could we just put the dead guy someplace with a nice plaque and
leave well enough alone?'

	`If we find this other sporocystian life form it might be able to get
us home.'

	`I've seen parts of five more seasons, so I don't think so.'

	`How do you know that your presence hasn't changed things?'

	`I didn't watch this season, so I don't.'

	`Then help B'Elanna get the Caretaker attached to the navigational
arrays, then prep Hikaru.'

	`Ryoukai!' I snap, thumping my fist against my chest as I snap my
heels together.

	`You!' she groans in annoyance, `If you weren't a civilian--'

	`I'd have to cut my hair, right, captain?'

	She snorts a strangled laugh, `Go.'

-

	`You're not wanted here!' growls the man on the screen, who then
breaks the connection.

	`We're gonna nuke 'em,' I predict to the air.

	`We are not!' the captain growls at me, `How can you be so negative
all the time?'

	`Practice.'

-

	We hail them again, only this time we have Kes front and center as the
sacrifice.  Neelix and Paris both seem nervous, although it is a little harder
to tell with Paris, since he actually has something to do, other than just
stand around and wait for bad things to happen.

	The man on the screen is much happier after the introductions. Kes,
however, looks a little nauseous.

	After a very short while, in which they decline to give us the chance
to plant bombs on their array, but agree to be given one to plant things on
V'ger, they sign off, to prepare their party.

-

	`Do you have any idea how your people are regarded--'

	`Some,' I smile at him, `We're the meanest, most powerful people to
wander the local space since the Slavers fell, some six billion years ago or
so, right?'

	`I wouldn't go that far--'

	`I would.  I've got a nickle that says that you are going to piss the
captain off, and we're gonna blow the lot of you to gleaming bits.'

	`We would never--' `How could--' both the Ocampa, Tanis, and the
captain start at the same time.

	I smile at them.

-

	Things have calmed down a little, Kes has smoothed feathers on both
sides, and Paris has, almost covertly, bonked me on the back of the head.

	The rant has moved to the structure of the metaphawhosiwhatsit, which
is part of the trade agreement, which somehow relates to getting the caretaker
to get us out of the local area.

	Kes starts, and I follow her glance to Tanis, and poke Paris with my
foot, then point with my chin first to Kes, then to Tanis.  Paris pokes
Neelix, and repeats the gesture.

-

	I walk around the garden into my room, flopping onto my futon to
listen in on the conversation outside.   After a little bit I remember one of
my projects, and swing it out, the relatively small passive amplifier
foccusing quickly on the two in the garden.  I listen at the almost random
flux of their brainwaves, trying to turn the patterns into something usefull,
while I just record the conversation for later use or abuse.

	Paris and Neelix pop up through the floor into my little entry room,
then knock softly before entering.

	`Anything interesting?'

	`Tanis ranting, mostly.  Lifespan of twenty years, powers beyond those
of mere mortals, Suspiria is the better god, that sort of thing.  Ask Kes if
you can listen to the recording.'

	`And you don't have to ask?' Paris asks me, keeping his voice down.

	`They're chattering right on the other side of my bookshelf, and I
walked through quite blattently.'

	`OK.'

-

	I manage to avoid dinner, and Kes finds me afterwards with my head
under a pillow.

	`What,' I grumble, knowing that there is someone in my room, and that
they're V'ger crew, but not bothering with anything else.

	`I wanted to talk to you about Tanis.'

	I pull my head back out, arrange my sheets, and sit back against the
wall, `What about him?' I wave for her to find a seat on one of the piles.

	She sits on the short stack of DECserver 200s, `He's offered to train
me in the use of my powers.'

	`Hmm.  I wouldn't trust him to teach me how to turn a screw, let
alone . . . '

	`There's something slimy about him, and not in a good way.  But if he
knows how my powers are supposed to work . . . '

	`Yep.  But he only knows what Suspiria wants him to know, which may
well not be what you should know, if you know,' I stop, snort, and make a
face.

	`That's true too.  Did you finish that project you were working on?'

	`Which one?' I try to remember which of my projects I'd told her
about.

	`The one where you were trying to mount a phaser in your palm or
something?'

	`Oh!  Yes, I finished it.  Enough power to stun everyone on a small
starship.'

	`Could you just come along, watch things, stun people if things get
out of hand?'

	`I 'spose.'

-

	B'El-chan's lap is very comfy, and I'm almost asleep as I watch Tanis
and Kes contemplate a cup of the current ersatz, Paris and Neelix hovering
from either side.

	She moves the cup, and makes it boil, and Tanis is mean to both Neelix
and Paris.

	After a bit Tanis leaves, and she comforts the both of them a little.

	Tuvok comes by to check on her as I'm getting ready to leave,
contemplating whether I want to finish my cup of ersatz, since the grain used
this time is particularly nasty.

	A soft "crack" noise, followed by a louder `Help!' gets my attention
back, and I drop Kes.  Someone calls for an emergency beam-out for Tuvok.

	`Will she?' Neelix asks.

	`She asked me to stun anyone who seemed to be getting out of hand.
She'll have a bit of a headache, but she'll be OK.'

-

	I walk into Cargo Bay Two to see Tanis and Kes, and the plants growing
too fast.

	I start towards my room when I hear Tanis say, `Now, bring on the
fire!'

	Without even stopping to think I spin and stun them both.  Leaving
them on the ground, the plants smoldering a little, I run to check on my
friend the lizard.

	A quick scan shows that he's OK, so I coerce him into sitting across
my shoulders, then head out to where Tanis is just starting to wake up.

	`What the fuck were you thinking?' I ask him.

	`I was just showing Kes--'

	`OK, you weren't.  If you want to make a mess out of someones room, it
should be yours.  If I catch you in my cargo bay again I'm going to be pissed,
OK?' I ask.  He doesn't respond, so I kick him, fairly lightly, `OK?'

	His only responce is a narrowing of his eyes and a change in his
brainwave patterns, so I stun him again.

	With one hand on Gigan I grab him by one hand and pull him from the
room, dropping him in the hall.

	`Kes?' I ask, poking her much more gently with the toe of my boot.

	`Yeah,' she mumbles, waking.

	`The plants will need some help if they're gonna survive, Gigan's OK,
I stunned Tanis twice, so you might want to be there to deal with him when he
wakes up.'

	`Neelix?  Tom?'

	`Not here.'

	`Good,' with that she levers herself up, and staggers from the bay,
pausing, I note, to kick Tanis fairly hard, for her, in the ribs.  He mumbles
something, so, as the door is closing, she's drawing back her foot.

-

	`You were right, it really does feel good to kick someone you're
ticked off at,' Kes smiles at me.  She'd dragged him to the turbolift, and
then had him beamed back to the array.

	His replacement is a rather pleasant young woman, actually.

-

	`Oh, come off it.  If we'd killed him we'd be bragging about it, and
you'd be a nice green stone to mount next to his corpse.  We just hadn't
figured out what to do with the remains,' I growl at the, momentarily, stunned
Suspiria.

	`The captain hopes that you'll get us out of your hair by sending us
home.'

	`Fuck you.'  I blink, and Suspiria and Tanis's replacement both
vanish.

	`That was blunt,' the captain manages after a few minutes.

-

	`Well, I can boil water, and move cups around, but that's about it.
Anything more is beyond me right now.'

	`Is it because Suspiria's presense intensified things, or is it a
block of some sort from cooking both Tuvok and your garden, or something
else?' Paris asks.

	`I don't know.  Suika?'

	`Lemme look,' I run some quick diffs, `nothing that showed up in the
scans that I made.  Probably it is a block, put up to keep you from hurting
yourself until your control is better.'

	`But I've only hurt others.'

	`Which causes you pretty severe emotional distress.'

	`Oh, right,' she looks a little lost, and Neelix quickly wraps her in
a hug, and Paris wraps himself around the both of them.

-*

3167 Chaos 22
Gyah!  I sure blocked on that one for a long time.

-*

	`OK, we have a Fed beacon.  One that hadn't actually been issued when
we left, you left, whatever.  It's sixteen lightyears out, in a dust cloud.'

	`Right,' Janeway tells me.

	`So, we kit out one of the spare whiskers, send it out ahead of us,
and it should be able to get there about four days before we do, and tell us
exactly what's going on with it.

	`At our current speed, we have twelve days before we reach it.  I
should, with a little help, be able to mount those rail cannon we built in
nine.'

	`I'm still not sure that they'll be effective against starships, and
they really do make V'ger look a lot more militant.'

	`The sims say they'll be as effective as phasers twenty percent of the
time, more effective thirty, and more energy efficient all of the time.
Firing active warp sustainers, or the small subspace flux devices,
particularly in warp, they will be orders of magnitude more useful than
phasers, and the rounds are much cheaper to make than photon torpedos.'

	`Besides, Captain,' B'El-chan speaks up, `We already have a
reputation, we might as well look like we deserve it.'

	Janeway gives her a Look.

-

	`We get to mount the forward ventral turret, and the four cannon it's
designed to take.  If they prove to be effective, or useful, we can mount the
others,' B'El-chan tells me, a hand on my shoulder.  I flop my head over,
brush my cheek against it, then turn back to the whisker on the floor, the two
meter long Miranda-class ship getting her final checkup before being sent out.
A few moments later I'm done, and look up at B'El-chan.

	`Help me get this to an airlock?' I indicate the whisker with my
chin.

	`Sure.'

	I pick it up by the left nacelle, B'El-chan grabs the other, and
together we stagger it to the 'lock.  We place it on the floor, step back, and
cycle it through.  It comes online as the air is evacuated, and leaves the
ship under its own impulse power.  After a moment it leaves V'ger's warp
field, and disappears.

	A second or so later I feel it flash past us, and turn to B'El-chan,
`When do we start mounting the turret?'

	`Tomorrow morning, I was thinking.'

	`And tonight?'  I step over a scutter, walking next to her, my hip
brushing hers every few steps.

	`I was wondering if my bottomless sink would be willing to buy us
dinner?'

	`Bottomless sink?  Who's that?' I ask lightly, teasing.

	`Oh!' she says, mock-exasperated.  Took me a while to learn the
difference.

	`I think I could manage.  Anything particular, or are you leaving
yourself at my non-existant mercy?'

	`I was hoping you would have something in mind.'

	`Pizza.  Green chile and pineapple, and Coke.  Sound good?'

	`Good,' she walks with me a few steps, then, `Coke is that stuff you
were using as a rust-remover, isn't it?'

	`Yep.'

	`OK,' and she ruffles my hair a little.

-

	`What's with the war-paint?' B'El-chan asks, draping a hand onto my
shoulder.

	`Janeway's comment about me looking like death warmed over,' I
indicate the array of blue, black, and grey powders I've got spread on a clear
spot, a small mirror at the back of it.  I brush some more blue onto my cheek,
then look in the mirror to check the affect.

	`So you are going to prove that she was wrong?'

	`No, just see if I can't scare the Kazon out of a years growth,' I
pull back a little, to check the overall affect.  Black stuff around my eyes
makes them look sunken, the bright green shimmer even more startling.  The
blue stuff and grey stuff on my cheeks makes them look nicely hollow, and the
black lipstick just looks nice.  I smile at my reflection.

	`Why do you think they thought this would work?'

	`Because,' and I lever myself off the floor, then hunker down on my
heels to gather the powders, closing the containers as I do.  `A very few
months ago, you wouldn't have noticed the beacon until you were almost on top
of it,'  I pile them on the mirror, stand, and stuff them in the top of a box,
`And you wouldn't have been able to send a whisker out to check,' I offer my
hand to B'El-chan, and she takes it, starting to lead me from the room, `And
you didn't have ol' paranoid here to say that it must be a trap.'

	`C'mon, Ol' Paranoid, let's get to the bridge.'

	`Just a moment.'

-

	`So, are we going to stick our noses into the trap?' I ask, after
Janeway blinks at my makeup.

	`I was thinking that wouldn't be the best idea.'

	`So, what are we going to do?'

	`Mr. Kim, open hailing frequencies to the Kazon.'

	`Hailing frequencies open, Captain.'

	`Thank you, Mr. Kim.  Seska,' she turns towards the viewscreen, `I see
you have picked up a new patron.'

	`I am First Maj Culla of the Kazon Nistram,' he glares off to the
side, `What do you know of Seska?'

	`She is a traitor, an enemy of this crew, and a psycopath.'

	`I am not a psycopath,' and Seska steps into view, then gasps,
apparently at the sight of me, staring at the point I'm standing in, `I,' she
recovers, mostly, not looking in my direction, `Am a sociopath.  There is a
difference.'

	`I am the patron saint of the Kazon Ogla.  I'd go away, were I you,
before I, being me, decided to play with your sect, Maj.'

	`Surprise is blown.  We should leave,' Seska tells the Maj, not
looking at me.

	`What were you after?' I ask, smiling at the way Seska flinches when
she looks at me.

	`We were going to steal some parts,' she says, obviously rattled.

	`Oh?  What sort?'

	`Transporter modules,' she says, turning to look directly at me,
strain showing around her eyes.

	`Oh.  Well, I don't think that is a good idea,' I smile at her.

	`OK.  Let's leave, before she decides to make good on her threats.'

	`What are you talking about, woman?'

	`I am talking about not ticking off the avatar of T'clat.'

	&Miki?  T'clat wa daaare?&

	&Eh-tou, Cardassia no shinugami desu&

	A Cardassian death god?  She's kinda cute, which figures.

	`What gave me away?  The outfit?' I flap the loose black shirt, then
wave down, indicating the black skirt, tights, and boots.

	`That helped.  The creature on your shoulder and the pallor clinched
it.'

	I pet Gigan with my free hand, `How do you know I'm not just wearing
this, and makeup, to freak you out?'

	`It doesn't matter.  Putting on the makeup and outfit draws T'clat,
lets her act through you.  We should leave,' she turns towards Culla, her
voice a little strained.

	`Maybe you should come back here before the Kazon decide you aren't
worth the problems you bring and off ya,' I smile, continuing to pet Gigan's
back, as he glares around the bridge, a little stressed.

	Seska blinks, looks down, `Yes,' she whispers, just loud enough for
the translator to pick up.

	`Shall we?' I ask the Captain.

	&Miki, prepare to drop their shields and weapons, then beam her back&

	&Ryoukai!&

	She pauses to think a few moments, then, `Do it.'

	&You heard the captain.&

	The coaxial laser cuts right through their shields, the green beam
ignored as `mere' visible light, and cooks the Kazon shield generator, then
the turret shifts, reaiming the laser.  Two more seconds reduce their
fire-control systems to scrap.

	`Welcome back,' I smile at the Cardassian, `I'm Suika,' and give her a
chest-thump salute and bow.

	Culla sputters on screen, `Fire!  Shoot them!'

	`Sir, the weapons aren't responding!'

	`You should have left when Seska first suggested it,' I tell him,
smiling.  Seska has sat herself on the deck, feet together, head tucked
between her knees, making herself small.

	&Miki&

	&Naani?&

	&Tell Kahr about the Nistram.&

	&Yarimashita.&

	&And?&

	&Nijikan gurai&

	`If you have good sense, you will run away fast, and fix your weapons
systems.  The Ogla will be here in two hours, and they will be quite happy to
assimilate you.'

	`Why will the Ogla be here?' Culla really isn't the smartest fish on
the beach, is he.

	`What were you doing with such a dunce?' I ask Seska.  She shakes her
head without moving it from between her knees.  `Because, I am their patron,
and told them that you were here and close to helpless.  You should run away
and hide, they'll feel better about it when they catch you that way.'

	`Get us out of here,' Culla barks, scowling, `And get them off my
screen!'

-

	`What are we going to do with her?' Janeway scowls at the monitor,
which shows Seska, who is in a locked room.

	`I scared the heck out of her, but I don't think that'll be enough to
keep her out of trouble.  Part of the problem is that, amoung Cardassians,
sociopathy is normal.  It is the crazy people who have a conscience.  There is
a good bit in the black about ways Cardassians cure crazy Cardassians, but
they don't have anything about how to drive her crazy.  Usefully crazy,
anyway.'

	`Doctor?'

	`I think I might have a technique, based on reversing a Cardassian
technique for inducing sociopathy.  If we give her the proper coctail of
chemicals, and the proper support, we should be able to mold her the proper
way.'

	`And she's willing to submit to this?' the captain asks him.

	`She was,' I answer instead, `Raised a Bajoran, despite her actual
heritage, and was quite conscious of the fact that she just didn't fit in.
This, and her perception of my status, means she's willing to take whatever
steps I think are nescessary to gain a measure of normalicy.

	`As a sign of goodwill, or at least willingness to cooperate, she told
me she used one of her doses of.'

	&Miki?&

	&Teclicine?&

	`Teclicine, it sounded like, on a Sara Conner, in an attempted
acquaintence rape.  Conner fought her off, but not before she had a chance to
work a number on the poor woman's mind.'

	`Isn't that,' the captain starts,

	`A drug developed by the Obsidian Order for interogation and general
torture,' Chakotay interupts, `It leaves the victim highly suggestable right
after it is administered, and binds the memories to a debilitating feeling of
guilt.'

	`That's what she told me.  She then compounded the damage by spreading
rumors about Conner being,' I pause, searching for the proper words, and then
for ones that aren't as purjorative as the ones I found first, `a ladykiller.'

	`Slut,' someone mutters.  A male voice, but low enough that I can't
identify it.

	`That was the word Seska used.'

-

	`I'll tell you flat, because he seems to be unable to do anything but
pussyfoot around it.

	`To wipe the mess the chemical left, you will relive the entire
incident, in vivid, possibly lurid, detail.  From the way Seska described it,
this will suck.'

	`Suck?' she asks, either curious or stalling.

	`Late twentieth century American Ideomatic for,' I pause, looking for
a definition, `"be extreemly unpleasant".  Commonly used emphasis is to
describe what it would suck, and I tend to use "large rocks through a small
hose".'

	She blinks, then giggles, a little.  `Consider me warned.'

	`We got this treatment from the public databases, and the only thing
about it in the black databases are ways of blocking it from being found.  I'd
say that the only thing we need now, is your consent to airing this out again,
and any friends who may help you over it.'

	`Samantha Wildman, and do it.'

	&call her&

	&Hai!&

	`She should be on her--'

	&Yatta, ima kuru.&

	`She is on her way now.'

	`Thank you.'

-

	`How did that make you feel?'

	`It pissed me off.'

	She isn't lying, but there's more, `Why?'

	`Because I did that.  I saw something I wanted, and I reached for it,
and I wasn't skillful enough to grasp it, so I tried to break it.'

	`What was that?'

	`Her.'

	I raise an eyebrow, practice meaning that I didn't wrinkle the rest of
my face to do it.

	`No, not her, her, but her attractiveness, her vibrancy, that sense of
perfection that began to appear as she adapted to the death of her lover.'

	`What do you plan to do about that?'

	`I'm going crazy.  Maybe if I go crazy enough she'll be willing to put
up with me.'

	`Maybe, maybe not.  I can't tell you.'

	`A girl can hope,' she pauses, then smiles, `This girl hopes a lot
more, recently.  I think I like these meds.'

-

	`Knock knock,' someone says from outside my little entryway.

	I put Gigan back in his cage, then, `Yeah?  Enter,' I tell the woman,
wondering who it is.

	`I wanted to thank you for,' she starts, then stops, staring at the
mess, her eyes bobbling around like the googly ones on a wind-up hopping-frog.

	I wait for her to continue, then settle to the top of a convienient
pile when she doesn't quickly.

	That prompts her to speak again, `How do you live in this much . . . '

	`Mess?  Practice.'

	`How do you keep it from bouncing around everywhere when the ship goes
into combat?'

	`See the pillars, there, and there?'  I point at the two behind me,
`There are four more in the bookcase, and a couple in the floor and ceiling.
They generate a Slaver stasis field, which protects the area from damage.'

	`What?  Wow.  How well does it work as armour?'

	`I've gotten permission to do only a few areas of the ship so far, but
there hasn't been a problem yet, and the field is perfectly impervious to any
damage we've tried so far.  It does muck with warp fields, though, which is
why the captain hasn't let me put them in everywhere yet.'

	`Unlike the scutters,' she pauses, looking around.

	`Find a seat.  Any pile that goes all the way to the ground and looks
sturdy is fine.'

	She looks at me a little funny, but takes a seat on a convienient VAX,
`I came in to thank you for dealing with that.'

	`The Teclicine, or whatever it was?  I'd not have known about that if
Seska hadn't told me.'

	`No, but I'm really glad about that, too.  I was meaning the rumors.'

	`Oh.  You're welcome.  All I did was ask everyone who mentioned them
to me to name names, or find them out, and they figured out themselves that
there aren't enough women of the proper orientation for all of the stories,
and that the only ones who could be reliably linked to you in a romantic sense
were Axana and Seska.'

	`Seska?' she squeaks, looking a little green around the gills, ducking
her head to hide a little behind her nice, straight, blonde hair.

	`In a pervy Cardassian way.  Her meds are working pretty well though,
and she's now quite insane, for a Cardassian.'

	`Is she sane for a human?'

	`Maybe, that's the goal, anyway.'

-*

3167/Chaos/50 -- Chaoflux:	Yay!  'Nother ep!
3168/Aftermath/48:		edited a little ^_^

This Conner, and her situation, were snitched, without any semblance of
permission, from Lisa Countryman's excellent fic _Seven Wonders_.  You should
probably pause at this point and go read them.
www.quiknet.com/~lcountry/

-*

	`Ick,' I glare at the messy equations.

	&Miki,& I whine, &Can't you do something to make this stuff?&

	&Chotto matte,& she tells me.

	I go back to puttering, leaving the nasty stuff for later, instead
blowing everything off to read at one of my novel's that I've not finished
yet, _Halfway Human_.

	It's interesting, but drags a bit right about in the middle, which is
why I've not finished it.  I get through another chapter or so before.

	&Dame,& Miki interupts me, &Takasugimasu.&

	"Fuck," I tell myself eloquently.

	The autozapper hits someone with a loud FuphZap noise, that took me a
little while to program.

	Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to do the next part, which was to tell
everyone about it, I remember as I look at the unconscious form of the
captain.

	I pat her face, waiting for the stun to wear off.

	`Wha?' she manages, showing remarkable resiliance.

	`The autodefenses zap people who don't ask permision before barging
into my quarters, captain.'

	`What?  On my ship?  Who do you,' she starts, getting louder as she
continues.

	`I don't have a proper door, and if you'd stopped to knock, you
wouldn't have gotten zapped.'

	`I didn't get zapped last time,' she says in a petulant grumble.

	`You walked in with B'El-chan.'

	`Or,' she pauses, `You were with me.'

	`And everyone else has asked permission since I got the zapper
installed.'

	`What is it?'

	`Stun setting out of a Kazon Disrupter.  I'm surprised at the speed
that you've recovered.'

	`The stunner in one of those is some sort of microwave unit, rather
than a disrupter.'

	`Oh, well I feel foolish.  I think I can rig something better--'

	`Before you do that, what did you do to the Kazon last month?  I've
been meaning to ask.'

	`Laser.  Cuts right through shields.'

	`Then why aren't they standard equipment?'

	`Alpha quadrant ships have, normally, a refractive coating under the
paint.  It scatters the beam, preventing damage for the short period that a
ship will stand still enough for the laser to hit the same spot.'

	`And the Kazon don't have this refractive coating.'

	`Right.  If I could get power for a real HEFEL,'

	`Hefal?'

	`High Energy Free Electron Laser.  Big, powerful, terribly inefficient
zapper.  It should be able to cut through the Enterprise's hull in a tenth of
a second, if I could get permission to build the thing, and a couple of EPS
conduits rerouted to it.'

	`A couple of EPS conduits?  About how much power are we talking about,
here?'

	`Just under an exawatt.'

	`An exawatt,' the captain looks a little green.  After a moment she
gets herself back together, `And the other issue, have you come up with a
method of replicating tellerium?'

	`Nope, too spendy.  With more time, and a lot more space, we might be
able to build a cyclotron and chem lab, and make the stuff that way, but we
don't,' something hits me upside the head, `Maybe we could rebuild the engines
to work around this dependancy on all sorts of nasty stuff that is impractical
to replicate.'

	`Look into it.  I'm going down with the away team to try and aquire
some tellerium, then.'

	`Can we muck with these people?  Please?  They deserve it, doing evil,
nasty things to each other.'

	`No, we may not.  We will all have locators implanted,'

	`Finally,' I mutter, not too quietly.

	She glares at me a little, `and we will be careful.  Is that good
enough, Ol' Paranoid?'

	`I'm not sure I like that name.  It'll have to do,' I look at her, `Do
you really need B'El-chan for this?'

	`Um,' she looks absotively sheepish, `No, but I'll feel a lot better
with her there to help.'

	`If she gets hurt I make no promises about being mister nice mad
scientist.'

	Janeway just looks at me funny for several seconds.

-

	`Well, there goes the plan,' I say, as both Tuvok and B'El-chan's
locators respond with a short databurst, the telemetry on them showing them as
unconscious, and Janeway highly stressed.  Neelix is in a different spot, and
only a little stressed, intent on something.

	The next burst has full audio for the last ten minutes, and shows
Janeway as unconscious as well.

	`Can I just blow them into little bits?  We practiced on that moon a
few days ago, we can target the rail cannon through this little bit of
atmosphere,' I ask Chakotay.

	`Not yet.'

	I settle back, waiting a few more seconds until the next
randomly-timed pulse interogates the locators again.

	`Get me out, I have the Tellerium, the others have been captured,'
Neelix hails brusquely.

	&yarimashita& Miki tells me.

	&who?&

	&Neelix&

	&only?&

	&Dake& she agrees, quickly flashing why across my vision.

	`Transport,' Chakotay starts.

	`We got Neelix.  The other three are under damper fields.  If we put
rounds here and here,' I paint the spots on a map on one of the little
screens, `We should be able to beam them out.'

	`Pulse-com the captain,'

	`She's unconscious,' the responce makes me pause, `but not in custody.
Tuvok and B'El-chan are about to wake up, but are in some sort of jail, in the
same cell.'

-

	`Grr,' I pace, out of sight of the camera, as Chakotay talks to one of
the black-clad Mokra heavies.  He's making smarmy comments about not knowing
where the away team is, and promising to look for them.

	They yatter for a while, then sign off.

	Chakotay is optimistic, Neelix worried.

	I look at Chakotay, `He's full of it.  B'El-chan and Tuvok are in a
Mokra prison, in the middle of the city.'

	`Yes, but if we can get him onto the ship, we may be able to trade him
for our people.'

	How devious.  `Sounds like it might work.  At least it'll get us close
enough to blast them and snatch our people before they can respond.'

	`I don't like throwing projectiles into an atmosphere.  Would your
laser work?'

	`No,' I drop into pedantic mode, `the laser ionizes the air, at which
point it turns opaque, and blocks the laser.  In order for it to work, it'd
need to be about six times as strong, and then it would be horribly loud.'
Chakotay looks blank, `The laser would have to blast the air out of the way,
and it would try to fill back in as the high-pressure superheated air causes
turbulence, and just be a real mess.  Phasers cut through atmosphere much more
cleanly.'

	`OK,' Chakotay agrees.

-

	Mokra-heavy is a real creep.  I barely avoid stunning him where he
sits.

	`We will continue to look for your people,' he promises.  I look at
Chakotay over the guy's shoulder, holding my right hand cupped to zap him.
Chakotay shakes his head slightly.

	I raise my eyebrow and cast my eyes at Augris.  Chakotay eventually
nods, so I stun his three friends with guns, then him.  He barely has enough
time to start for his own gun before he slumps over the table.

	`So, I can hit the damping field?'

	`Do it.  Once the shields are down, hit the guns, and stun the Mokra
military forces.'

	`Aye,' I thump my chest.

	&Miki?  Do it&

	&Ryoukai.&

	Our three people appear, suddenly, as the phasers continue firing.

	They stop before the captain regains her composure.

	`What was that?' she asks.

	I look up and would whistle, except that I can't.

	The captain turns to glare at Chakotay, `Get these off my ship,' she
waves at the Mokra on the table and floor.

-

	`So, yet another planet we've destabilized,' the captain glares at the
world on the monitor.

	`It was a good cause,' I smile, `And it'll help keep others from
messing with us, perhaps.  Unless,' and I let my teeth show, `it scares them
enough to make them go after us as a horrible threat.'

	`Always cheerful, aren't you,' Paris comments from the helm.

	`Always,' I reply, and Kes pokes me with a finger.

-

	I memorize my page number, and set _Halfway Human_ aside.  The
wing-panel is almost finished, and will shortly be joined to the rest of the
wing assembly.  I look at the nice, large doors to the hall, and the tiny
airlock, and wonder about the boneheads who designed this ship.

	I should be able to build the Cosmo Zero in small enough sections, and
use the turbolifts to get it to the shuttle bay, but it would be so much
easier to just build it in one piece, then take it out a lock.  Oh well,
another time, perhaps.

	I transfer the panel, then lever one of the engine sections onto a
smallish wheeled cart, and haul it towards the door.

-*

Yay!  This was quick!  3167/Chaos/60

-*

	`Look!  The lights are bloody damned _Cheap_ compared to the drugs
we're using on a full tenth of the crew!  We stop, hang out in a local system
for two weeks while we replace all of them damned transtator LEDs with nice,
simple, full-spectrum florescents, and another generator every other deck.
Scanning people, we've got another two dozen subclinical seasonal affective
disorder cases, and where is that blasted xenopsych?'

	`OK, OK, we'll stop and fix the lights.  And when have we run across a
trustworthy xenopsych?'

	`We haven't looked,' I grumble, conceeding the point.

	`We haven't found anyplace worth looking.'

	`Which sucks rocks.  Big ones, through a little itty-bitty garden
hose,' I let my voice get all whiny, and manage to avoid laughing.

	Janeway looks at me funny.

	At this point I give up, and shake my head, laughing.  I manage to
stop myself again quickly, since my whining isn't as amusing as I find it,
really.

-

	I let myself glory in the inhuman warmth of B'El-chan pressing down on
me, keeping myself fairly still to avoid waking her.

	I can only manage that for a few minutes before my hands start to
wander, and she wakes up.

	`Morning,' I tell her, as she blinks sleep out of her very pretty
brown-irissed eyes.

	`Morning,' she responds, then nibbles lightly at my nose.

-

	`You,' Shimu prods me with a toe, `Get up, stop playing with your
friend for a little while, it is time for practice.'

	`Yes, Shimu,' I tell her, then extract myself, taking a couple pauses
to stroke B'El-chan as I get some clothes on.  B'El-chan shifts to watch me,
and I'm glad I took the time to sort all the last of my papers earlier this
week, since it means I'm not slipping on them anymore.

-

	`Wow,' I mutter, looking at the thing, `It's either an android, a
cyborg, a dead guy in a space suit, or a Beserker.'

	`Beserker?'  B'El-chan asks.

	`Member of an ancient,' I scowl, `Beserkers were originally weapons
designed by some group, long long ago, to deal with their enemies.  They
developed some sort of programming fault, and now believe they exist to
destroy all life, everywhere.'

	`How fun.'

	`Yep.  Good stories, most of them, I think I've a couple on the
shelf.  Fred Saberhagen.'

-

	`Well, it's not a cyborg, or a dead guy in a suit.  That leaves,' the
captain pauses dramaticly, `An android or a Beserker.'

	She pauses again, `Bet you a nickle that it isn't a Beserker.'

	`I got one that says it is,' and I hold out my pinky-finger, and she
loops hers through it, and we shake.

-

	`So, you still ain't figured out what's wrong?'

	`nope,' she manages, and I look at the clook, surprised to find we've
been working for almost twenty-seven hours.

	`Well, you haven't filled your blood and tissues with nanomachines to
fight off fatigue, and even I get stupid when I don't sleep,'

	B'El-chan laughs, `Like the time you cut your finger off with a phaser
colimeter?'

	`Exactly.  It's been twenty-seven hours, so let's get to bed for a
little while before we kill this poor thing,' I unstrap the power cord from my
wrist, bundling it up and hanging it on a hook.

	`Twenty-seven?  OK, lead on,' and she practically drapes herself over
my shoulders.

	I have to pretty much pick her up before I can get us out the door.

-

	`Identify yourself,' the creature tells me, holding my wrist.

	`Ensign Mizuno Suika, patron saint of the Kazon Ogla,' I bow,
slightly.

	`Automated Personnel Unit 3947,' it pauses, `Thank you for
reactivating me.'

	`B'El-chan did most of the work.  I just sorta hung out and
cheer-led.'

	`Thank you as well, then, Bellchan,' the creature says.

-

	`So, what do you know about these Pralor?' I ask Neelix, who's fixing
breakfast today.

	`They're a standoffish bunch, and are involved in a war with another
group of,' he pauses for a moment, `critters, called the Kravek or something
like that.  Apparently they were built for a war, but then their builders
worked out a truce, and attempted to scrap them.'

	`This didn't work out, did it.'

	`Nope, the way I heard it, both sides died, leaving only the Pralor
and Kravek fighting each other until they are no more.'

	`That sucks.  Janeway owes me a nickle.'

	`Oh?'

	`Yeah, she made a bet with me that it wasn't a murderous war machine.'

-

	`Come on, I say it's close enough for government work, pay up.'

	`They aren't out to destroy all life, so they aren't Beserkers, so pay
up.'

	`They killed their makers to continue their war, and show no sign of
stopping any time soon.  Pay up.'

	`Lt. Torres, come up here a moment.'

	`Yes, Captain.'

-

	`Suika, pay up.'

	Janeway smirks at me.

	`Captain, you pay up, too.'

	Her face falls.

-

	`No, the Prime Directive of StarFleet forbids it,'

	`I thought the Prime Directive only applied to non-warp cultures.'

	`Generally, but this is one of the exceptions to that exception.'

	`Oh.'

	3947 asks in its normal, happy tone, `So, this means that you will not
help us?'

	`Apparently,' I tell it, `We can let you have the notes made when we
repaired you, and you may be able to use those to create new power modules.  I
think it would be better if you got out of this war with the Kravek, though,
because you will need all of the people you have to work on this.'

	`But we exist to fight the Kravek.'

	`And they exist to fight you.  If you could hide, and occasionally
have one of your people pretend to be destroyed, tapering off so that after a
couple years they think that all of you are no longer in existance, what will
happen to them?'

	`They will self-terminate.'

	`And you will have won.'

	`But who would we fight, once we have won?'

-

	`We returned 3947 to its ship, but they want to hang around us for a
little while so that they can try and talk information out of us.'

	`I don't much like it, but they may stick around.'

-

	`Kravek ship,' Janeway starts.

	`Would you kindly back off?' I continue, interupting her, `We have
provided little help to the Pralor, and could provide equally little to you,
in order to maintain the current balance, but only if we all are still around
in a few minutes.'

	`Acknowledged,' the Kravek says, and the ship backs off, both sides
ceasing to fire.

-

	`No, I'm not sure this is a good idea.  I do want to know how these
things were built, however.'

	`Perv,' B'El-chan says, rubbing the back of my neck.

	I make a happy noise, and lean back into her caress.

-

	`OK, I know how you are made, and how to make new power units.
Figuring out what I did is left as an exercise for the students, meaning you
lot.'

	`Acceptable,' the Pralor representative says.

	`Perfectly,' the Kravek representative agrees.

	`Have fun,' I smile at them, and they look at me funny.

-

	`So, what's the story on this thing?' the captain asks.

	I slide out from where I'm working on the CZ's landing gear, and smile
at her, `Just as soon as I get the warp coil wound she'll be ready for her
test flights.'

	`Wound?'

	`Yep.  Ancient Vulcan design, not as efficient, but better for a
fighter.'

	`How do you mean?'

	`At full output, she burns seventy five percent of the fuel V'ger burns at
cruise.'

	`Seventy five percent?  That's outragious!'

	`That's full output -- maximum throttle, all weapons firing, full
shields.  Normal operations -- cruise throttle, weapons on standby, shields on
low, she'll burn half of that.'

	`Thirty seven percent?  That's still rediculous.'

	`Thirty six, actually, but she cruises at a little over V'ger's
maximum.'

	`And the other speeds are faster?'

	`Yep.  V'ger tops out at about four, four and half light years a day.
The Cosmo Zero here will cruise at six light years a day, super cruise at
nine, and maximum throttle will be about twelve, maybe thirteen.'

	`Wow.  Earth to Alpha Centauri in eight hours.'

	`Yep.'

	`So, what have you figured out about Voyager's engine situation?'

	`Well, with a bit of hotrodding and some severe modifications to the
plasma coolant situation, we should be able to reduce our external
dependancies to just dilithium,'

	`That's good,'

	`And increase our maximum speed by a third, to six light years a day,
and cruising speed by more, to about four and a half a day.'

	`What's the catch?'

	`Fuel efficency drops by five percent, water has a much higher
coefficient of heat than the evil stuff being used now, so when we have a
coolant leak it will be superheated steam, and we'll have a shorter
operational time when there is a coolant leak.'

	`Why can't we just keep using the current coolant?'

	`Because it is the main reason we need so many strange chemicals, and
it destroys most organic materials.  I'd much prefer to have my hand cooked,
rather than melted off.'

	`Eww,' the captain makes a face.

	`It is much easier to fix someone who's been cooked than someone who's
been melted, too.'

	`How long would it take?'

	`We'd need to power down the warp engines for about a week, and it'll
take another week to find all the bugs, and adapt the controls for the rebuilt
engine.'

	`OK, we'll start looking for someplace to set down.'

	`That'll make some of the modifications much easier.'

	`I thought as much.'

-

	`Well,' I tell B'El-chan, wrapping my arms around her from behind and
resting my head against her shoulder, `She won't let us paint flames on
V'ger.'

	`That's sad,' she tells me, rubbing my hands consolingly as she
adjusts the cold antimatter flow one-handed.

	`Mmmhhmm,' I tell her, wiggling a little closer.

	`But she didn't object to the way you styled the plasma intercoolers?'

	`You signed off on them, saying that their surface area needed to be
increased to go with the new coolant system, and to lower the water
temperatures to safer levels.'

	`Yes, but I didn't say they had too look all flamey and spikey.'

	`Well, maybe she just decided to let me get away with it.

	`Perhaps,' she drags one hand up to her lips and kisses it.

-*

3167/Discord/2		Yay!

And now for a rant!

In the first ep, they tell us that 75,000 light years is 75 years at `Maximum
warp'
This, with a little simple math, is 2.74 light years per day.
Then, on several occasions, they forget this, and have V'ger cover two light
years in eight hours or so, or at 6LY/day.
So, I'm just saying that, like any modern military vessel, she has a `maximum
safe(or sustainable) operating speed' which can be exceeded, at a cost of
increased maintenance/repair.

The CZ can cruise indefinately, super cruise for days, and sustain maximum
throttle for several hours.  After every nine hours of maximum throttle,
fifteen days of supercruise, or more if it was a single continuous run at
speed, the CZ needs a level ten diagnostic, and repairs as indicated.  After
fifty-four hours at maximum, or eighty days at supercruise, the warp coil is
rewound, whether it needs it or not.

Fighters are high-maintenance beasts, even in Trek ^_^

-*

	`So,' Tom wanders in, `When can I fly it?'

	I scowl at him, and smack his wrist when he reaches out to touch her,
`For that, never.'

	`What?' he sounds hurt, `Like, next month?'

	`Like, never.  If you ask really nicely, and get the Captain to agree,
I may make more fighters, however.'

	`Why not?'

	`You didn't engage in properly respectful behavior.  And I'm being
childish,' I rub the CZ's wingtip.

	`Oh.  OK.'

-

	I hop around my little nest, avoiding the piles of stuff, and
indulging in what I know is a bout of sillyness.  I have, in my own hot little
hands, a can of apricot halves.

	I bounce the can between my fingers for a few more moments, then set
it down, and begin my search.  For my can opener.  For any of my can openers.

	After twenty minutes I give up for a little while, and sit, staring
forlornly at my can of lovely, sweet, strange, slightly icky, preserved fruit.
I've looked in my sewing machine drawers, in my main set of boxes, in the four
large tool chests I've appropriated, and under the tables.  I bite my lip, and
wonder where I left that oh so vital instrument.

	I know, I'm being silly, I tell myself, but still, I don't want to
just rip the can to bits, or attack it with a knife.

	When did my little ecko can opener arrive, anyway?  I scratch an
eyebrow.  It was a while ago, before the motorcycles showed up.  Maybe four
months.  Hmm.  Maybe I left it there.  I get up, walk purposefully over to one
of the coffee-cans full of junk I've got, and start digging through them.

	The can opener is in the fifth can I check, which I carefully close,
put back on the top of the stack, and then proceed to bounce around my nest a
little more, clutching my prize.

	`Do I even want to ask?' B'El-chan greets me.

	`I found a can of apricots.  And my can opener.'

	`Were you going to share?'

	`Well, you may not have my can opener.  I will share the apricots.'

	`That's fine,' she smiles, and gathers me into her arms.

	`Lovely,' I tell her, `but not so lovely as you.'

	A wonderful smile erupts on her face, matching the one on my face.
After a few minutes my can opener falls on the floor, my fingers needed for
other things.

-

	I wiggle out of the Jeffries tube, onto the bridge.  An instant later,
the ship rocks, &What is going on?& I ask Miki.

	&Kazon,& she says succinctly, flashing more detail across my vision.

	`So, new sect, new mess, hmm?' I stagger, as the ship rocks again.

	`Yes,' the captain tells me.

	`We may blow them to itty bits, right?'

	`Right.'

	&Miki, target the Kazon, shoot to disable.&

	&Ryoukai.&

	`If you'd like, I could take the CZ out after them.'

	The captain thinks for an instant, `Get down there, and prep for
launch.'

	On the screen, one of the Kazon explodes, and first one, then the
other, stop firing, dead in space.

	`Belay that,' she tells me, `Your computer targetting systems work
very well.'

	`Thank you,' I tell her, `Maybe the Kazon will talk, now.'

	`Maybe,' she smiles, just a little, at me.  She turns towards Ensign
Kim, `Status?'

	`Shields at 85 percent, other than the ventrals, which are at 12
percent.  Minor damage to engineering, a hull breach on deck eight, and three
casualties.  One is in pretty bad shape, however.'

	The captain is fairly upbeat right up until that last sentance.

-

	`How's he doing?' I ask, padding up behind the doctor.

	`Not good,' the doctor scowls.  I start preparations, making sure the
fields are ready, and the nanoconstructors.  According to the simulations,
it'll work if we need it to.

	The doctor cusses behind me.  Both he and Paris are working franticly,
but after a few more minutes give up.

	`Take him,' he tells me, and I trigger the sequence, freezing the dead
man solid in a split-second, then the nanoconstructors move in, carefully
repairing cell walls destroyed in the freezing process, ones burnt by the
plasma surge, and replacing the ones that just aren't there anymore.  The
delicate part is repairing his brain cells, some of which had been without
oxygen long enough to die before being frozen.

	I monitor the process for a few hours.

	`Hey, how's Kurt doing?' B'El-chan asks me, cupping the back of my
neck in her hand.

	`He's dead, Jim.'

	`But he'll get better, right?'  There's a little quaiver to her voice.

	`That's the hope.  It works in simulation, but . . . ' I trail off.

	`"In theory there is no difference between theory and practice, but in
practice there is."'

	`Where is that quote from?'

	`I'm not sure.  Kurt's going to be dead a while longer, right?'

	`At least another eight hours before the nanoconstructors will be
done.'

	`Come, eat.  You make fewer mistakes on a full belly.'

	`Yes dear,' I tell her in my best British accent.  Which isn't very
British, but oh well.

-

	`Well, Mister Bendera, you seem to be back to normal.  Let me know if
you experience any memory loss, dizzyness, or other indicators of neurological
or other damage.  Best case, everything is as it should be, worst case, the
only way you are going to approach normal is through long and arduous
therapy.'

	`Thanks,' he shakes his head, `I hadn't realized the experimental
therapy release included being brought back from throuroughly dead.'

	`With the nanoconstructors in your system now, provided you don't
make me take them out, you will be much less likely to die of similar injuries
in the future.'

	`You mean I won't get hurt if I walk into a plasma jet?'

	`No, but the damage will be contained faster, and, if it is too severe
for you to keep functioning while the repairs are going on, they'll knock you
out, and keep you alive until they run out of energy or enough damage has been
repaired to start you up again.'

	`Wow.  How long was I dead?'

	`A little over twelve hours.'

-

	`Hey,' Seska greets me difidently, leaning against the wall in my
doorway.

	I motion for her to preceed me into my nest, `Hey.'  I perch on the
stack of VAXen, and she takes the less-sacred-than-it-used-to-be bean-bag
chair.

	`She's remarkably willing to put up with me,' she doesn't bother to
say who "she" is, `but now I don't really trust myself to read her.  Why the
heck did I fall for the cutest woman on the ship,' she twitches her lips,
almost smiling, `Well, who isn't T'clat's avatar, anyway.'

	`Was that a compliment?  Or are you just trying to butter me up?'

	`I think it was a compliment,' she smiles fully, not showing her
teeth.

	`Well, I'd say it was because she is a rather wonderful person, in a
human sorta way.  You could just try telling her flat out that you'd like to
initiate a long-term alliance.'

	`That would be the Cardie way of putting it.  The problem is that
there is this rather nasty stalkerish emotional depth to what I'm experiencing
about her.'

	`Stalkerish?'

	`Yeah, I've got delusions about how she feels, which is why I don't
trust anything I read from her.'

	`Ew.  You could also try talking to her.  You don't have to bring up
the fact that you just think she's the cat's pajamas,'

	`Cat's pajamas?' she cuts me off.

	`The bee's knees,' she looks at me funny, `Old slang for just
wonderful,' she nods, `but you should let her know that you regret fucking up
her life like you did, and that you enjoy the time you spend with her.'

	`Should I tell her that even right after I did it, I regretted having
done it?'

	`Why did you regret it?'

	`Because once I'd calmed down a little I realized I had totally
screwed any reasonable chance I had with her.  A Cardassian raised as a
Cardassian would put up with that sort of shit, but even I wouldn't.'

	`Why would a Cardassian put up with it?'

	`Because a Cardie would know that they didn't mean shit to me until
and unless there was the prospect of long-term reward to our continued
relationship.  I may not make a good Bajoran, but I make a pretty lousy Cardie
too.'

	`You're doing much better at being someone I'd trust.  Keep working at
it, and maybe you'll become the person you seem to want to be right now.'

	`Maybe.  Should I tell her?'

	`About your initial regrets?' She knods, `If she asks, you probably
should, but I wouldn't unless she does.  Humans don't always like the truth,
particularly when it casts one in a rather mercenary light.'

	`Mercenary?  How do you mean?'

	`As a person who does stuff for what it can do for them.'

	`But isn't that why everyone does everything?  I'm nice to you because
it makes me feel good, and you are much more useful when I'm nice.'

	`Yes, but humans, and probably Bajorans, like to pretend that they
only act because of the "it makes me feel good" reason, and not the "more
useful" one.'

	`But humans work on both?'

	`Yep.  And probably Bajorans as well.'

	`Hmm.  I was looking into treatments for human sociopaths, and they
mentioned using nanotech to repair or modify human brains so that they
function "normally."'

	I can hear the quotes in her voice, `Yes?'

	`And I was wondering if perhaps something similar could be done for
me?  The meds help remarkably with recognizing other people's emotional
states, and I conciously can place importance on it, but I don't think I can
spontaniously grow the bits that help predict the future based on others
emotional states.  I mean, if I sit and think about it, I can sorta logic or
emote my way around it, but it takes so long, and I get it wrong a lot.'

	`So, you were thinking of some sort of hardware accelerator?'

	`I was hoping mushware, but I don't know if there is space in my skull
for that.'

	`This'll be really dangerous, either way.  I think I'd prefer not to.'

	`I'd prefer not to need it too, but I don't know if I can manage on
Voyager without doing something to fix it.'

	`Even without any explicit mushware modification, just working at it
will change the way your brain is wired, and speed up frequent tasks, like
trying to judge the consequences of your actions.'

	`Think about the explicit modification thing, anyway, please.  The
black has data about certain nerve clusters in the brain which result in
"aberent behaviour" much like what I'm thinking of.'

	`That'll make it much easier, but still, I wouldn't want to risk you.'

	`It is nice to have people who worship you, isn't it?'

	`Bemusing, more.  But you're kinda a friend, and I want to maintain
that relationship.'

	`Ah.  Thank you,' she stands, and I get to my feet and walk her to the
door of my quarters, where she surprises me.

	I blink, pulling back from where she kissed me.

	`She tastes better,' and she gives my shoulder a squeeze before she
leaves.

	B'El-chan steps out of the shadows, `What was that?'

	`I don't know.  She called me cute.'

	`Seska,' I nod, `Called you cute,' I nod again, `That's pretty
strange,' I nod again.

	She leads me back inside, settles onto the stack of still-not-running
DECstation 5000/200s, and cuddles me into her lap, `How was it?'

	`I'm not sure.  It was over before I really noticed, so it wasn't
horrible, but I don't think it was really pleasant either.'

	`Maybe we should generate some data to compare it to.'

	`Some more data, you mean?' I smirk at her, twisting in her lap to
watch her.

	She blushes, `More data,' she agrees, and leans towards me.

-*

3167/Confusion/50
	
   This doesn't bear too much resemblance to "Alliances", but ah well . . .

-*

	`Tell me why we're doing this again?' I glare at the holodeck monitor,
where B'El-chan, Kim, and I have just watched Paris blow himself to kingdom
come, again.

	`Because, if we can get to warp 10, we can be anywhere, no, everywhere
at once.'

	`Won't that cause fun stuff like the entire universe exploding as we
run into everything at once?'

	`Um.' Kim seems stumped.

	`That's what the deflector screens are for, keeping us from hitting
things,' B'El-chan tells me pedanticly.

	`Can they react that fast?'

	B'El-chan thinks for a moment, `. . . Maybe.'
	
	`OK, so we may destroy the universe.  We'll probably destroy another
shuttle.  Any other fun possibilities?'

	`If we put a powerful enough set of sensors on a probe, and enough
storage, we could just launch a single probe and explore the entire universe
at once,' Kim offers.

	`That might work,' I admit, ashamed I hadn't thought of it.
	
-

	`OK, We're ready to destroy another shuttle,' I smile, `How do we know
if it works?'

	`I take it out, and come back.  Simple.'

	I look at Paris like he's crazy, `And if you get yourself killed?
Restore you from backup?'

	Paris frowns, `Yeah, I think that'd be best.'

	`OK,' I tell him, `We'll need to get a good backup before you leave,
then, and you'd better make sure that Kes and Neelix are OK with this as
well.'

	`I will.'

-

	`What is this about "restoring" Tom "from backup?"' Kes asks me.

	`I copy down the patterns that make him up, digitize them, and keep
them.  At a later time I can nanoconstruct a perfect duplicate of him, at the
time of the backup, from the stored patterns.'

	Kes frowns, `I don't think I like that.  What if we decide he's gone
and died, restore him, and then he comes back?'

	`You'll have two of him.'

	`Ow,' she says, `I think I need to think about this.'

-

	Neelix is nearly as verbose, `So you keep a copy of him, and make a
new one whenever we lose one?'

	`Yep.  Everyone who doesn't say "My religion forbids it" is going to
be backed up,' I tell him, gently.

	`Sounds good, in a way, and bad in a way, too.  What if it means that
we stop caring if we lose someone, since we can just restore them?'

	`I don't think it will, but it might.  I just know that we can't lose
too many people, or V'ger won't be,' I pause, regather my thoughts, `We won't
be able to keep V'ger running, and this will keep us from permanently losing
people.'

	`That's a good thing, I admit, but . . . ' he trails off.

	`Yes, but.  Exactly.'

-

	I had eight opt-outs.  Everyone else shows up, gets their shots of
nanoconstructors, and gets put on the backup schedule.

	Most also asked that I try and revive their original bodies instead of
complete restoration, if it was possible.  I had Miki mark that down with
their backups.

-

	`OK, I've talked them around, when can we launch?' Paris bounces as he
speaks, somehow not stepping on any of the little things scattered over my
floor today.  I'd decided to organize some of the boxes, and had started by
laying everything out.  I just hope I'll get them re-boxed in some useful
order before I get burned out on the project and just dump it all back in
different boxes.

	`The shuttle mods are ready.  Tomorrow, probably,' I tell him.

	`Cool,' he sits down, fidgeting, `Can I help?'

	I look at the assortment of metal bits, rocks, toys, small machine
parts, pens, shells, and other things I've spread over the floor, `Sort things
by similarity,' I tell him, and wonder how he'll decide to do that.

-

	Both of us are awake when Shimu appears, walking over to us, `Up,
student,' she tells me.

	B'El-chan smiles as I get to my feet with a little whine, `Have fun,'
she tells me.

	I scowl at her for effect, and she laughs.

	We're working on chi manipulation, the early stuff, rather than the
flashy auras and energy blasts that come later, after a lot more training.

-

	`OK, we're ready to try the engines.  Run 'em up,' I tell Paris,
wondering how I got chosen to do flight control. 

	Just lucky, I guess.  I smile at the quote, thinking about when I
heard it the first time.

	After that I turn back to the telemetry feed.  The shuttle is indeed
reading as being at warp 10, with no acceleration, which is why he's still
here.

	`Oh fuck,' Tom says, and the shuttle vanishes.  The telemetry says
that the AMAS kicked in.

	`Didn't we disable the automatic meteor avoidance system?' I ask.

	`Um,' Kim says, softly.

	I dig through the whisker inferometry, but his trace vanishes after a
few dozen light years.

	`He's gone,' I tell them, and shift in my seat, hoping he will make it
back.

	Several uncomfortable minutes later _Cochrane_ pops back into normal
space off the port bow, a few hundred kilometers away.

	`Life signs weak, beaming him back,' &Miki&

	&Ryoukai& data flashes before my eyes.

	`He's in sickbay,' Miki gives me a quick rundown of what the Doc's
reading, `Just asleep.'

	`Thank Eris,' B'El-chan says.

	I give her a worried stare.

	`I know you don't think that's a good idea, but I believe in thanking
my gods for whatever favors they may grant.'

	`Yeah, but that just means this one is likely to go weird.'

	`It's already gone weird.'

	Can't really argue with that.

-

	`So, I hit the thrusters opposite for the same period, popped into
normal space, looked around, realized I was a ways from where I should be, and
gently bounced my way back here.  It was a lot more draining than I thought it
would be.'

	`Yes,' Doc says, `His reserves are quite tapped, like he was working
very hard, for a longer period than he was gone.'

	Janeway distracts Paris with some talk about Wright, Armstrong,
Cochrane and Paris, which I think is just too grandious for words.

-

	Well, this is just peachy-keen.  Paris went and kicked it.  Problem
is, he's still changing, even as a corpse.  Kess and Neelix clutch each other,
watching, waiting.  I stand, watching Paris's scans, wondering what will
finally happen, and more importantly, what is causing it, and B'El-chan keeps
me wrapped in her arms, her head on my shoulder, warm against my back as she
drowses slightly.

	I fidget with my power cord, unwilling to sleep until I find out what
will happen to Paris.

	Suddenly, with a gasp and a start, Paris wakes up, two hearts and all.

-

	`Hey, that's cool!  One for each!' Paris says, when I tell him.  He's
in manic mode, right now, rather than the earlier paranoid mode.

	Neelix and Kes both hug him.

-

	Paris is back in paranoid mode, and I'm way too close to invoking an
override on the Doc.

	`Look, we can't do this to him.  It's kinda cool, he should be able to
adapt once the changes slow down, and if we stop being so creepy maybe he'll
go back to being manic.'

	`It's a safe proceedure,' the Doc just about whines.

	`No, it isn't.  Freezing his ass and reconstructing him is safe.  This
is "kill him slow" rather than "kill him fast."'

	`I agree with Mizuno,' Janeway says, `We wait.'

-

	Whell, fuck.

	Paris has gone off the deeper end, kidnapped Janeway of all people,
and stolen the _Cochrane_.  At least I was outside, installing with the new
fighter-cradles under the hull, in Rivant armor with the warp pack.

	I slip into _Cochrane_'s warp bubble, grab a convienient handle, and
bring down the warp engines just before he runs the thing to warp 10.

	A few minutes later we pop back into normal space, and he starts to
pilot the shuttle planetside.  I decide that I don't want to be in some jungle
just yet, and stay in orbit.

	After a few minutes I start to get woozy, and everything goes black.

-

	Hey, wake up.  I've got the changes stopped, but we're a little, well,
a lot, different than when we started.

	We?

	Yeah, I stopped most of it when we merged, but that was relatively
late.  We're still cute, but kinda elflike.

	Elflike? I ask, then I know what she means.  Long pointy ears, cute
little fangs, still white as death, long dark green hair instead of the brown
I'd gotten used to, long fingers, semi-prehensile toes with cute little claws.
Taller and thinner than I used to be, features shifted a little.

	Yeah, and then there's the space-adaptation shit.

	What?  Armored skin, tougher than the Rivant suit I'm still wearing,
even though it is a little short, and has lost the gloves, helmet, and boots.
No breathing.  The warp pack is gone, replaced by a pair of flat shapes under
the skin of my back.

	I hear something, turn my head, my ears flaring out a bit.  It's
V'ger, looking for us.  I call back, `Over here.'

	Someone pushes their way to the com, `Suika?'

	`B'El-chan!  You aren't going to believe your eyes,' I tell her.

	`What happened?'

	`I changed, too.  Not as bad a Paris,' I look towards the surface,
finding the shuttle by listening for it, then using its sensors to find the
other two.  They've turned into happy jungle salamanders, it would seem, `His
transponder is in a giant salamander.  Janeway's is in another.'

	`He got eaten?' Chakotay asks.

	`No, turned into a giant salamander, I think,' I tell him.  `I'm a
space elf.'

	`Space elf?'

	`Probably wouldn't have stopped here, but Miki took over after the
change merged us.'

	`Miki?'

	`My onboard computer, remember?  We're not sure about the block
diagram, but I've got two personas living in my head, and both the hardware
and mushware have been merged.'

	`Lovely,' B'El-chan says, dry sarcasm over worry.

	`Pretty nice so far,' I reply.

	`We should be there in a couple days,' Chakotay says.

	`Cool, I'll try to meet you in route.'

	`See you when you get here,' she says, softly.

	`Love you too,' I tell her.

-

	The new warp engines are much more responsive, and much more powerful,
than the Rivant's warp pack, but not as powerful as the CZs.  Maybe a little
better than V'ger's.  Adjusted for load, of course.  Of course.

-

	About a day later I meet up with V'ger, easily matching her warp field
and slipping inside.  B'El-chan is in my room, so I let myself in the airlock,
a little surprised to find that I start breathing when it gets up to pressure.

	I walk around the bookshelf, in the door, and watch her a moment, her
sleep rough, soft sounds of distress escaping occasionally.  I brush her hair
back from her face, `Wake up, I'm home.'

	`Suika?' she says, wrapping her hand about mine before she opens her
eyes.

	`That's me.  New and Improved, but still me,' I tell her.

	She blinks, then looks me up and down again, `I like it.  Different,
but still you, somehow.  Let's see the rest,' and she reaches for the
Rivant's fastenings.

-

	Shimu prods me awake, `You'll need to adjust to your new height,
weight, and CG.  Up!'

	B'El-chan laughs, softly, `You heard the woman, get to work.'

	Shimu turns on her, `You should study, too.  It'll be yet another
thing you can share, and she could do with a real live sparring partner.  A
hologram can only do so much, and isn't a complete substitute for live
opponents.'

	B'El-chan makes a face, `I had some unarmed combat training in the
Acadamy.  It sucked.'

	`This is different.  That was about combat, this is the _Art_,' Shimu
says, stressing the final word.

	`OK, I'll try it,' she grouses, then gets up, still naked, and pulls
some clothes on.

	`Good,' Shimu says.

-

	`We're there,' Chakotay says, still looking at me oddly.

	I blink my still pupilless green eyes at him, `Evolution is driven by
external factors.  They went into a jungle, and turned into jungle people.  I
stayed in orbit, without a ship, and I turned into a space-person.  Paris was
a ship-person before he went into warp again.  I think it is some sort of
external effect, a booby-trap to keep people out of the highest levels of
warp.'

	`That would make sense!' B'El-chan practically bubbles, suddenly
excited, `Perhaps a Slaver device?  They were quite paranoid enough to do it.'

	I nod, `Indeed,' then look at Chakotay, `Shall I beam them up, and
remote the shuttle back up here?'

	`Do it.'

	They appear in Sickbay, safe, sound, happy salamanders, but not for
too long.

	I have the autopilot take over once the shuttle is off the ground.

-
	I've got the shuttle.  Landing it now.

	Good.  I answer distractedly, watching the two Salamander-cicles turn
into a Janeway-cicle and a Paris-cicle, micro-managing the process.

-*

3168/Confussion/70
Finally finished _Threshold_ and pulled the big change I'd been planning for a
long time.
Only took me a year, too ^^;

3168/Bureaucracy/38  A whole lot of little edits, scattered about.

-*

	`Suck,' B'El-chan says, getting up to fix the warp drive, again.

	`Suck,' I agree, wrapping a hand about her neck and pulling her down
for a kiss before I let her leave.

	I adjust myself on the former DEC storage array, which we'd placed on
its side and cushioned to make a half-bad couch.  Gaigan takes it as a sign to
try and escape, so I re-adjust him in my shirt.

-

	`What do we have here,' I ask, looking at the burned humanoid corpse
in front of me.

	`It was Crewman Darwin,' the Doc tells me.

	`And will be again.  I was wondering about the crushed skull.'

	`Blunt instrument trauma.  Someone killed him, then threw him in the
EPS conduit.'

	`How lovely of them,' I say, and start trying to see if I can
distinguish foreign DNA on the body.

	A few thousand types of bacteria are found, then discarded.
Discouraged, I ask Miki.  Anything?

	Not yet.  Still looking, though.

	Good, then I quit.  She keeps my hand waving over the corpse's head.

-

	Tuvok comes in, with a hypothesis about Darwin falling into the
conduit and getting cooked to death.

	`No such luck,' I tell him, `As the Doctor noticed, someone beat his
head in before he ended up in the conduit.  If the warp drive hadn't failed
right before that, he'd be hot vapor by now.'

	`Oh.  I will find out who did it.'

	Got it.  Lon Suder, who, by his backup, is probably a psychopath.

	What?

	His brain's really funky, even for a Betazoid.  See these structures
here?  He probably has command hallucinations.

	Can we fix him?

	Yes, but will he be himself afterwards?

	Can we leave him like this?

	Not and keep him on the ship, safely.

	Then we'll ask.

	`Lon Suder,' I say, as Tuvok approaches the door, `DNA evidence in the
head wound.  Looking at his backup scan, we can say that he's probably a
psychopath, who suffers from command hallucinations.'

	Miki pulls the data up on a convienient screen.

	Tuvok considers the data, then stalks from the room.

	We should check over the rest of our backups, and see if we've other
problems.

	Gotcha.

-

	`Have we got all the evedence we can?' I ask the Doc, waving at
Darwin's refridgerated corpse.

	`Yes, we do.  You can revive him, now.'

	`You should do it.  We'll monitor,' I tell him.

	`Right,' he glances at the corpse, then starts clattering over the
keys of the medical board.

	`Why do you do that?'

	`Do what?'

	`Use the keyboard when you don't have to?  You don't need to touch the
keys anymore than we do.'

	`Habit, I think,' he pulls his fingers back, but keeps working, `Why
are you using we to refer to yourself?'

	`I is either me or Miki, we is both of us.'

	`Oh.  How do we tell which of you is speaking?'

	`We're close enough that it doesn't really matter for most things.'

	`What about B'Elanna?'

	`She can just tell.  I'm not sure how.  Have you decided on a name
yet?'

	`I can't think of one that I want to keep.'

	`Then we'll set up a randomizer, and give you a new name every week
until one sticks.  How's that sound?'

	Done.

	`I don't know.  What if I really don't like a name?'

	`Then you can tell us, and we'll kick the randomizer for a new name.'

	`Alright, when can you do this?'

	`Already done, Doctor Jed Cooper.'

	`That's a cultural reference, isn't it?'

	`Yep.  Look it up.'

	Darwin's blacked flesh has turned pink, and skin is forming.  His head
wound has healed over, and the dent is shrinking.

-

	`So, what do we do with you?' I ask Suder.

	`There really isn't anything to be done.  When I was with the Maquis,
I got to kill things frequently enough that the urge never got to the point
that I lost it.  Before that,' he pauses, then continues, `I'm surprised they
never caught me.'

	`So you've killed people before?'

	`In the Maquis.  I limited myself to property, and pets, before that.
The occasional wild animal.  Those would have gotten me commited to an
institution.'

	`I seem to have been volunteered for the post of ship shrink, so, has
better living through chemistry been tried on you yet?'

	`Drugs?  They made the voices go away.'

	`What are you taking?'

	`I don't know.  The doctor I saw gave me a program, and I feed it to
the replicators whereever I go.  The voices haven't come back, so it must be
working.'

	`That's not good.  How long has it been since you saw a shrink?'

	`That's slang for psychiatrist?'

	I nod.

	He thinks a moment, `Twenty-five years.'

	`I think you need your meds evaluated.'

	`Is that it?' he suddenly radiates annoyance and anger.

	`Maybe, maybe not.  But it should be tried first, before we start
rebuilding your brain or anything.'

	`Oh, that's good, then.'


-

	`I resent being appointed to the job of head-shrinker,' I grumph at
Janeway, who looks back at me over her desk.

	She waves me towards her sitting area, and I take a seat with ill
grace, folding my clawed feet up onto the opposite knees, into full lotus, on
the couch.

	`You're the best choice,' she says, `Coffee?' she offers.

	`Please,' I take the cup she hands me, `Thanks.  What do you mean, the
best choice?'

	`You've already absorbed the entire psychological database, haven't
you?'

	`Sorta, yeah,' I tell her.  Miki's got it all parsed, neatly arranged
so she can play with it.  I've not put the effort in yet, so it's just a
jumble that I can pull data out of.

	`That's better than anyone else here.'

	`Yeah, but I've no clinical experience.'

	`But you do.  You regularly come up with some warped insight into
sentient behavior that makes life easier for us.'

	I drop my chin and stare at her under my eyebrows, what would have
been over my glasses, if I still wore them.  `That compliment had a lot of
backspin.'

	A tiny smile twitches the corners of her lips up, `And you've gotten
Seska fixed enough that she's a happy member of my crew, and engaged in a
mutually beneficial relationship with another member of my crew.'

	`That was just using other people's research to mess with her head.
I'm damned lucky it worked out.'

	`Lieutenant Conner is, too.'

	`Doc Cooper fixed her up.'

	`Cooper?' Janeway shakes her head, `I don't need to know.  I was
referring to her relationship with Seska.'

	`I'm not so sure of that.  Every week one or both of them is by to
talk about it.  It's kinda annoying.  At least they are both trying hard to
make it work, and not pulling fun control and sabotage games.'

	`You even sound like one.'

	`Hey, I resemble that remark,' I tell her, straight faced.

	`Point,' she says.

	I smile, finally.

-

	`The drugs your old shrink gave you,' I start, pausing to wait for
Suder to acknowledge me.

	He nods, and indicates for me to continue.

	`Were pulled from use because they tend to include side effects of
uncontrolable violence.'

	`Oh.'

	`So, we're gonna stop those.  It'll take about a week for the levels
in your blood to drop far enough to safely try something else.  I've got four
different, supposedly safe, anti-psychotics to try on you.  The first one is
fairly similar to the one we're stopping, so hopefully it'll keep the voices
away, without causing violent impulses.'

	`And from your tone you don't fully expect it to work,' Suder smiles,
a little crooked.

	`Yep.  Better living through chemistry, maybe, sometimes.  But, I
really don't trust myself to rewire your brain, so if we can find the proper
chemicals, we'll do that first.'

	`Sounds good to me.'

	`So stop the current meds, and I'll have new ones at the end of the
week.  If you need to talk, call me, if you could write down any changes in
your emotional and mental state, that'd be good too, probably.'

	`You're sounding more like a shrink all the time.'

	`Don't tell me that, please.'

	Suder smiles, and it's an actually amused smile.

-

	The comm wakes us up, `Suder to Mizuno.'

	I sit up, B'El-chan having already rolled off to one side.  She's
giving the ceiling a nasty look.

	`Mizuno here.'

	`The voices are back,' he tells me, `And it's good that I'm confined
to quarters, because it gives me a really good argument why I shouldn't do
what they want me to do.'

	Miki?  What's his blood chem look like?  The drugs shouldn't have
been dealt with this fast.

	I had the nanoconstructors set up filters in his bloodstream.

	And you didn't tell me.

	Um, no.  sorry.

	Is he clean enough to give the new drugs?

	Yep.

	`Lon, go to the replicator, your new drugs should be there in just a
moment.'

	`Thank you.  How long will it take for them to build up to a usefull
level?'

	Bout a week.

	Suck.

	Yeah, oh well.

	`It'll be about a week.  In a couple days, the voices should start to
feel less real, and should go away again by the end of the week.'

	`Thank you.  Sorry to wake you.'

	`That's OK, I'm just glad it wasn't something worse.'

	`I would be too,' he tells me, then the comm channel closes.

	`Well,' B'El-chan tells me, `Since we're up at zero three thirty seven
in the morning, it really isn't worth going back to sleep,' her voice is
hinting all kinds of nice things.

	I turn to her, snuggle back in close, and bat my eyelashes, `Whatever
shall we do with an hour and a half, if not sleep?'

	`Oh, I don't know,' she leans in, and kisses me, `Something like this,
perhaps.'

	`Perhaps.'

-*

3168/Aftermath/43:	Finished "Meld", without any melds (suck, but oh well)

-*

	Ensign Wildman is going over her workup with the Doc, who's name is
Piperson this week.  He'd made a pained face at that, but hadn't asked me to
kick the randomizer.

	`Have you decided on a name, or are you going to let Mizuno choose
one?'

	`Greskrendrek is a possibility, but I don't know.  It's a little
long.'

	`Your husband's name?' I ask.

	`Yes.  Five generation tradition.'

	`Wow.' Kes smiles at her.

	`What else were you considering?'

	`Cameron.'

	`Celtic.  Means "Bent nose."'

	`Bent nose?'

	`Person with bent nose, but close enough,' I tell her.

	`Frederic?'

	`Bolian obscenity.'

	`Oh, what's it mean?'

	Miki whispers it in my head.

	`I don't think you want to know.'

	`Oh,' she looks crestfallen.

	`OK, "Person who enjoys sex with their ancestor's bones."'

	`You're right, I didn't want to know.'

	`How about "Soral?"'

	`At least two different dictators with a propensity for beheading
people.'

	`But they still name people Adolph,' I remind her.

	`That doesn't mean I would.'

	`You do know it's a girl, right?'

	`What?  You mean that wasn't just a game last week?'

	`It was, but it was right this time.  I just queried her
nanoconstructors.'

	`She's got nanoconstructors?  I didn't sign for them.'

	`They colonised through the placenta.  Miki worked up
the programing, and let them be.'

	`Programming?'

	`Yeah, they'd queried about what to do, and I told Miki to prog 'em
what to expect from a normal pregnancy, then forgot about it.'

	`Oh.  OK.  So I'm having a girl?'

	`Yep.  In a little while, anyway.'

	`That means I've got to go through all of this again, with girl's
names.'

	`No, you could just use one of the one's you've already thought
about.'

	`That'd be a little rude, though.'

	I smile at her.

-

	`So, what exciting news do we have today?' I ask, climbing out of the
Jeffries Tube onto the bridge.

	`One of my pet projects is wandering around the Delta Quadrant,
looking for a Cardasian world to blow up.'

	`Oh,' I wrap my arms around B'El-chan, carefull to avoid squishing
Gaigan, who's in my shirt again.

	`We called it a "Dreadnought," because it was impossible to stop.  The
Cardies built it, and sent it after a Maquis installation a few years back.
We threw everything we could at it, and it just kept going.  Luckly for us, it
had a faulty firing circuit, and just bounced off the atmosphere of the target
without exploding.'

	`So why's it here?'

	`I cought it, reprogrammed it, and sent it after Cardassia Prime.'

	`Oh.  That was rather rude, but why is it here?'

	`It got lost in the Badlands near Bajor.'

	`Oh.  So it's wandering the Delta Quadrant tooking for Cardassia
Prime,' she nods, `let me guess, it's found someplace that matches its target
criteria.'

	`Exactly.'

	`Are we going to catch it for a pet, or blow it up?'

	`I don't know.'

	`OK,' and I lay my cheek against her head.

-

	`I probably know more about that damned thing than the people who
built it.  I'm the only person who has a rat's chance of working around my
tamper-proofing and stopping it.'

	`Without blowing it up.'

	`Even if I wanted to blow it up, I don't think we could.  It's
programed to deal with all Federation and Cardassian weaponry.'

	`We've stepped a ways outside normal Fed weaponry,' I remind her.

	`True,' she agrees.

	`What sort of 'puter is it?'  Seska asks.

	`Normal Cardassian transtator/optical mix.  Very sturdy, hardened
against subspace flux, difficult to circumvent.'

	`Mizuno could shoot it full of nanoconstructors while you distract it.
Once the nanoconstructors have cut the computer off from the rest of the
weapon, we can do what we want to it.'

	`Good plan,' the Captain says, `Anyone have anything to add?'

	`Not on that, Captain.  The new airlocks in Cargo Bays One and Two are
done.  They're now big enough to handle the CZ with the wings folded.  The new
fighers will have to go through with the wings folded and the nose removed,
but they'll fit.'

	`These "Blue Sky" fighters are that close to finished?'

	`I can start manufacturing them at any time.  They'll take about a month
each to make, but they work very will in simulation, for what that's worth.'

	Everyone shares a wry look with me.

	`Exactly.  I've got a cradle for the CZ and four for the "Blue Sky"
fighters mounted under the shuttle bay.  I'd like to build one for testing
purposes, and to let me work on the niggling bugs I've got with the CZ.'

	`Do it,' Janeway tells me, `Anything else?' she asks, looking around.

	No one says anything.

	`Dismissed,' she tells us.

	I stand, black skirts swirling around my soft-armor tights.  The deep
blue material contrasts nicely, I think, with my green hair, and helps keep
people from complaining about how I dress.

	`Suika,' Seska says, softly, `We'd like to talk to you this evening,
if it's convienient.'

	I nod, `That'd be fine.'

	Miki checks back in with me, Oh, cool.  I'll get right on that.

	What have you been up to all week?

	This and that.  Re-reading all of our books, mostly.

	Oh.  I check, and they are all fresher in my memory.  Wow, I didn't
remember that.

	Yeah, it's kinda cool, isn't it.

	It is.  What have you been up to in the real world?

	Mostly boring crap.

	You're right, that was mostly boring.  Well, other than last night.
Or the night before that.  Or the one before that.  But I was paying attention
during all of that.

	Voyeur.

	Yeah, so?  I live in your head, after all.

	True, but.

	We get more work done this way, so stop complaining.

	I wasn't.  I tell her as I walk out the door of the conference room
onto the bridge.

-

	`Knock knock,' a female voice says from inside my little genkan.

	`Come in,' I say.

	`She said we could stop by,' Lieutenant Conner says, standing
diffidently besides Seska.

	`Yep.  Have a seat.  Coffee?' I wave at the pot, `Well, ersatz, but
better than last week's.'

	`Please,' Conner says, sitting down on the storage-array-couch.

	`Thank you,' Seska says, sitting down next to her.

	I watch their body language as I pour them each a cup.

	Conner looks at hers, `Asteroid?' she asks, tracing the distinctive
pattern on one of the iron parts of the cup.

	`Yep.  I thought it was too pretty to just throw in the hopper.'

	`You were right,' Seska says, softly.  Her thumb traces gently over a
stony part of her cup.

	They're sitting close together on the tall, backless couch, but not
quite touching, feet dangling several centimeters from the floor.  They keep
bringing shy glances up to each other, and I wonder about that.

	`So, what can I do for you?'

	`Um, well,' Conner flushes a bright red.

	`I want a set of restraints, because I don't trust myself not to hurt
her if we get too, involved.'

	I chase that thought around a moment.  During sex, baaka, Miki tells
me.

	Oh, right.

	`What do you need my help for?  Can't you just request them from the
replicator?'

	`Nope.  Such things are described as "Inhibitory to a healthy
relationship, except in extreme circumstances,"' Conner quotes,  `and can only
be authorized by the chain of command, doctor, or counselor.'

	`Which is me.  Next you're gonna tell me you can't replicate kitchen
knives unless you're a cook.'

	`You can't,' Seska says.

	`That's just kinda fucked up,' I say.  `What sort of restraints do you
want?'

	`StarFleet model 12R,' Seska says, `Which will allow us to--'

	`Seska!' Conner cuts her off, `I really don't think we need them, but
she won't go beyond light petting without them--'

	`SARA!' Seska is blushing a briliant red, which has spread down her
chest to the point of her v-necked shirt, and probably further.

	`OK, I get the idea.  'Puter, one set of restraints, StarFleet model
12R,' They appear in the replicator, and I fish out the heavy case they came
in.

	`Here you go,' I hand the case to Conner, `Now go have fun tying up
your girlfriend.'

	`You,' Conner sputters, then slaps at me with her free hand, lightly.

	`Yes, me,' I smile, showing my cute little fangs.

	`Thanks,' Seska says, `Here,' and hands me about eighty replicator
ration strips.

	`What're these for?'

	`Replicator cost for the restraints.'

	I look at them for a moment, then hand them back, `I've got more
rations than I need, find something fun to do with them.'

	`We will,' Conner says, catching Seska's hand in her free one, and
leading her away.

-

	`We've found the damnthing,' B'El-chan tells me, `Now we just need to
catch up to it and stop it.'

	`Good,' I tell her.

	`What were Sara Conner and Seska doing comeing out of here with a set
of 12Rs?  They just started blushing when I asked them.'

	`Can't tell you, since I was wearing my counselor hat.'

	`Oh. Oh well,' pause, then she blushes prettily, `Oh!  Gotcha.'

	`What?  I didn't say anything about it.'

	`You didn't need to.  I thought they'd been sleeping together for
weeks.'

	`We slept together for a couple months, too.'

	`What?' pause, `Oh, right.  That was very frustrating, you know.'

	`I know.  But it was a good sort of frustrating, wasn't it?'

	`I suppose.'

-

	`Now why are you so transporter-shy, again?' Janeway asks, as I sit
beside the quicklock, waiting for B'El-chan to ring me, and let me know my part
in this is ready.

	`I've gotten terribly complex, recently,' I twitch my ears, drawing
them back nearly flat against my head, then back forward, tips pricked, `and
the surface details are just that.  My nanoconstructors won't transport
properly, anymore.'

	`That's . . . ' Janeway trails off for a moment, then continues,
`Rather annoying.'

	`Speaking of annoying,' I tell her with a smile, to lessen any sting,
`What are you doing down here?'

	`It's the middle of Beta shift.  I can't hang around on the bridge and
micromanage, or Lieutenant Monroe will be convinced I don't trust her,' she
shudders, `and we can't have that.'

	`No, we can't,' I agree, remembering the last time.  That woman has a
voice that can cut glass, and when she whines . . . It's easier to stay off
her buttons, since she doesn't have many.

	`So you're going to hang out here, and fret instead?'

	`Pretty much.  If I'm bothering you . . . ' she gives me a look I
can't read.

	`You're not --'

	^G *Bing* Miki translates the eight bits for me.

	`Sorry, gotta go,' I tell her, and step into the quicklock.  The inner
door closes again, and the coffin-like space is quickly pumped out, and the
outer door opens.  It takes a couple more seconds with me than it would have
with a taller person in a full space suit, or one of the smaller SNBC armors,
but far less time than a normal lock.

	Full impulse takes me out half a light second, then sets me on an
inertial course to intercept the dreadnaught, about 7pi/6 from V'ger's
position.  My systems are quite stealthy, and I close my eyes and wait,
listening to the dreadnaught burble to itself, getting closer, closer, over
interminable minutes.  Finally, I'm close enough, and I let the ball of
adhesive and nanoconstructors loose, not flinging it, but not just letting it
go, either.  For a moment I fear I've missed, then Miki flashes the
trajectory.  It's good, but only barely.  You should have let me throw it, she
complains.  But I did the sim time.  _I_ don't need it, she arches back.
Humph! and I image throwing my head back and my nose in the air.

	A quick smile flashes before me, and the dreadnaught is fading behind.

-

	`So, how did it go?'

	`Success!  I talked it around, and it shut down.'

	`Cool.  I gooed it.  The goo says things are going according to plan.'
I point at the picture.

	`It just shows the dreadnaught,' Paris starts, `Computer, apply false
colors to simulate Mizuno's visual range.'

	Faint red and purple dots appear all over the dreadnaught's surface.

	A brighter red appears at its exhaust vents.

	`Feck,' B'El-chan says, and the dreadnaught goes to warp.

-

	The Rakosa First Minister is rather distraught, but maintaining a good
facade, `We're anticipating two million deaths.'

	`That's good,' I tell him, `That's fewer than any of a dozen of our
leaders killed of our own people.  How about we leave you to it?'

	`That's the entire population of our planet,' he says.

	I put my hand on the back of my head, and I'm sure I've a puzzled
expression.  No, I don't know how they maintain an interstellar civilization
with so few people either.  Whell, that makes not-quite-two of us, then.
There's always not-quite-two of us, ^_^  Ain't it grand? I ask her, How are
the nanoconstructors doing?  We'll have to stall it for a few more minutes,
maybe fifteen more than we have right now.

	`Active sustainers.  I should be able to knock it out of warp a couple
times,' I look to Janeway.

	She nods, `Go, blow things up.'

	I smile, and stott from the room, quick little bounces with my knees
straight.

	The Rakosa is complaining as I make my way down the Jefferies tube,
`Why do you permit such an insolent person --'

	Janeway cuts him off, `Because she's useful, and she's probably going
to save your worthless hides.'

	`Worthless!  Who are you to be --'

	`Continue to evacuate.  Her contribution to this charade with come to
fuition in 6 hours, and the dreadnaught will be there in five and,' I lose the
conversation as I go through the door on deck seven, then back, then out into
the hall.

-

	One last tunnel, and I'm in the CZ's cockpit, checking what I've got
loaded.  Flux torpedo under the left wing, fifty-MT fusion weapon under the
right, eighty-five duranium, sixteen passive sustainer, and eight
active-sustainer rounds for the spinal railgun, both lasers and the phaser
banks charged.

	`Let's go,' I mutter, and flip the release switch.  The little fighter
shakes as it drops out of V'gers warp field, her own warp field's natural
harmonies just slightly out of sync with V'gers.

	`Voyager, stay back at least fifty light seconds,' I instruct them.

	`Roger,' Kim says, `Maintaining fifty light second's distance.'

	`Thank you,' I say, and flip the arming switches on the flux torpedo
and the fusion weapon.  A quick tap loads an active sustainer into the
railgun.  All at once, or sequential? Miki asks me, then answers her own
question, Quick succession, flux torpedo to shake it up, sustainer to
hopefully knock it out of warp, then the fusion weapon to scorch it a bit.
So, you think it'll work? I ask her.  Maybe, maybe not, those engines are
pretty strong.  Yatte mitte ne?  Un.

	The firing sequence appears on the board, and `Now,' we both say.

	Both weapons drop from the hardpoints, first the left, then the right,
then the railgun fires, a second and a half after the torpedos.

	Two minutes later the flux wash hits us, and half a minute after
that, the flash.  I flash past the dreadnaught, and curl around back to V'ger.

	`Status?' Janeway asks me.

	`Success,' I reply, `dreadnaught has been knocked down to warp six.
Half of her engines are fried, and a few are leaking plasma and antimatter.
Repairs estimated at three days.'

	`At warp six, it is five days from Rakosa.'

	`Good.'

-

	Someone jostles me as I sit, apathetic, staring at the mess I've made
of my cute little Cosmo Zero's warp coil.  They mutter an appology, and set
the pallet of recovered material with the rest, then draw the manual forklift
back out and lead it off.

	Fried.  A full quarter of the windings are distorted.  Estimated
remaining life, a paltry six hours.  At cruise.  I only put eight -- No,
remember?  Thirty-six hours testing, at cruise.  Sixty-three at supercruise,
remember?  That interesting set of artifacts, which we spent three days
looking at while V'ger went on without us?  Then another week at cruise?  That
patrol?  Then --

	Right.  I shoulda checked the thing over about sixteen times by now,
OK?  I'm getting off my butt, and will start.  Stop poking.  I stand up, and
smile.

	But it's fun!

-*

3168/Aftermath/43:	"Dreadnought" finished.  I'm not going to bother with
			the actuall destruction of this episode's namesake,
			since grey-gooing something is really rather boring.
			It's found, the computer's isolated, the warp drive
			goes wonky, and it blows itself up.

			Maybe I will bother, after all, but not just yet.

3169/Confusion/21:	I bothered.  Yay.

-*

	I prop my head on B'El-chan's shoulder, and watch as she sets up the
containment field, then the transporters.  She bumps me with her chin, `Good?'

	`Fine,' I tell her.

	She activates the transporter, and beams up our sample of strange
comet.  It promptly appears, as a strange human male in 'fleet uniform.
Command branch, current issue, 'fleet uniform.

	He walks out of the containment field, and introduces himself,
`Hello,' a little smile, `My name is Q.'

	`Well, that's fucked it,' I say, grabbing B'El-chan firmly.

	`You're an odd one,' he says, looking at me, reaching over B'El-chan's
shoulder to touch my face.  I pull it back, and he desists, `I can see the
marks of the Slaver trap in your genetic code, but you've done something to
it.  That's lovely,' he smiles.

	`Captain!' B'El-chan calls up, `We've a visitor.  He says his name is
Cue.'

	The red alert sirens start blaring, and the lights flash.  Q looks
amused, and Janeway replies, `I'll be right down.'

	`Don't bother, Captain,' Q replies, `I'll take you to lunch instead,'
and he vanishes in a flash of light.

	Where?  Mess hall.

	`Come on,' I step back, grab B'El-chan's hand, and hurry out of the
room, dragging her along with me towards the turbolift for once.

-

	We get there just as Q confronts Kes, `You only live to be nine years
old!' he gushes, `Oh, how I envy you.  The thing I want more than any other is
to die!'

	The Captain doesn't look as amused as she should, `I don't know what
you want here, but I know who you are --'

	I cut her off, `That's a different Q.'

	`What?' she asks, turning to me.

	`Yes, that is a different Q,' he steps back, `I had better get on with
this before the others find me,' and he holds out his hand, `I do this not for
me, but for you,' and waves his fingers.  Paris vanishes, his fork dropping to
the table.

	I look around.  All of the males are missing.

	Q looks a little bit concerned, `Whoops, that wasn't right. . . '

	`Get them back here!' Janeway says, getting into his face.

	He waves his hands, and lights flash, but nothing much else happens.
Some of the flashing lights are kinda interesting, and I'm glad I've got the
sensors in here upgraded, because the subspace effects I'm hearing are a
little . . . odd.  `I apologize for the inconvienience, but I really must be
going now,' he starts.

	Janeway jumps his case, `Bring my people back, Now.'

	He dithers, and looks embarassed, `Who has the most experience with
humans?'

	Another flash of light, and the Q who looks like John de Lancie
appears, with a little scowl on his face, `What is it now?'

	`This one wants to die, and he's vanished about half our crew,' I tell
him, scowling.  `It would be appreciated if you brought them back, and showed
this one how to kill himself.  He's been botching it.'  I step forward,
putting myself closer to the Q, but not blocking B'El-chan's view.

	`Botching it?'

	`Yeah, he got himself stuck in a comet, and then disappeared the male
crew when he tried just now.'

	`Oh, that's what's going on,' Q snaps his fingers, and the vanished
are back, and we're on the bridge.  He smiles at Chakotay, `Facial art.  Ooh,
how very wilderness of you.'

	Chakotay scowls at him.

	Q motions for the other Q to follow him.

	The other Q shakes his head, `I want asylum, I've been locked up for
three hundred years, and I'm not going back into confinement.'

	Q looks annoyed.

	The other Q waves his hand, and the ship starts shaking.

	What?  A whole lot of nothing.  What?  Oh.

	`The universe is about six seconds old right now,' I say, `well,
several seconds older than that now, but.'

	`I don't think V'ger would survive the shockwave when it hits,'
B'El-chan says, from one of the consoles.  I hadn't noticed her move.  I did.
Oh, good.

	`Imagine the honor of having your pretty little DNA spread throughout
the universe,' Q says, leaning over her.

	Before I really think about it, I've grabbed him by the collar, and am
pulling him back.

	He vanishes, and the ship shudders as something hits our shields.
Protons.  Protons?  Fecking protons.

	`He'll never find us here,' the annoying Q says.

	Q appears, and I scowl at him.

	He vanishes again, appearing on-screen, much larger than life.
V'ger's a Christmas ornament.  Christmas ornament?  What the frilly heck!
That was a cute episode, wasn't it?  Yes, it was.  I think they're gonna break
'em up.  I fear they are, and we can't do a damn thing about it.  Nope.  Sad,
that.  Somewhat.

	`You and your Vaunted Q Continuum!  I will not have you endangering my
crew!' Janeway interrupts my discussion with Miki about Buffy.

	`Has anyone told you you're angry when you're beautiful?' Q asks, then
reappears inside the ship.  Back in the Delta Quadrant where we started.

	`What's the big deal,' I ask, before they get more than a few words of
bickering out, `You offed, well, the Q Continuum offed, Amanda's parents.'

	`Amanda?' Annoying Q asks.

	`'Bout twenty years ago, two Q got evicted from the Continuum for
something, had a child, and died.  The child was brought into the Continuum, I
think, I don't really remember.'

	`Evicted is such a harsh word,' Q says, `And we would have taken them
back if they asked properly, but they didn't want to.'

	`Where were they?' Annoying Q asks.

	`Earth.'

	`So, what is the difference?'

	`He didn't do anything wrong.'

	`Then why did you lock him up?'

	`Because he was going to harm himself.'

	I pull out my pocket knife, open it, this is going to hurt, and mess
up the edge.  Nanoconstructors should be able to fix it.  Good.  I place my
hand flat on one of the consoles, wait for it to go dark, and jab the knife
between my bones.

	Q looks a little bit impressed, and B'El-chan is at my side, grabbing
my hand, warm against my back through the wool and soft armor I'm wearing.

	`What was that for?' Annoying Q asks.

	`Let go,' I tell B'El-chan softly, breathe deeply.  B'El-chan lets go,
and I jerk the knife out, dripping blood.  `If something needs to be done, do
it, don't put it off because it will hurt,' I say, frowning at the mauled
blade.  I fold it, and tuck it bloody back into my hip pocket.

	`You know you will heal cleanly, with no permanent damage,' Q says,
`We do not.'

	I trace the gash the blade made in the console, `I don't know, but I
believe.  That is enough.'

	`It isn't always,' Q says.

	`We'll have a hearing,' Janeway says.

	`Oh, fine, take things into your own hands,' Q scowls, `But they are
nice hands.'

	Janeway glares at him, `We'll follow the asylum hearings to the
letter.'

	Q and Annoying Q hash things out, and agree to conditions.

	With a final whinge and leer, Q raises his hand.

	`Picard wouldn't like you flirting with other captains,' I tell him.

	He looks at me, actually blushes, and vanishes.

	`What was that?' Janeway asks.

	`There's lots of fanfic, slash fanfic, with him and Picard,' I tell
Janeway, `I think he might have read what I've got with me.'  Or maybe he's
done some or a lot of it, and doesn't want anyone to know.  That might be more
fun, in some ways.  It might ^_^

	Annoying Q smiles, and vanishes as well.  I clench my fist, wince, and
turn to look at B'El-chan.  Her pupils are huge, and she smiles at me, `Don't
do that again.' 

	`Not without good reason,' I tell her, and lead her towards the
Jeffries tube.

	She follows willingly enough.

-

	My hand's mostly healed, so it doesn't hurt at all as she licks the
half-dried red blood from my fingers, pretty little growls slipping from her
throat.

	She pulls back to take a breath, and I press forward to kiss her.

-

	It's been two days, and they're still going at it.  I roll my new
spare warp coil for the CZ out of the fab, pick up the hundred and ninety kilo
weight, carry it to door of the cargo bay, and out.

	Ensign Nameless passes me in the hall, so I stop, ask her about
(acting) Ensign Johns, her girlfriend.  We talk for a little bit, then she
makes excuses about needing to let me get `That heavy thing' where it's going.
I let her, and carry it the rest of the way to my parts room, under the
shuttle bay.

-

	Well, annoying Q is now Quinn, and mortal.  I float up behind
B'El-chan, and wrap my hands around her, cupping her belly in one hand and her
breast in the other.  She growls, and turns her head, reaching for me with her
lips.

	`Mizuno to Sickbay,' or maybe he's dead.  Sigh.

-

	He's not dead yet, so I'm pestering him, `Do you have objections to
being revived?'

	`Of course I do,' he gasps, his throat locking from the hemlock.

	`Atropine!' I tell Doctor Bog.

	He slaps a hypospray into my hand, and I hit Quinn with it in the
neck, `This will just delay things for a little while, so I can talk to you,'
I tell him.

	`OK,' he manages, his nose running and eyes watering as the neurotoxin
slowly kills him.

	`So you want to stay dead?'

	`Yes, it is my gift to the Continuum.'

	`I intend to live forever, or die trying,' I tell him.

	`Good luck,' he says, and smiles, gagging again.

	We turn him to one side so he doesn't asphixiate as he dry heaves.

	`This is really quite undignified,' he says, just before his heart
stops.  It must hurt quite a lot, but he maintains a little smile as his eyes
go completely unfocused.

-

	`Where did he get the hemlock?' Janeway asks.

	I call the footage up on screen, a small labeled bottle appearing in a
flash of light.

	`And you didn't do anything?'

	`I didn't watch it until after he died,' I tell her, `You didn't tell
me he was under observation, and I had other things occupying my hands.'

	B'El-chan blushes.

	I chose not to correct myself.

	A flash of light fills the room, `I've decided,' Q says, `That I'm Q's
student again.  He wanted to die because there was nothing new, so I'm not
going to let that continue.'

	`And you'll look up Picard?' I ask, smiling.

	`I'll be back, sometime you're not looking for me,' he says, ignoring
me.  `And maybe I'll bring Jean-Luc,' he tells me, so I guess he wasn't
ignoring me after all.

-*

3170/Bureaucracy/52:	"Death Wish" down.  Took me a long time, but oh well.
			Most of that was not working on it.

-* 

	*Shink chlink*  The blades spring forth, the carbon-carbon composite
glistening with the mucus that lubricates them.  It takes me a moment to
release them, the pumps moving the long-chain liquid hydrocarbon almost as
quickly as I'd hoped to be able to manage, but faster than I'd feared.  The
segmented blades shrink to a third of their extended length, then slide back
into my forearm.

	*Shink chlink*  They spring forth again, the stasis field locking into
place this time.  I admire the way the light flares off the perfectly
reflective surface, the utterly hard and completely inflexible articulations
strange in my hand and arm.  However, without them there is far too great a
likelyhood of my losing parts were I ever to use the things in combat.  Not
that I think I will.

-

-*

START

(even later)

	`Thermion radiation?  Back in a bit, Captain.'
[]

	`Captain?'  I ask her, `Could I speak to you in private?'

	`Sure.'

[]
	I glare at captain Ransom, then flash something derogatory at him in
Ctholon.

	The captain almost smiles at the comment, a vengeful little smile.
B'El-chan looks grim, and Severin smiles her superior smile.

	`What does that mean?'  Ransom asks, blustering.

	`The admiral,' Severin indicates me, `Intimated that you enjoy conjugal
relations with Denebian Slime devils,' she manages a passible "ick" face, `by
asking if you needed to kill them first, since she doesn't believe that
stunning them would be sufficent to keep them from,' Severin pauses, as if
searching for a translation, `disembowling such a repugnant excuse for a
human.'

	Captain Ransom, quite appropriately, turns a whiter shade of pale.

	`I'm impounding your ship.  You and your crew will be spending the rest
of the trip to earth in stasis, and will face charges when we get there.'

	`What?' he blusters, `I've seen some of the things,'

	`How?  Court of law, anything you say can and will, all that rot.'  I
mangle his Miranda rights at him.