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Act II: "Alright then," announced Admiral Shelby. "If there are no more questions, meeting adjourned." As everyone began to stand, Shelby turned to Commander Donovan. "Commander, if I might make a request." Kelly's eyes grew wide as he imagined what kind of request the admiral would ask of him. It has to do with my tardiness, thought Donovan. "About being late, I can expl..." "No, Commander," Shelby raised a hand to stop Donovan in mid-sentence. "It's about Ensign da Silva. His father was the CO of Utopia Planetia, and he must be told about the Admiral's death from someone close to him." "Would you like me to break the news to the ensign?" asked Donovan. "Actually I was only hoping you could suggest someone for that role, but if you feel capable. Then by all means." Donovan gave an understanding nod and started to move towards the turbo-lift. Shelby wasn't going to let him get away that easily, "And commander." Donovan stoped dead in his tracks and turned to face Shelby. "Yes ma'am." "Don't be late for a staff meeting again. You are my second in command, and if I can't trust you, who can I trust." Shelby's words were demanding, but not accusatory. "Yes, ma'am. Understood." Donovan felt relieved. The last thing he needed now was a confrontation with his senior officer. He remembered a conversation much like this with Admiral Johnson right after he arrived on Starbase 47. His relationship with Stan Johnson had almost reached the father-son level, but with Admiral Shelby that kind of association couldn't be expected. She was almost a year younger, and motherly would most definitely NOT describe the Admiral. That thought brought a half-smile to Donovan's face as he continued his journey to the turbo-lift. One lone figure still sat at the conference table -- Dr. Leah Brahms. Admiral Shelby approached her cautiously. Words of comfort weren't Elizabeth's specialty, so she decided to talk business. "It's good that you remained Doctor. I need to speak with you concerning a Starfleet matter." Dr. Brahms said nothing. Her face was pale with a blank expression. She seemed to be staring at something just beyond the edge of the conference table. The silence was unsettling for Admiral Shelby and had to be filled with words, sounds, something. "I'm not an empath," Shelby spoke quietly, "but I know what you're going through." Leah furrowed her brow and slowly turned her gaze to the Admiral. "How?" she asked with a look of unbelief that implied, "don't try to lie to me." Shelby got a wistful expression on her face as she answered, "I was 10 years old when my father was killed. I remember playing with my sister in our bedroom aboard the U.S.S. Valiant when I heard the door chime. I hoped it was my father coming back from his away mission. I stopped in the doorway because I could see it was the Captain speaking with my mother. Her face changed from anticipation to shock to disbelief and finally complete sadness. I saw those same emotions on your face when I announced the news about Utopia Planetia." "This is not just about my husband." Dr. Brahms' face lost some of its emptiness, only to be replaced by annoyance. "I've lost everything! My colleagues, my research, my home, I've lived on Utopia Planetia for over 25 years. And now it's all gone! I'm sorry but with all due respect, there is no way that you can understand the extent of my loss." With emotions so close to the surface, Leah was mere nanometers away from losing complete control. She quickly folded her arms tightly across her chest and turned away from the admiral to face the window furthest from where she was sitting. Shelby was at a loss for words. This situation was never covered at Starfleet Academy, she thought to herself. Seeing Leah's response triggered memories long buried of her own father's death. How she watched her mother languish under the pain and emptiness that death - especially unexpected death - brings. Her mother never recovered from the ensuing depression, and ultimately the weapon blast that claimed her father, ended up taking her mother as well. Shelby didn't want that to happen with Dr. Brahms. Drawing strength from this resolve, she tried anew. "Dr. Brahms you are needed, now more than ever. You are the senior design engineer for the Prevaricate class starship. If the Federation has any hope of defeating the Dominion, we need our best and brightest to lead that charge. Starbase 47 has been given the responsibility - the challenge - of finding a way to rebuild the fleet with the Prevaricate, and you are the best choice to do that. And by the authority of Starfleet Command I hereby offer you the non-commissioned rank of Lieutenant Commander." The words hit Dr. Brahms like a bucket full of cold water down her back. Leah sat bolt upright and turned to face Shelby. With eyes wide and mouth agape she stammered out, "What?!? ... What do you mean?" Shelby leaned a little closer and lowered her voice slightly, "You can start a new life here. Let us help fill the void. You're needed." For a business opportunity, Shelby was taking this personally. Too many strong memories can do that. Leah pulled back a bit. "I'll need some time to think about it," she replied. "Starting a new life shouldn't be decided impulsively." "Yes, think it over." Shelby rose and extended her hand, "but let me be the first to know what your decision is." "Count on it!" Leah took Shelby's hand and noticed it was warm and strong. Turning to leave the briefing room, Leah's head and heart were full. In the last hour her life had been blasted into a billion pieces, and a new life had been presented for her. What could life on Starbase 47 offer for me? Could I find a home here with these people? Why me? Desperately needing time to think and sort things out, she entered the Turbo-lift and ordered her destination, "Take me to the Rendezvous lounge." The turbo-lift hummed for what was beginning to seem like forever, but was in fact only 33 seconds, as Laxis started getting anxious. He had heard rumors of the Rendezvous lounge, and what he heard made him as curious as a cat. "Come on; come on," the Lieutenant said under his breath, almost believing his coaxing could make the lift arrive more quickly. As if by magic the lift suddenly stopped and the doors slid open. Laxis' jaw dropped and his eyes sparkled as he entered the cavernous room. It was enormous. From top to bottom it spanned at least five decks, and from side to side about one-third of the station's circumference. The tall support beams were made of some sort of crystalline material resembling diamond. The far wall was completely transparent aluminum and gave a breathtaking view of the planet Cignus 7 below and the stars of the Cignus Nebula above. Laxis could feel his heart beating more quickly as he made his way between the tables and people to a spot near the center of the room. Various humanoids occupied the tables and dancing areas - most in starfleet uniforms. Laxis smiled because even though he could see the bands, the only music he heard was the soft murmurings of the conversations nearest him. "They must have implemented some sort of sonic dampening field here to improve the acoustics," thought Laxis. "I bet some of my friends would like me to wear a personal dampening field." That thought made Laxis snicker out loud. A small group of people sitting at a table just a few meters in front of Laxis laughed, and all but one stood up. "Here's my chance to meet someone," thought Laxis as he approached the group. "Yeah, you do that," said the remaining female to her companions. The big smile on her face told Laxis that her personality was very similar to his own. Laxis stopped to allow the three others to walk past him towards the lifts. The three were absorbed in their own conversation and didn't notice the Andorian at all. "Their loss," fancied Laxis as he turned his attention to the remaining occupant at the table. Laxis needed a good ice-breaker - something that didn't sound dumb and contrived. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't help but think of the joke pick-up lines that Ensign Bailey told him a couple months ago. Laxis stared at the planet outside the station as he racked his brain. Its dark side was rotating into view, revealing the lights of one of the Cygnus 7 mining colonies. The pattern was an intricate spider-web looking design of a double spiral and many spokes radiating outward. "That is so beautiful," voiced Laxis, forgetting the pretty female sitting not two meters away. "Don't let your eyes fall out," snickered the female as she picked up her drink and focused on Laxis. "When did you arrive?" she asked. "Damn, she's using the pick-up lines," thought Laxis. He turned and looked at her face and immediately found something more beautiful than the lights of the mining colony. Her hair was raven black, her lips cranberry red, and there was a hint of green in her complexion. "I .. uh .. my ship .. um .. I mean ..." stammered Laxis. He wasn't supposed to feel like this when he first meets the girl. He cleared his throat and started over, "How did you know I was new?" "I don't have a photographic memory, but I'm positive that I've never met an Andorian with red hair before." Her ever present smile was warm and inviting. "Allow me to introduce myself," as she extended her hand, "Yeoman Jennica Emm." "Lieutenant Laxis." "What, no first name? Don't you trust me yet?" Jennica smiled wryly. "Without double vocal chords, you wouldn't be able to pronounce it." Laxis indicated the empty chair next to Jennica, "Is this seat taken?" "Go for it blue boy." Sitting down, Laxis motioned to a passing waiter. "Gimme an Andorian ale." The waiter nodded once and went off to the bar. "Tell me," said Laxis, "what is a beautiful young Yeoman doing so far away from civilized space?" "I'm studying non-organic life-forms. You know, the Sheliak, the microbrains of Velara III, and the Horta here on Cignus 7." "But aren't the Horta indigenous to the Janus star system?" Laxis' interest was growing beyond the physical. "This is one terrific woman," he thought to himself. He leaned forward in his chair putting his elbows on the table and chin in his hands. "They were up until 4 years ago." Jennica brushed stray hair strands behind her ear. "The Federation established mining colonies on Cignus 7 right about the time the Klingon moon Praxis exploded. The planet is rich in precious minerals, but it's crust is unusually dense making mining difficult. After the Horta joined the Federation, many expressed a desire to explore other worlds." Laxis put two and two together, "So the Federation brought them here to aid in the mining." "Bingo!" Jennica took a sip of her drink and thoughtfully stared out the huge windows. "But last year the transplanted Horta started dying. Starfleet got concerned and sent their best and brightest." "That's a pretty conceited view of yourself," said Laxis, changing the tone back to the earlier light-heartedness. His comment made Jennica smile, but the wistful look on her face didn't change. "I'm assisting Dr. Mendrik, the Benzite scientist, whose view on the matter is too simplistic for me to accept." Curious, Laxis asked quietly, "What's his prognosis?" "He says," Jennica faced Laxis and looked deep in his eyes, "everything dies eventually." The bright yellow sun shone like a fireball in the clear, cloudless, California sky. A small insect flew across the parched earth, over the black road way, and became a yellow-green smear on the car's windshield. "Wow, they put bugs in here," grinned Ensign da Silva. "Those Bynars think of everything." The hot wind stung Ensign da Silva's cheeks and screamed like a swarm of angry hornets as he down shifted into the hair-pin turn. His tires gripped nicely. Da Silva accelerated his Lotus powered, indy-car toward the back straight to the cheers of the computer generated crowd. He needed the speed because up ahead was the hill that made the Laguna Seca raceway unique. Of all the holographic race courses that the Bynars created for him, this was the best -- the most challenging. Da Silva passed under the enormous Dunlop tire bridge at 280 kph. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and inhaled deeply. Sparks came off of the undercarriage as the vehicle bottomed out, then rocketed uphill. The suspension bounced the race-car slightly causing da Silva to loose traction. "Merde!" exclaimed the Ensign as he struggled to keep the car from sliding sideways. He got control back just in time to hit the breaks at the top of the hill. Da Silva knew that at the top was the most difficult S-turn of all racing, and he had to get his speed under 30 kph or else he would end up in the wall. Unexpectedly, his communicator beeped, causing him to mis-judge the turn. His breaks locked up and the acrid smell of burning rubber filled da Silva's nostrils. "Commander Donovan to Ensign da Silva, please respond," came a voice from inside the ensign's helmet. "Not now!" thought da Silva as his car slid uncontrollably forward when it should be turning left. He pulled his foot off of the brake, and his tires gained hold on the asphalt. Too much - too late. The vehicle veered left as the roadway dropped away and the second half of the S-turn - the right-turn part - moved away from the Lotus powered indy-car and the wall of tires moved into it. "Computer, freeze program!" shouted Ensign da Silva as the tire wall flew apart. The voice in his helmet was back again, "Ensign da Silva, are you there?" Da Silva pulled off his gloves and removed the steering wheel. "Yes, commander, I'm on Holodeck 16," replied the ensign disgustedly as he clambered out of the cockpit. He quelled his disappointment and asked, "What do you need, sir?" "Come to my quarters, as soon as you can. I have an urgent matter to discuss with you." "Aye, sir, I'll be right down. Da Silva out." Fustrated, he signaled to the Bynars to save and exit the program. He'd have to try to beat the Laguna Seca raceway later. This was turning out to be a rotten day. . . . "What a lousy day," voiced Lieutenant Baylis to no one in particular. A fourth year engineer, Baylis had experience working on all sorts of Federation space craft, but this was the first time he'd ever been asked to install quantum torpedoes on a science vessel - the U.S.S. Diecius. "There ain't no way to cram the extra circuits in here." Baylis knew he had the bad habit of talking to himself, but instead of seeking treatment, he preferred to choose the more solitary work assignments - like this one - running the redundant circuits necessary for the quantum torpedo launchers deep in the bowels of the ship. Reaching up into the open hatch, Baylis grabbed a handful of wire and pulled. It was slick and slid through his fingers. "Come on you sorry excuse for . . ." the engineer's voice trailed off. His eyes wide with shock and fear. He grabbed for his torch, and it rolled away from his fingertips. Not daring to take his eyes off of his discovery, Baylis reached up and tapped his comm badge to activate it. It beeped politely awaiting his instructions, but for the first time in his life, the engineer was at a loss for words. "Security," Baylis finally stammered. "Security here," answered a pleasant female voice. "How can we assist you?" "I need ... Um ... Get someone up here." Baylis tore his gaze away and took a deep breath. "I've found a dead body on board the Diecius." "Understood Lieutenant." The female voice paused for a second and then continued, "I can't get a lock on your position - some sort of interference. What's your location and should a medical team be sent as well?" Baylis got a hand on his palm light and looked back into the hatchway. He saw the mangled remains of an upper torso and human head. "No medical. This ensign isn't going anywhere." . . . "Main engineering," ordered ensign Hansen to the turbolift computer. It's movement could barely be felt. The changeling smiled with and evil grin. This is just too easy, it thought. It took me months back on Utopia Planetia to gain this amount of access. This space station will soon be so much space debris. The changeling thought back to an earth rhyme it had once heard, 'and all the kings horses and all the kings men,' couldn't put the Federation together again. "Ha ha ha!" the changeling laughed out loud. The turbolift suddenly stopped and two female starfleet officers entered. They had heard the changeling's laugh and smiled as they entered. "What's so funny?" one asked as the lift continued on to it's destination. The being shook its head. "Ladies," it began, "it's simply to die for." Then it began laughing again. Not an evil laugh like before but a hearty belly laugh. Soon the two female were snickering, and giggling right along with the being. The changeling made a mental note, "laughter among humanoids is very contagious." Soon the lift stopped and it's doors opened to reveal the hallway just outside of main engineering. With a extravagant bow, the changeling backed out into the corridor. The two females applauded and one even said, "Bravo!" before the doors closed and the changeling was alone. He walked the short distance to the engineering entrance, then stopped. Seeing his reflection in the wall comm unit, he realized that as an ensign he wouldn't get far. In the blink of an eye he became Admiral Shelby and continued into main engineering. Although it was in the middle of the night duty cycle, main engineering was a buzz with activity. The changeling had overheard the real Shelby going over her itinerary back on board the Diecius. It knew the admiral planned to visit all main areas of the station soon after arriving. The chief of engineering was simply getting everything ready. "My God, you're early," someone said. The changeling looked to the left and saw a heavyset man with red hair approach rapidly. He extended his hand as he got near. "Admiral, Chief Engineer Sorenson at your service. We weren't expecting you until tomorrow." The changeling grasped the engineer's hand and shook it firmly. It analyzed the fleshy warmth and the bone structure. "I didn't mean to intrude, but I found it hard to sleep tonight. A new bed can do that to a person - even an admiral." The changeling smiled and Sorenson smiled back. "I was hoping I could speak with you in private." "Oh sure," said the engineer. "Let's step into my office." As they entered the small closed room, Sorenson barked some orders to a lieutenant nearby and then shut the door behind him. He walked over to a replicator panel and asked, "What would you like?" "Your job." answered the changeling as it stepped another meter closer to the chief of engineering. "That's a good one, ma'am," said the engineer, "but tell me really." The being took one more step closer to Chief Sorenson. "I'm telling the truth." It raised its right hand up and with its index finger poked the overweight engineer. "I want your job," it spoke without emotion. Suddenly the finger became a long sharp dagger, and the changeling thrust the blade into the flabby chest of the man, through his heart and two centimeters into the wall next to the replicator. The changelings left hand became a gag and quickly covered the man's mouth, keeping him from screaming for help. The face of the admiral expanded, the blond hair became short and red, and in the voice of the chief engineer, the changeling simply said, "Get the point."
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