The captain leaned back in her chair and looked thoughtfully at the counselor. It had been a hard decision to make but one that the captain would stand by.

"On the contrary, Lt. Cmdr. Ranzz," Captain Projectra said, her voice even and unaffected by neither previous outburst nor the contemptuous look on the young girl's face. "I have already done it."

"I cannot believe you did this behind my back," Counselor Ranzz said, starting to pace the floor along the length of the Captain's desk. As she did, the azure dress she wore billowed behind her.

The captain studied the young woman. She was an attractive woman of twenty-six with an even temper and an outgoing personality. She'd come on board only a year ago and was very efficient in her role as ship's counselor. That is what made it so hard. That, and the fact that she and the young woman had become friends.

"Captain," the woman in question said, returning her voice to its even measure. "May I ask why I am being transferred? Are you unhappy with my performance?"

"No," the captain said, intending her response to answer both questions.

"No?"

"That is correct."

"What do you mean, 'no'? I think I have a right to know why I'm being gotten rid of."

The captain stood and walked to the window. She peered out into the blackness of space and the pinpricks of light that streaked by. After a few moments of contemplation, she turned back to the Winathian. Ayla was smoothing back a strand of the long strawberry blond hair that had fallen over her shoulder.

"I think you would better serve another ship and another captain."

"That's all?" Ayla asked, sure that the answer would be more profound or, at least, more detailed.

"Yes."

"But..."

"I said," the captain said, her voice laced with authority. "That will be all. Your departure will be within the next six hours. A shuttle from the Titan will be waiting at DS9 to take you to your new posting."

"What gave you the right to arbitrarily suggest my transfer without even consulting me, first?"

The captain walked toward the door to the Ready Room. As the doors hissed open, she turned in the doorway and regarded the counselor. "The rank of captain gives me the right, Lt. Cmdr. Ranzz. If you have a complaint, file it with Starfleet."

Ayla Ranzz was left alone in the Ready Room as the Captain continued on her way to the bridge. Upon entering the bridge, Captain Projectra took her seat in the elevated command chair and punched up a progress schematic. After confirming its readings, she cleared the screen.

"Heading, Lt. Dawnstar," she said to the young American Indian woman at the Navigation station.

"On course for DS9," was the caramel response.

Lt. Gim Allon, the Helm Officer to her left looked over at her for the briefest of instants. He never got over her regal appearance. Her smooth features, the decorative eight-point star at her forehead, her silky black hair in the long braid down her back and her incredibly form-fitting scarlet and black uniform.

"Lt. Allon," the Captain said, snapping him from his ogling of Dawnstar. "Progress report."

Dawnstar smiled as he stammered over himself. He had been caught again, and again, he was vainly trying to exonerate himself.

As he finished his progress report, Counselor Ranzz exited the Ready Room and took her seat beside the Captain. Her face was the picture of composure. There was no hint of the previous rage she'd felt. After all, wasn't her job to be in control of her emotions? Of course it was.

Projectra afforded her a glance then looked forward at the veiwscreen. "Captain," said a soft, but steady voice from the aft station directly behind Projectra. "Incoming message from the Titan."

"Onscreen, Lt. Digby."

The forward veiwscreen blinked and the starfield was replaced by the face of a wizened but kind man in a crisp crimson and black uniform, decorated with the Starfleet insignia and gold trim along the neck of the uniform.

"Admiral Brande!" Projectra exclaimed at the sight of her old friend. "You look wonderful, sir. What do we owe the honor?" Projectra smiled.

"Good to see you, lass," the Admiral said. "Flattery is it's own rewards. I am calling to inform you that Commander Ranzz will be picked up two hours ahead of schedule. I trust this will not interfere with your plans. It only means you'll need to up your arrival time at DS9."

"I don't see that to be a problem, sir." Projectra smiled. "Do you, Lt. Allon?"

"No, sir." Gim beamed. He was a very big fan of the Admiral. Gim had followed Brande's distinguished career through Starfleet ever since he had first heard of Brande. That had been on his first day at the Academy, when he was a cadet fresh from Mars Colony. He had first met the Admiral at a state dinner at the insistence of his mother.

"Excellent," Brande replied. He looked at the counselor and smiled broadly. "I am looking forward to having you aboard, Commander."

Ayla looked; at first, nonplussed until she noticed the rank that the Admiral had referred to her by. Her mouth came open to reply, but nothing came out.

"I was hoping, sir, to surprise the counselor within the next hour at the dinner in her honor." Projectra smiled with not even a side glance at the young woman.

"Oh, my," Admiral Brande said, somewhat embarrassed. "Mouthy old fool, aren't I?" He laughed.

"Not at all, sir."

"Congratulations, Ayla," Lt. Allon said, turning to face the counselor.

All the bridge officers stood from their stations and regarded her then. As a unified front, they broke into applause for the blushing young woman.

"I don't know what to say," Ayla said, her face beaming.

"That's a first," Lt. Digby smiled back.

"Any objections to leaving early, lass?" Admiral Brande asked as the officers returned to their stations and their duties.

"No, sir," Ayla said, smiling.

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you. Titan, out."

The screen returned to its previous view of stars streaking past them as the mighty ship went on its way.

"Thank you, Jecky," Ayla said to the Captain, who swept back a stray strand of hair from the neatly trimmed pageboy that complimented her soft face.

"You're welcome. However, we are still on duty. I would prefer a little less casualty."

"Certainly, captain," Ayla said, barely supressing a smile.

The turbolift door to the back left of the command semi-circle opened and the extremely handsome body of Captain Projectra's first officer was disgorged.

Commander Troy Stewart was a beautiful specimen of what the African Americans of Earth was. He was richly brown toned with sparkling blue eyes and a square jaw. Full lips parted as he breathed in a strong breath. Something about the air of the bridge, he thought, was different than any other part of the ship.

Even as he went to his place to the captain's right, he knew this was only his biased opinion. None of the filtered and processed air of the Enterprise was like any other, but somehow it felt different. It was somehow charged.

He pulled at the tunic he wore and arranged himself comfortably in his chair.

Projectra acknowledged his arrival with a smile. She noticed that his uniform was his usual choice. He chose not to wear the constricting jumpsuit of the others, but rather the short tunic-style that resembled, in the words of Commander Morgna, "a antiquated mini-skirt". Somehow, she thought, on anyone else, it would have looked exactly that way and somewhat out of place. But, she noticed, on Troy it beautifully displayed his diligently toned body.

"News, Commander Stewart?" Projectra asked, bringing herself back to the bridge and out of her fantasies. Even though she was the captain of this vessel, she was still a woman who could appreciate male beauty.

"None to speak of, Captain," he replied. He looked to the Counselor and smiled. "News, Counselor?"

Ayla blushed anew and smiled in return.

Commander Stewart acknowledged the fact that she must know already by the way she answered. He smiled warmly and extended his congratulations, which she thanked him for.

"Captain," Lt. Digby spoke up. "Incoming transmission."

"Source, Lt.?"

"Unknown."

"Unknown?" Projectra said, facing the ebony haired woman at Tactical.

"Explain."

"The signal is not clear. I think it's being transmitted from a very small vessel. Trying to lock in its location."

"Put the message on speaker."

The air crackled at first as the speaker system was engaged. "...terprise, damaged sy...trying to...tabalize..."

"Coordinates?" Projectra said, her voice both authoritative and worried.

"Almost." Lt. Digby said. "Trying to boost the receiving signal."

"...Core engines are finally online again...major...to the outer..."

"Coordinates?" Projectra said again.

"I have them."

"Bridge to Transporter Room four." Commander Stewart said.

"Lt. Wazzo here, sir," was the reply.

"Do you have the coordinates of the incoming message?"

"Affirmative."

"As soon as we are within range, lock on to any lifesigns and prepare to transport."

"Prepare tractor beam," Projectra said as the communication was ended.

"Prepared," Lt. Allon replied.

"Visual," the Captain said.

On the screen in front of them, a small shuttle appeared. From the look of it, it was a Runabout-style.

"The port nacelle seems to be damaged," Lt. Dawnstar said.

"Reduce speed, engage tractor beam," Projectra commanded.

"Captain," Lt. Allon spoke up. "It appears to be the shuttle, White Witch from the Amethyst."

Projectra stood and walked to stand between the Nav. and Con. stations. She put a hand on each station and felt her breath catch in her throat.

"That was your previous command, wasn't it, Captain?"

"Correct, Lt. Allon," the captain said, her voice a bit more shaky than it had been.

"Communications established, Captain," Lt. Digby said, finally.

"White Witch, this is Enterprise," Projectra said to the air. "Come in, White Witch. What is the nature of the distress call?"

"Jecky?" was the crackling response.

"Yes," Projectra said, unable to place the voice on the other end. "Who am I speaking with?"

"It's me, Krystyan."

Projectra smiled at the name. She returned to the command chair and sat down. "We're prepared to bring in the shuttle, Commander."

"Affirmative," was the response.

"Captain?" Commander Stewart turned to her and asked, obviously in the dark about the shuttle's inhabitant.

"You have the Con, Commander," she said, going to the turbolift. As the doors opened to admit her, a green-skinned man was exiting.

"Captain," he said, coolly.

"Lt. Cmdr. Dox," she said, continuing on her way.

As the doors closed, the green man went to the Science station at the back of the bridge. He was intent on the readouts and the displays.

"Brainy?" Commander Stewart said, turning toward the new arrival. The man winced inwardly at the affectionate term. He had gotten used to it after seven years with the crew. "Yes, Commander?" he responded without turning around.

"Do you know of anyone on the Amethyst named Krystyan?"

Dox did not pause from his work as he accessed his vast memory. In mere moments, he had recalled the information he had read of logs from the ship in question when the Captain was transferred from it to the Enterprise.

"Commander Krystyan Andrew Troi is a son of the Fifth House of Betazed, Holder of the Chalice of Reeks, and as his father before him, Heir to the Holy Rings. He is the son of Ian Andrew Troi, a native of Betazed and Breanna Ardeen, a native of Titan." He stopped to punch up a detailed map of Veridian IX before continuing. "His first name is a derivative of the 6th Century Irish surname, Christian. His middle name, a family name dating back to the 24th Century. Last name, a Betazed family name originating somewhere in the same chronometric vicinity."

Commander Stewart gave the counselor an understanding smile as she shifted in her chair and adjusted the fold of her dress. He was about to stop Dox when the Coluan continued.

"Both of his parents were high level telepaths on their respective worlds resulting in his own off-the-scale telepathy." As he punched up a ship schematic, a chronometric reading and the day's duty roster, he continued.

"Graduated as Salutatorian the same year as Captain Lucas Jackson Crusher of the Stargazer IV, Lt. Commander Dovenay Miles O'Brien, Commander Eric Benjamin Sisko, Lt. Elizabeth Deanna Riker and Lt.s Jean-Rene and Jean-Paul Picard."

Dox added the last computations on an energy graviton equation, punched in a response to a security request and recoded a miscoded entry in an engineering log and turned to face the Commander.

"Anything else?"

"I wonder what size underwear he wears?" Lt. Allon said sarcastically to himself. He liked the Coluan but he needed to learn brevity.

"Medium. Size 32 waist, 32 inseam, Lt.," was the cold response.

"Thank you, Dox." Commander Stewart said, acknowledging the science officer with a nod before turning to face the viewer. "Time to arrival at DS9?"

"Three hours, fifty four minutes, sir," Lt. Allon said, officially.

"Fifty three minutes, twenty seconds," Dox corrected.

Gim silently grimaced.

Troy Stewart smiled to himself and them at Ayla. He wondered if she thought the same thing about Queryl as he did at the same time. He doubted that the thoughts were exactly the same, but their tone was probably identical.

"I wonder if you might be related to the Betazed family?" Ayla said lightly.

"That is highly unlikely, Counselor," Dox said, coming to stand within a few feet of her. "Commander Stewart is descended from the Earth continent of United Africa. The Troi family originated with Ian Andrew Troi, a native of the British Colonies of Earth and L'Waxanna Troi of Betazed. I..."

"I was kidding, Brainy," Ayla said, stopping him.

"Of course," Dox replied sullenly.

"Poor Brainy," Lt. Digby said, looking up at the Coluan, who stood with his arms folded and his face somewhat fallen.

"I am totally unappreciated," Dox said to himself as he walked to the turbolift. As it opened, he stepped inside. "I should transfer to Praxis V where knowledge is just as useless as it is here but the inhabitants are smarter to begin with."

Lt. Dawnstar turned to Gim and gave him a look. She didn't need to voice her reprimand, she had already done that and it had done the same amount of good as it would have done then.

In the shuttlebay, Projectra greeted her old friend with a warm hug and a beaming smile.

"It has been forever!" the young blond said, the smile infectiously spreading to his face. "How are you, Captain?"

"Not as good as you, it seems," she said, stepping back to take in his form. "Working out, I see."

"Trying," he admitted, blushing at the attention.

"How is everything on the Amethyst?" she asked, heading to the door and indicating he follow. "Is Captain Nal still the same?"

"Well," Commander Troi began with a smile. "Her voice has deepened with command and her hair has taken on its normal shade of red."

With this last remark, Projectra stopped and looked into her friend's eyes and laughed as he did so too. "That's mean," she said, trying to be true to her convictions.

"No, that's truth. Why she ever chose that ivory color is beyond me. It did go with her incredibly pale skin, but it was eerie looking in a way."

"I don't know," Projectra said, heading into the corridor with him right beside her. "I thought she looked rather ethereal."

"Yeah, and?" he retorted. "All she needed was a few extra feet of hair, a long white robe and antenna and she would have been a vision."

As they chuckled to spite themselves, a brash young man in a mustard and black uniform and contrasting reddish-blond hair rounded the corner and almost collided with them.

"Oh, sorry," he said, stopping within inches of the pair.

"Lt. Cmdr. Morgna," Projectra said, indicating the man at her right. "This is Commander Troi, my former second in command."

Both men exchanged handshakes and greetings.

"I'm meeting a team down here to see what's wrong with your runabout," the engineer said with a slight smile. "Any ideas?"

"Nope," Commander Troi said, honestly. "I was enroute to intercept the Enterprise after departure from the Amethyst when about an hour into the trip, the engine cut out."

"Plasma coils?" the engineer volunteered.

"Not likely."

"Ratio mix?"

"Nope."

"Well," Commander Morgna said with determination. "We'll find out what it was."

"I have every confidence in you, Commander." Projectra said as he continued on his way.

"Well."

"He's very competent." Projectra said, answering the unasked question. "What were you doing out here? Where's the Amethyst?"

"Enroute to Vendra VII on a colonist extraction mission. I came here to see an old friend and ask a favor."

"I see," Projectra said, knowingly. "We are due shortly at a celebratory dinner and you're welcome to join us and afterwards we can discuss what it is you came here for."

"Agreed."

In the Ten Forward lounge of the Enterprise, the senior officers of the ship and several others gathered. They seated themselves at tables that offered a dazzling view of the stars that zipped by at warp speed.

Captain Projectra stood at the corner of the bar, engaged in a discussion of crew morale with the exotically skinned woman who was the proprietress of the lounge, Guinan. Guinan was more a fixture in the Ten Forward lounge more than the warp nacelles on the Enterprise. She had served with literally countless ships that bore the name, Enterprise and was quite proud of that fact.

Occasionally, she would recount tales of officers like the now retired Commodore Data, the vibrant Tasha Yar, the long line of Doctors Bashir that had served on two Enterpises and three of the Deep Space Stations and an occasional visit from the one who now spearheaded Starfleet Medical.

In short, Guinan was a veritable fountain of knowledge about virtually everything. On a fact basis, her knowledge rivaled that of Commander Dox.

In another corner of the lounge, the newly arrived Commander Troi was seated at a table with three other of the Enterprise staff and sampling a tray of delicately prepared Khundish entrees.

"Seriously," he said between bites. "There is nothing to tell. She really is like she appears."

"Are you telling me there are NO skeletons in Captain Projectra's command closet?" Lt. Allon said conspiratorially.

"Not in her command closet, no."

"Ahh," Lt. Nolan said, victoriously. He sipped his Bromian Ale and said, "Now we get the dirt."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Lt. Commander Troi said with a smile. "There is no dirt. Quite the contrary."

"What do you mean?" the third of the party, Ensign Sepht, spoke up.

"I mean, that the Captain is really a Princess and far from the kind that would accumulate 'dirt'." Commander Troi smiled and consumed another bite of his meal.

"Get out!" Gim said, leaning in closer. "A real Princess?"

"As in V'Ral, T'Pring, Diana?" Ensign Sepht said, recalling her history lessons.

"Exactly," Troi said, matter-of-factly.

"Why isn't it in the records?" Lt. Nolan prompted. "I haven't run across anything about it in her security files."

"Because she wanted it kept out of her files when she joined the Academy. She thought that if it were known that she was the daughter of the ruler of a Federation planet, that she might get special treatment because of it," Troi said, taking another bite before continuing. "So, when she was posted on the Dream Girl-"

"The Dream Girl is a pleasure ship!" Ensign Sepht said with a slight smile.

Lt. Andrew Nolan gave her a crazed sideways glance. His expression was incredulous. "Don't you read Starfleet directives regarding its ships? The Dream Girl is a cover ship. Its primary mission is espionage with the pleasure ship aspect as its cover."

"Very good," Lt. Troi said, washing down a bite of food. "The then-Lt. Cmdr. Projectra was an Intelligence Officer with Starfleet. After the Dream Girl's recommission, Projectra put in for a transfer. She was briefly transferred to-"

"The Enterprise," Ensign Sepht spoke up then. "Under Captain Krinn."

"Yes, Ensign." Troi smiled. "It was only temporary and she was posted to the Amethyst until the accident that killed Captain Krinn and Commander Ranzz."

"Wow," Gim Allon said, sitting back in his chair. "She certainly doesn't act like a Princess."

"Yeah," Ensign Sepht said. "She acts like a captain."

Andrew and Gim exchanged bewildered glances at this comment.

"Is it possible for you to be any spacier?" Andrew asked.

"I am NOT spacey!" she retorted.

"Right!" Gim replied. "Dr. Gym'll told us how you accidentally jabbed him and two other staff members with that hypo of Thalusian Fever!"

"Good thing the antidote was on board," Andrew said with a chuckle.

"Har, har," Drura Sepht said, sitting back in her chair with a sulking look on her face.

"Excuse me," Troi spoke up. "Who is that?"

He indicated the group of young men and a woman who had just entered the lounge and were making their way to the room's center and several tables situated there.

"The tall, stocky one with the brown hair," Gim began, "is the Zaldan head of Stellar Cartography, Thom Kallor."

"A Zaldan?" Troi said. "Wow."

"At-ti-TUDE!" Andrew remarked.

"C'mon, Drew," Gim said then. "You know that Zaldan's are just like that."

"Like what?" Drura asked, innocently.

"They abhor acts of courtesy," Troi said. "They see them as insincere and useless. They prefer to be direct, forceful and rude by most human standards."

"The other guy with the yellow-orange skin is Cham," Andrew said. "He's a Chameloid, you know, a shape-shifter."

"I thought they looked differently. Covered with fur," Drura said.

"How can you be a medical officer and have such a limited knowledge of races?" Andrew asked her.

"I don't know," she said honestly.

"The other guy with the headband is a Deltan. He's also an exobiologist. His name's Lyle Norg." Gim continued.

"The girl is Danielle Foccart, a recruit for the Academy. She's 'hitching a ride' to DS9," Andrew said, sipping his ale.

"Who's the other guy, the red-haired one?" Troi said, a tinge of something in his voice.

"That's Sean Erin. He's a Lt. in my department. He's the best marksman in Starfleet," Andrew continued.

Troi thought about it and recalled the very same words on Erin's file. He had thought to familiarize himself with the Enterprise crew roster before coming. There were a few he had missed, but most were at least vaguely familiar like Sean Erin.

At another table, Sean seated himself. He immediately became caught up in the discussion. As he talked, he thought he felt the eyes of someone on him but when he looked, he found no one or nothing untoward. Had he been a second quicker, he might have seen Troi smiling in his direction before the Commander left his table.

Ayla and Lt. Digby stood together in the quietest corner of Ten Forward but the noise still permeated their conversation.

"You know I won't be that far away," Ayla told the girl. "Don't be sad, Violet."

"Violet." The Lt. smiled at the name. "I remember when you gave me that kickname."

"NICKname, Violet," Ayla said with a smile. "That's NICKname. Earth slang is still hard for you, huh?"

"Yes," the girl said, smiling."

"As for the name," Ayla said. "Who could forget your proposal to Starfleet to have the security color code changed to violet 'as to be less conspicuous as security'?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Violet said.

"Only for a couple of months until the men started their protests," Ayla said, her smile becoming a laugh.

Violet brought a hand up to Ayla's cheek and was suddenly serious. "I will transfer as soon as I am eligible."

"I am counting the time. Six months, three days, fourteen hours, ten minutes," Ayla said, covering the younger woman's hand with her own and pressing it into her flesh.

"No seconds?" Violet asked, lightly.

Ayla leaned forward and kissed her lips slightly.

"I have something for you?" she said, leaning back and pulling something from the pocket of her dress.

"What is it?" Violet asked, clasping her hands together in excitement.

Ayla produced a black velvet box and handed it to Violet. With unsteady hands, Violet lifted the top from the black velvet container and was visibly taken aback. Her one hand flew to her mouth as the other fought to hold on to the box to spite the shaking. "It's beautiful," she managed to breathe.

Inside the box on a pillow of satin was a circle of pure gold. In the band's center on a raised dais of gold was a perfect amethyst teardrop amidst a circle of diamonds on a bed of crushed crystal. In an intricate pattern was woven a net of gold to hold it all in place.

"It's beautiful," Violet repeated as she removed it from the box and put it on her hand with a caution that said she thought it might fade away if she weren't careful.

"So are you," Ayla said. "Marry me, Violet."

"Oh, Ayla," Violet said with tears welling in her eyes. "Of course, I'll marry you."

The two women embraced and kissed after a long while. When the kiss was broken, Ayla said, "You know with my new assignment that I'm not going to have time to send the invitations."

"I can handle it," Violet said. "I just wish..." she began then stopped before she could complete the thought, as well as the sentence.

"That Garth could be here," Ayla said, finishing the sentence for her. "I do, too. I also wish Mekt were well enough to be here."

"So he hasn't recovered?" Violet said, apologetically.

"No. The doctors would be a lot closer to a cure if they could find out the origins of the lightning. He was 'charged' as a result of his missions to some unknown planet, as you know."

"The one in which he returned muttering about some empire?" Violet said.

"The very same. The T'Kraan or T'Kann Empire and some Guardian with a staff," Ayla said, sadly.

"Maybe some day." Violet said, her eyes lighting with a renewed hope.

Later, when everything and everyone had returned to everything and everywhere they were supposed to be, Captain Projectra and Commander Troi sat in the captain's Ready Room over steaming cups of tea.

"What is it you wanted to ask me, Krystyan?"

"With Counselor Ranzz leaving the Enterprise, I was hoping to fill the position." He said.

"Well," Projectra said. "You certainly don't waste any time getting to the point, do you?"

"Not if it's something I want."

"But what about the Amethyst? What about your rank? I already have a second in command and Starfleet will not bring Lt. Dox down in rank to accommodate you."

"I know that. I wouldn't be losing rank, only changing positions."

Projectra stood and went to the desk. She regarded him a moment before seating herself behind it. She steepled her fingers and looked at him again. "I'll have to clear it with Captain Nal."

"That's the part I didn't tell you," he said, repositioning himself. "I've already talked to her and she's agreed."

"That sounded too easy, Troi," Projectra said, the motherly tone creeping into her voice.

"Actually, she and I don't agree on the best way to command," Troi said, standing. "She has always been so..." here he grappled to find the word. "Emotional. I've no problem with that, but in a command situation, you have to balance it with intelligence and know-how."

"Starfleet must think she's up to the challenge or she wouldn't have the Amethyst."

"I'm not saying she isn't a good captain. I'm only saying that she and I don't see eye to eye on command."

"I have no objections, Krystyan. But, I want you to understand what you're doing."

"I do understand," Troi said. "I think I need to get more in touch with my emotional side and the reasons I became involved with Starfleet to begin with."

"And they are?"

"To help people, Jecky. I have always had the desire to help other people in some way that made sense. Counseling makes sense to me."

Captain Projectra seemed to consider the argument. After a long pause, she looked up and said, "I don't see why not."

"Great!" he said, literally bounding to his feet. "Thanks, Jecky."

"There's only one little detail I have to mention before I send my communique to Starfleet," Projectra said, standing.

"What?"

"I practice a little more formality on my ship than I think you're used to, Lt. Cmdr. Troi. When we are on duty, you will not refer to me as 'Jecky'. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, Captain Projectra," Troi said, standing.

Projectra headed for the door. "That's much better. Now, if you'll come with me, we're coming upon Deep Space 9."

Troi followed her to the bridge. As they cleared the Ready Room door, he heard a name he hadn't heard in years resound in his head and he visibly blushed. "Puppy."

Projectra stifled a grin as she seated herself in the command chair. Troi stood behind her and Commander Stewart seated himself at her right.

"Incoming DS9 communications, Captain," Lt. Digby said.

"On viewer, Lt."

The main view screen was suddenly filled with an authoritative visage. A man of thirty-something in a Bajoran security uniform glared at them. He had close-cropped chestnut hair and was darkly tanned. His naturally ridged nose seemed even moreso on his scowled countenance. A traditional Bajoran earring hung in his right ear on a rather lengthy chain.

Projectra noticed that his uniform was cut differently. It was cut lower in the front to reveal a hint of the massive expanse of his muscled chest and more than a hint of the dense hair that covered it. Obviously, as head of security, it was to his advantage to show his muscles but she couldn't help but think to herself there was a little bit of vanity there.

Just like there had been with Val.

Her mind briefly floated back to the brazen Japanese American she'd known briefly and who had met such a tragic end. In the short time she knew him, she had loved Val Armorr. As she stared at the man on the screen, she thought of how much in common these two might've have found if they'd only known one another.

"I am Security Chief Londo," the man said. As he spoke, Projectra saw that the tips of his canine teeth were slightly pointed. He seemed to see that she noticed this and smiled widely to expose them even more. "I am awaiting your counselor."

"We were under the impression that Chief Pakka would be the escort," Commander Troy said.

"Chief Pakka will be piloting the shuttle, yes. I am on hand at the moment to receive the counselor and to see to her accommodations."

As the security chief was about to say something else, an incredible commotion was heard in the background. He glanced around and when he returned his gaze to Projectra, he was positively ashen.

"KONO! PUT THAT BACK!" was heard in the background, followed by, "Xao and Pol pulled it out, I was trying to put it back!" This inspired several strings of derogatory slurs and name calling which escalated as they spoke.

"Is there a problem, Chief Londo?" Projectra asked, concerned.

Londo bared his teeth in a feral grin and said, "No, Enterprise." He ground his teeth together and continued. "Everything is normal...as it gets."

"KONO!" broke the verbal exchange. "The circuit board's overheating!" This was immediately followed by "I know that, Nass-breath! What do you think I was trying to do when Devlin pushed me!" Instantly, shouts of "I did NOT!" were countered with "DID SO, Festerclod!"

Projectra stood then and said again, "Are you sure we can't be of some assistance?"

"Unless you have a Khund disrupter handy," Chief Londo said, his voice and face giving no indication that he was joking in the least. Projectra took another step forward, the unmistakable hiss, crackle and boom of an overheated circuit panel filled the air behind Londo. Even with the auto sensory filters on the veiwscreen, she saw the bright glare followed by the thickly rolling gray smoke behind him.

"KONO!" came the familiar cry, as well. "Gripes, Krinn!" was one reply. "I didn't do anything!" was another. "I would've been able to put it back if Jenni wasn't so slow in giving it back!" was still another.

"Enterprise," Londo said, a loud crack sounding then. "We have a 'situation' here. We'll get back to you."

"Understood," Projectra said and returned to her chair as Commander Dox was taking young Danielle Foccart to the turbolift. The little scene they'd witnessed was the conclusion to the promised tour of the bridge and she was ready to leave. About going to the Academy on DS9, though, now she had her doubts.

"Captain," Gim Allon said, turning to face her. "What was that cracking sound?"

"The banister of the support railing the chief was standing against," Dox answered from the turbolift as the doors closed.

A collective gulp was heard as the realization of what that meant sank in.

"DS9 to Enterprise," came another voice several long moments later.

"On viewer," Projectra prompted.

This time, the viewer displayed an overall view of the command ring. A blonde woman stood in the center, her hair pulled into a severe ponytail. Behind her, his hair also in a ponytail was a brunette man. Both wore Starfleet uniforms of crimson and black.

Behind them, monitoring the Ops console was still another woman in a Bajoran uniform. Odd was not the long earring she wore in her right ear, nor the soft ridges of her nose but the elaborate style of her hair. Wound around and around at least three times were three thick braids. From them, the rest of her braided hair emerged. As she turned to check the panel to the back of her, Projectra noticed the last braid hung to just above the calf region of her leg.

"Enterprise, I am Commander Ardeen. I am sorry I was not able to greet you personally. I was attending to some other business."

"Quite understandable, Commander," Projectra said with a smile. A smile that was unreturned as Commander Ardeen continued.

"We have received the Commander and the child. Chief Pakka has readied the shuttle and will leave inside the next fifteen minutes."

"Thank you," Projectra said.

"You are clear for departure. DS9, out."

Following this abrupt end of communications, the screen went blank to be replaced by the exterior view of the docking ring and the moorings that held the Enterprise in place.

"Charming," Gim said. "Date much?"

"Not since the death of her fiancé...Commander Garth Ranzz," Dawnstar said, her voice in a strict monotone.

"You do seem to have a chronic case of 'foot in mouth' disease, Lt. Allon," Commander Stewart commented.

"Speaking of which," Projectra said. "Your own shuttle will be departing within the hour. Since you didn't arrange for your station to be filled, perhaps you'd let Commander Troi take your station and transport down to DS9?"

Gim brightened. Shore leave! He was on the first transport to Risa and couldn't wait. He'd been packed for weeks and couldn't believe he'd forgotten. Commander Troi slid into his seat as Gim headed for the turbolift.

"Captain to Transporter room four."

"Lt. Wazzo, here," was the electronic reply.

"Lt., has Lt. Allon's replacement arrived yet?"

"Yes, Captain. Lt. Burroughs has arrived and is on his way to report to you. He said something about stopping by sickbay."

"Sickbay?" Projectra asked, puzzled.

"Yes. Something about transporters making him sick."

Projectra could tell that the Lt. Wazzo was smiling when she finished the sentence. Projectra could see why. The idea of transporter sickness was a bit funny considering all of the technological wonders and advancements made in recent years.

"Who is...?" Commander Stewart started. He began to swivel in his chair and scan the room.

"What are you doing?" the Captain said.

"I was looking for Dox before asking who Lt. Burroughs was."

The Captain was dumbfounded but a chuckle was heard from Tactical and another from Ops. Before she could form a question or give an answer, the turbolift doors opened and a handsome man in a mustard and black tunic stepped out. He took in the bridge rather awestruck manner, at first. When he found his tongue, he stood at attention.

"Lt. Drake Burroughs, sir. Permission to come aboard."

"Granted, Lt.," Commander Stewart said, standing. "This is our Weapons officer, Lt. Digby. At Navigational, Commander Troi and at Ops, Lt. Dawnstar."

Troi relinquished the seat and as Lt. Burroughs replaced him, he caught the barely perceptible exchange between the two Lts. He recognized it, instantly and smiled at it. He remembered a certain red-haired security Lt. and couldn't fault either of them for being distracted by beauty.

Gim Allon stepped onto the transporter pad in transporter room four. He slung his duffel over his shoulder and Lt. Tinya Wazzo smiled at him.

"What do you need clothes for on Risa?" she said teasingly.

"Ah..." he stammered, not really knowing. He didn't have an answer and already his mind was formulating all the things he could do there that didn't require clothes.

"Energizing," Lt. Wazzo said.

Instantly, Gim Allon's body was dematerialized. His pattern was cycled once through the pattern buffer of the Enterprise transporter. It was cycled through the pattern buffer of DS9 and Gim Allon and his duffel bag appeared smiling and whole on the DS9 transporter platform. Wazzo was about to leave when she noticed a spark on the transporter pad. "Odd," She said. "Computer, run a diagnostic on Transporter pad four."

After a few moments, the computer responded with: "Diagnostic complete."

"Any problems or anomalies?"

"Negative."

She stepped up on the platform and looked around. She saw nothing, that was clear but she knew she had seen something before that was just as clear. As she started to step off, the entire platform exploded in a shower of sparks and small explosions.

Several of the circuit panels cracked and sizzled with sudden heat, as well. Then, suddenly, a massive energy wave washed over her and she was knocked to the floor of the platform. Above her, another explosion erupted as the ship's sensors registered it and triggered the fire suppression systems.

She looked around her and saw the spray of the coolant. She saw it puddling on the floor around her. As she stared at her hands and the dying flames, she saw that the liquid was not covering her body, as it was the flaming metal. Through her hand, through her arm, she could see the liquid puddling on the floor. The liquid was passing through her!

At that moment, the captain's voice broke through the spray of the coolant and the sizzling of the metal. "...in, Transporter Room! What's going on, down there?" Tinya tried to tap her communicator and, to her horror, her hand passed through her own chest.

The doors to the transporter room slid open and a trio of security men were inside in minutes. They scanned the debris and readjusted the coolant spray from the transporter console. In moments, the fire was out.

"Thank the forces you showed up!" Tinya breathed.

"Lt.?" said one of the men as he peered through the wreckage. "Lt.?" he said, again.

"Yes, I'm here," Tinya said, her voice starting to crack as she started to panic. "I'm here."

"Lt. Erin?" the Captain's voice came over the intercom. "What's going on down there?"

"The fire's been put out, but..."

"But, what?"

"But, there's no trace of Lt. Wazzo, sir."

"But I'm here!" Tinya screamed, leaving the mess of the transporter pad and waving her arms frantically. The security detail left the room and Tinya couldn't stop them. Sean turned as he was about to leave the room, as if he saw her, but then left the room without a word.

In the Conference room of the Enterprise, the bridge crew sat around the table. Dox and the security team joined them. "Report," Projectra said.

"The transporter room has been irradiated and the transporter log is being checked again to see if Lt. Wazzo could have transported to the station," Commander Morgna said.

"The reason for the accident in the first place?" Commander Stewart asked.

"Unknown, sir." Lt. McCauley said then. "We are running multiple diagnostics on the transporter power grids. It could take a while."

"Were there any anomalous readings?" Projectra asked.

"Only a 6.2 increase in chroniton particles," Dox spoke up, then. "They have been reduced to normal using an anyon beam."

"What would cause that?" Commander Stewart asked.

"Several things, sir. An unbalanced Dominator cloaking field, an unbalanced warp field bleeder, a-"

"Alright, Brainy," Troi said. "Let me rephrase. What things here could cause them?"

"Unknown," Dox said, flatly.

"Keep at it, Dox," Projectra said. "I want to know in two hours."

"Captain, incoming message from Federation President Allon."

"Put it through down here, Lt."

On a screen behind the Captain, which Projectra turned to face, the soft-featured face of United Federation of Planets, Marte Allon, appeared.

"Madame President." Projectra acknowledged.

"Captain. I am to understand there has been an accident on board the Enterprise."

Projectra winced. The report of the accident had made it to Starfleet with the last communique. What horrible luck, she thought to herself. "Yes, ma'am."

"And my son," President Allon said, making her inquiry a fact rather than a question.

"Is safe on a shuttle to Risa. We have received confirmation only moments ago."

"Do keep me informed, Captain."

"Of course, Madame President." Projectra said as the screen went blank. As she faced the assembled officers, she contemplated their situation. She didn't really know what they were going to do, now. It was only luck that Lt. Allon hadn't been caught in that same accident. If that had happened, there would be no hearing the end of it. His mother had harassed every Captain under whom Gim Allon served if there was the slightest knick or scrape on her son. Truth be told, her son could take care of himself better than most people she knew. If only his mother would learn that.

"So," she said, at length. "I am to assume that Lt. Wazzo is..."

"Dead, sir," Dox said, flatly and without emotion.

"Conclusively so, Commander?" Commander Troi, who had up until this moment been silent.

"Absolutely."

Troi shifted slightly at the answer and the slightest grimace twisted his features for the slightest of moments. Projectra happened to catch it but filed it away for future reference.

"A memorial service will take place in an hour. Lt. Digby, I want you to contact DS9 and inform Lt. Cmdr. Nah. Invite him to attend. Also, inform Commander Ardeen that we will be staying only for the duration of the ceremony."

"Aye, sir," Violet said.

"I want the updates on your findings as soon as possible, Dox," Projectra said, fixing him with a gaze. "Commander Troi, I'd like for you to stay, all of the others, you are dismissed."

As the officers filed from the room, Troi stayed behind. "What is it?" Projectra asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, knowing instantly what she was referring to. "I thought for a moment that I felt something. I'm not sure what. I could scan the ship, if you'd like."

"Not right now. If this occurs again, you have my permission to do so."

"Certainly," Troi said.

Queryl Dox stood before the science station and reread the readings. For some reason, they just could not be right. There was no way that something like chroniton particles could be recurring at this rate. Everywhere they had appeared, he had run an anyon beam to irradiate them. "Fascinating," he whispered.

"What?" Dirk Morgna said as he punched in his own equations to a problem he'd been working on.

"I cannot find the source of the chroniton particle emissions. They appear to be random, but then the appearance of them is illogical to begin with."

Lt. Morgna punched up the readings on his terminal. After a few moments, he turned to the Coluian. "Brainy, they're coming from Tinya's quarters."

"Yes," was the only reply.

"Well, let's check there."

"Check? For what would we be checking?" Dox said, looking at the man fully.

"I don't know," Morgna replied.

"Odd," Dox said after a moment's confirmation with his terminal.

"Me?" Morgna questioned uncertainly.

"Aside from you," Dox said, monotonously. "I have scanned the memorial service and there are an abnormally high concentration of chronitron particle there. As if they are emanating from there."

"So, let's flood Ten Forward with a maximum anyon beam," Morgna said.

"I don't see what that will accomplish."

"What can it hurt?" Morgna punched up the command code and fed the equations for the beam into the computer. With everything configured, he pressed the execute button.

Projectra finished the eulogy and stepped from the podium. She went to stand with Commander Troi, who was in process of mentally scanning the drive section of the ship. He had said nothing to anyone, but she knew the look of concentration on his face. Jo Nah stood at the table that had been converted into a memorial. He looked lovingly at the pictures of the young girl as an Academy cadet, as an ensign on the Apparition where she'd gotten her first post, and her last promotion celebration at her family's home. He had meant to ask her to join him on the station, but like so many things he had meant to do, he hadn't gotten around to it. He put a hand to his forehead and started to sob.

"I failed you, Tinya," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't blame you," Tinya said, her incorporeal body right in front of him. "I love you, Jo. I just wasn't ready to leave the Enterprise."

Around them, the rest of the officers had melded into their own smaller groups and were discussing the fallen Lt.

"Captain," Troi breathed quietly to Projectra, who turned to face him. "She's here."

"Tinya?"

"Yes. I can read her thought patterns, but only barely. I can't get specific thoughts, but emotions. Almost as if she were in some sort of phase or phantom form."

"What can we do?"

"I don't know," Troi said.

"LOOK!" Sean Erin said, pointing to the memorial table and Jo. Officers' eyes turned to the direction Sean was pointing. They all gasped in astonishment as the form of Tinya Wazzo began to materialize literally from nowhere. She had only just put her hand out to touch Jo's face. As she began to solidify, her hand grazed his cheek, causing him to look up.

For Jo, it was like a dream he was stepping out of. He was looking, at first through the haze of tears. Now, as the tears fell and he was looking at her smiling face, they were tears of joy. "Tinya?" he breathed incredulously.

"JO!" she said in disbelief. "You can see me?"

"Yes!" he said, taking her into his arms. "And it's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen!"

Dawnstar rechecked the instrument panel on the shuttle. She ran the system diagnostic through the ship's main computer and was waiting for the reply when the shuttle bay doors opened and Lt. Drake Burroughs waltzed in.

She afforded the brash Lt. a quick glance. She had to admit he was handsome. The way he walked communicated his self-assured attitude and his overzealousness perfectly. Each stride was not the measured ones of most officers but rather the "fall where they may" ones of a rogue.

"And what, pray tell, are you doing here?" Dawnstar said with a half-smile.

"I'm going with you," he said, propping himself in the door of the shuttle.

"You must be kidding."

"Nope. Just now got clearance from the cap. As soon as we leave DS9 and have gotten to the Bevari Nebula, I am to accompany you," he said with another brilliant and captivating smile.

"Do tell."

Before she could say anything else, the computer console beeped and confirmed shuttle readiness. She punched in her authorization codes and left the cockpit. As she walked to the door, Drake followed.

"Bridge?" he said.

"No. I have two hours of off time before we reach the Nebula and I am going to have my dinner," she replied between her smiling lips, not missing a step on her way to the turbolift.

"Care if I go along?"

Dawnstar looked at him as they cleared the turbolift door and it whished shut behind them. She thought to herself as she did so that he wasn't that bad looking. Strawberry blond hair with streaks of gold highlights, sapphire eyes that caught even the slightest of light and magnified it and an even smile that encouraged one to smile just by looking at it. There was his body, she thought. Through his uniform, she saw every muscle and every one was toned and perfect. Even his leg muscles caused the legs of his uniform to conform to them. Many hours in the gym, she thought.

"Sure," she finally replied. "I don't suppose that I mind."

"You certainly won't mind once we get there."

As the lift continued, Dawnstar wasn't sure she knew what he meant but for some reason was intrigued enough to find out.

Upon reaching the bridge, Commanders Stewart and Troi sat in their respective chairs as Captain Projectra entered from her Ready Room and took hers.

"Well, I have quite a few confirmations," she said with a smile. "Lt. Allon is safely on Risa, Commander Ranzz has arrived aboard the Titan, and I am pleased to announce that Commander Troi is our new ship's counselor." "Great," Troi said with a smile.

"You won't think so later today when it's time for crew evaluations." Stewart smiled.

"Also," Projectra continued. "Lt. Wazzo has decided to remain with the Commander on DS9 for an extended...maternity leave."

"That's wonderful, a baby," Lt. Digby said from her station.

"Commander Nah works quickly." Stewart grinned. "It was exactly three months ago since they were on shore leave."

"Yes, well," Projectra said. "Ensign Schend, set course for the Bevari Nebula, warp factor 5."

Erin stood poised at the ready when the force troop of Dominators emerged from their hiding place. They came from behind the rubble of the ruined temple, the surrounding shrubbery and seemingly from the air. Altogether, they numbered seven. Erin's hands were a seeming blur. He turned toward a duo and fired his phaser, two Dominators fell. He whirled on another trio, fired, and the trio fell. As he was turning again, a disrupter blast exploded the wall behind him and he hit the ground in a roll.

Getting up quickly, he fired another shot and took out the initiator of the nearly lethal blast. Also, as he got to his feet, he took aim at what was to be the last of the crew. Before he could fire, a blast came from behind him and the last of the Dominators collapsed in a heap. Sean turned to see the form of Commander Troi walking toward him. The Lt. smiled and gave him a thankful salute with his phaser.

"Commander," he said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Nice shooting, Lt....uh,"

"Erin."

"Erin, of course," Troi said, knowingly. "I..."

"Just wanted me to say it," Sean finished the sentence for him. "Computer, end program."

The dense forest and ruined temple were gone in an instant and replaced with the familiar yellow and black grid of the holodeck.

"I thought I was the telepath," Troi smiled.

"I knew you were a telepath, so I knew that my last name was no mystery. Even if you did forget, you could recall it from me," Sean said, going to the holodeck arch.

"Wait," Troi said, stopping the red haired officer. "Computer."

"Working."

"Are the holdeck programs from my personal files programmed in the main system, yet?"

"Troi files one through fourteen have been programmed into main computer."

"Computer, run program Troi six." The grid was replaced with a rocky landscape. A dirt path originated only a few feet from where the two men stood. On each side, small green bushes and ferns grew.

"Shall we?" Troi said, indicating the path.

"Why not?" Sean said and took the lead. "Where are we going?"

"I want to show you something." They walked, the growth of plant life increased. Soon, the path was taking them through a jungle, tall trees towered over them and lush plants and colorful flowers surrounded them.

"You graduated with some pretty interesting people, didn't you?" Sean said as they rounded a bend in the path.

"I suppose so," Troi said.

"You suppose so? With names like Sisko, Riker and especially Picard?"

"I suppose so." Troi smiled.

"Those names are as legendary in Starfleet as Kirk, McCoy, Uhura, Chekov and many more," Sean said. "Especially, Picard. I never thought I'd read about any after that accident with his family in the 24th century."

"What do you mean?" Troi said, looking to the young man as they walked.

"Well, then Enterprise captain, Jean-Luc Picard lost his only brother and nephew in a fire. He thought he would have no more members of the family to carry on his name. But, his sister-in-law, Marie was pregnant with triplets. She gave birth to three boys who carried on the name."

"Well, it must be hereditary," Troi said. "The Picard boys in my class were twins. Quite bright and highly motivated."

"You seem to be, too," Sean said. "You have a pretty famous name, too."

"Yes, my father's told me of my ancestor, Ian Troi that married L'Waxanna Troi," Troi said, stepping carefully around a loose set of rocks in the path. "He has told me several times of his father's father's father's great, great, great, great grandfather."

Sean smiled as he followed Troi. "Sounds confusing."

"It can get that way, but the Troi family line is diligently recorded on Betazed as a way of keeping tabs on the bearer of the clay pot." Troi continued on over another small rock pile.

"Clay pot?" Sean asked, thinking to himself that he'd missed that piece of information, somehow.

"The Chalice of Reeks." Troi smiled. "It's a dusty clay pot I keep in a box in my closet on Betazed."

Both men laughed aloud as they cleared a dense patch of trees."You have very strong ties with the Riker family, don't you?" Sean asked.

"Yes. Deanna and I have been friends since before the Academy. She's named after an ancestor of my family, too. Ian's daughter was named Deanna."

"I know," Sean admitted as they rounded a corner and were topping a small hill.

Troi pushed past Sean and through a clump of trees. He put his hand out and pulled Sean up the small incline. As Sean cleared the foliage and got his bearings, he saw the most spectacular sight. In front of them, an enormous river roared over the crags of a rocky mountain that towered into the air. The water exploded over the edge and plummeted in a sparkling sheet of liquid crystal-like blue. Rainbow archs of light littered the basin as the spray of water washed over the rocks and caught the sunlight.

"Janaran Falls," Sean breathed.

"How did you know?" Troi asked, his voice dripping with surprise. "Have you been here, before?"

"No," Sean said, simply. "I've never been to Betazed, although I've always wanted to go."

"Tell me, Lt.," Troi started. "How it is that you know so much about my family, me and Betazed."

"You aren't the only one who can read, Commander," Sean said with a smile. "Or, with an interest in other crew members."

The last statement was added before he dropped his head briefly before taking in the Falls' wonder again.

Troi stepped to him and caught his chin in his hand. He brought the boy's face up and gazed into the twin emeralds that peered back. With his other hand, he brushed the stray locks of red hair from Sean's forehead. He smiled at the young man, who smiled back.

"Well," Sean said, "Are you going to kiss me, or not?"

Stewart stood before the small group who stood before him. He consulted a small pad and entered in a few final notes. As it was processed, he turned to face the group.

"When I give you your assignments, please try and commit them to memory. This will save time for both you and your department heads. If you are like me, however, and you get confused, just refresh yourself with the computer's duty roster."

A collective nod from the group prompted him to move on. "Ensigns Bierbaum, your transfer to Engineering came through, you may report to Lt. Cmdr. Morgna at the start of the next shift."

A young boy and girl, easily in the their mid-twenties, acknowledged rather quickly. Troy smiled at their enthusiasm. It was a good thing to have on the Enterprise.

"Ensigns Earnhardt and Becker-Chambless, report to Lt. Cmdr. Kallor." A young boy in his early twenties and a girl of the same age voiced their acknowledgement, as well. Before he could continue, however, the intercom voice of the Captain interrupted him.

"Commander Stewart, report to the bridge."

"On my way," Troy said, handing the PADD to the woman at his side. "Lt. O'Brien, carry on, please."

"Aye, sir," M'iko O'Brien said, taking the PADD and facing the group. "Lt. Schoonover and Lt. Johnson, you are to report to Lt. Arlik, as are Lts. Turner and Brink."

Stewart smiled as he cleared the doors. They would all make great officers, one day. Their desire to advance in their fields and not be content with just doing a job was proof of this. Already, several of them were up for promotions within the next year.

He reached the turbolift and was joined by Lt. McCauley. She had just cleared the doors as they closed behind her. "Sir, the reports of the earlier mishap have concluded. Apparently, there was an unaccounted for surge in the containment beam when it cycled Lt. Allon's pattern through the buffer."

"A power surge? That's what overloaded the transporter?" Troy said.

"Not just a power surge," Celeste continued, as did the lift. "Lt. Allon's pattern was tripled on its first cycle as he left the Enterprise and then tripled again when it initially cycled through the transporter on DS9."

"If that's true Lt.," Troy said his face visibly awestruck. "He would have materialized as a 30 ft giant."

"Technically, yes," she said, smiling at the visual image of Gim Allon a 30-ft giant. "But, the reading was faulty. The transporter reading was temporarily cross-connected with the sensor array."

Stewart was clearly confused. Never in his entire Starfleet career had he even heard of such a thing. He wasn't even sure it was possible.

"In simple terms, sir, the sensory readings were directed through the transporter terminal and in turn through the transporter pad. It was like trying to bring DS9 to the Enterprise transporter pad."

"And that was the cause of the overload."

"Exactly." Celeste smiled.

But what had the Enterprise sensors locked onto that was that large, or larger?"

"That's still a mystery."

The turbolift reached the bridge and the two emerged. Stewart went to his chair and Celeste to an Engineering station at the back of the bridge.

"Have Lt. Dawnstar and Lt. Burroughs left for the Nebula?" he asked as he adjusted his terminal to his right.

"Just now, sir," Ensign Addlesse said.

"How long will this take?" Projectra asked.

"About three hours, sir," Ensign Lockwood said from the Ops station.

"So, we hurry and wait." Stewart smiled at Projectra, who smiled back.

In the shuttle, Wildfire, Dawnstar set the controls to automatic and went to the aft part to begin analyzing the data they were collecting via the sensors. Burroughs followed her.

"You handle this bird pretty good, Dawny," he said, leaning again.

"Dawnstar," she said simply.

"Huh?"

"My name is not 'Dawny', it's Dawnstar," she said, letting him see that her attention was fully on the instrument panel she was working on. Even if it wasn't. Even if her gaze was misdirected to his reflection in the shiny surface of the panel.

"Sure. Sorry," he said. "Y'Know, I'm a pretty decent pilot, myself."

"Really?" she said, her voice feigning disinterest. "I didn't know that."

"Sure. I was the one who perfected the Kolvoord Starburst."

"The one that has been banned for centuries that every Starfleet cadet has secretly wanted to perform?" Dawnstar said, her fingers dancing over the sensor panel.

"That's the one," he said, proudly.

Dawnstar activated the collection panel on the port side of the sensor array and returned to the instrument panel. She made a quick course adjustment and began to assemble the report to the Enterprise. When Burroughs slid into the seat beside her, she looked up.

"That's a very dangerous maneuver, you understand."

"Yes. But not for a skilled pilot."

"Many young cadets have tried it and many have paid with their lives," she said gravely. "Cadet first class, Eric Henrickson in the latter 29th century, Cadet Shonna Linaz in the early 28th century, Cadet Joshua Albert in the latter 24th century."

"Those guys were dead before we were born, though," Burroughs said, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know anyone who died in your lifetime that attempted it?"

"Actually, I do," she said, sadly and turning to look out of the veiwscreen. "Ensign Brek Bannin attempted it in a shuttlecraft on his return from Saturn to rendezvous with the Enterprise."

"Bannin? I remember him. He was a loose screw from the get-go. He doesn't count."

Dawnstar turned to the young officer. She searched his face and found nothing. "But he was still a person, Drake."

Before he could say anything, the space in front of the small shuttle began to shimmer and distort. Stars dissolved and the very fabric of space twisted.

"What's that?" Drake said, settling into his chair. "Instruments are reading that it's a-"

"-Dominator Warbird, sir!" Ensign Addlesse shouted from his station.

"Evasive maneuver, ensign!" Commander Stewart barked, gripping the arms of his chair. "The shuttle. Can we get a tractor beam around it?"

"Negative," Ensign Lockwood said. "The Warbird is blocking the shuttle from us."

"Try and raise the shuttle," Troy said.

"We can't establish a link," Violet said from her panel.

"Hail the Warbird, Lt.," Projectra said, standing.

Violet complied as quickly as she could. Her fingers flashed over her console even as her mind fought to steady them. She wished for the same calm that everyone else seemed to exhibit. "Channel open, sir," she said.

"Imperial Warbird, this is the Federation Starship Enterprise. State your purpose in this flagrant violation of the Federation Dominator treaty," Projectra said.

The viewscreen filled with a yellow oval that was to be the being's head. A huge scarlet disc was centered at its forehead, signifying its rank and races. It had only two eyes and a massive double row of needle-like teeth that parted slightly as it spoke in a reptilian manner. "We have witnessssed your aggresssssion, Enterprisssse," it said. "We will deal with you accordingly."

"Aggression, sir?" Commander Stewart said.

"Do not feign ignoransssse, human," The Dominator said.

"Captain, they are powering their forward disrupter array," Violet said. "They've targeted the Enterprise, sir."

"Shields!" Projectra shouted and fell back into her chair. The viewscreen reverted to the outer view of the Dominator Warbird. A ball of green energy began to coalesce from its front. As it reached the desired mass, it was hurled toward the Enterprise. The bridge crew, as well as, the rest of the Enterprise was jolted almost from their seats as the blast hit the shields.

"Target that ship, Lt. Full torpedo spread!" Projectra ordered.

A group of eight red flares were disgorged from the Enterprise and hit several points along the surface of the greater ship. They dissipated, as they were absorbed into the Warbird shields.

"No damage to the Warbird, sir," Violet said from Tactical.

"What are you doing!" Dawnstar yelled.

"Getting us the hell out of here!" Burroughs yelled back.

"But you're heading straight for the Warbird!"

"I know what I'm doing!"

Dawnstar braced herself as the Wildfire headed for the giant battlecruiser.

The small craft hit the invisible shields of the Dominator Warbird and slid along them for a few yards before skidding off and veering toward the Enterprise. Drake Burroughs punched in the command for ignition restart as the engines groaned their protests.

"You used our shields to ricochet us off the Warbird's shields," Dawnstar said stunned.

"I knew our impulse engines wouldn't get us within range in time," he said.

"Range of what?" Dawnstar asked, her mind not registering the meaning of his words.

They had signaled the Enterprise and he silently wished they had gotten the signal. As he was rerouting power, the console to his left exploded in a violent spray of fire.

"OH, GODS!" Dawnstar screamed as the console in front of her followed suit. "The engines can't take the stress! It's a cascade systems overload!"

Dawnstar was thrown back from her chair as the last section of the drive console erupted. She looked back to see the section in front of Drake burning and sparking. She called to him, but he was trying valiantly to save them and couldn't return her gaze.

"Transporter room," Projectra said. "You're only going to have six seconds to get them over here!"

"I can get them in five, sir!" Chief Parrett returned.

"Lt. Digby, you heard me. Six seconds only. Ready, transporter room?"

"Ready, sir."

"Lt.?"

"Ready, sir," Violet said, her hands miraculously steady as she surveyed her console.

"Drop shields!" Projectra yelled, standing. "Energize, Chief Parrett!"

Dawnstar felt the heat surrounding her as the cabin of the Wildfire erupted into its namesake. She put her arm to her face to shield it from the heat. She called out Drake's name as she felt the transporter effect take hold of her.

"DRAAAAAKE!"

"Transporter room!" Projectra yelled into the intercom system. "Talk to me!"

"I could only get one, sir. The radiation from the system overload was too strong to get Lt. Burrough's clear signal."

Just as the transporter chief finished his report, the Wildfire exploded completely on the view screen. Shards of metal flew toward and bounced off the forward shields of the Enterprise.

"Just a few more feet and they would have made it!" Commander Stewart said.

"Captain, the Warbird is firing! Shields maintained and holding," Lt. Digby said.

She's stating the obvious, Projectra thought as she stood again. It wasn't like her to keep sitting and standing but the situation had deteriorated and nothing was as it usually was. "Evasive maneuvers, Lt. Get us some distance!" she said, facing Violet.

The Enterprise moved back. The Warbird closed the gap almost instantly, Violet reported. The Enterprise was pummeled again with a violent phaser spread.

"Return fire!"

Photon torpedoes were useless. They were instantly absorbed. Violet didn't wait for the order and fired phasers at full power but to no avail. Again and again, she fired and every time the act was a failure.

"Counselor Troi to the bridge!" Projectra shouted.

"Aft shields down to 55 percent, Captain."

"Helm," Commander Stewart barked. "We need a tactical advantage and we need it now!"

The helm officer tried to comply. The coordinates were fed into the computer and executed instantly but the Warbird countered every move. It seemed to be anticipating every one, the wary ensign thought. The turbolift doors opened and Commander Dox, Lt. Cmdr. Morgna and Lt. Dawnstar emerged. Immediately, they attended their stations. The Helm ensign was washed with relief as Dawnstar slid into her position and he thankfully took an aft position.

"Can we go to warp?" Stewart asked, evenly.

"Interference from the Nebula prevents us from generating a sufficient warp status, sir," Dawnstar reported. "But there are other ways of evasion."

On the veiwscreen, the motion was nauseating. The stars banked hard to the left and seemed to drag for a moment before they continued in their path. The Warbird tried to copy the maneuver and was too slow. In the instant it took to recover, the Enterprise was repositioned and a beam of phaser energy tore across its left flank.

"Shield damage," Lt. Digby said. "Minimal."

"But still damage, Lt," Projectra said. "Helm, repeat maneuver on course 335.6 and then hard to starboard."

The Enterprise was like a diving falcon. As it grazed the turning Warbird, phasers once again peeled its shields. The giant ship recovered a little more quickly this time and returned fire.

The aft security grid exploded in a violent eruption. Commander Dox turned to see the body of Lt. Cmdr. Morgna consumed by the horrible wash of flame. The officer's body was a flaming torch as the boy howled in pain. Krystyan Troi had just emerged from the turbolift and grabbed the boy's body, forcing them both to the deck. The bridge's fire suppression system engaged and covered them both in the flame retardant. From inside the foam, Dirk groaned. Troi looked down and saw the boy's lips part slightly. Miraculously, Dirk had managed to shield his face for the most part and had saved the majority of it.

"You're going to be fine," Troi said.

"Troi to Transporter Room, beam Lt. Morgna directly to sickbay."

As he stood from the body, Dirk's body dematerialized. Troi scanned Projectra's mind and then relayed the wanted information to Dox, whose hands were a blur as he computed the relayed information. He didn't waste time questioning the source of the information, as most humans would have done. The ship shook. This time, the aft engineering station detonated, throwing Ensign Lockwood to the floor.

"Lt. Digby," Commander Dox shouted. "Target these coordinates and lay in spread of continuous fire!"

In the briefest of seconds, she looked to the captain and seeing the confirmation she needed to find there, she complied.

"Lt. Dawnstar, keep a course that will give us the angle we need for multiple shots," Projectra said.

On the view screen, the Enterprise was bearing on the Warbird the same way an eagle bears down on a fleeing rodent prey. Phasers ripped along the weakened shield barrier, tearing at the invisible confines of energy. Again and again until the last volley penetrated the shields and tore into the hull of the Warbird.

"Photon torpedoes, Lt," Commander Stewart ordered then.

"Maximum spread!" Projectra added.

"Aye, sir, maximum spread," Violet complied, her voice oddly even and steady.

On the viewscreen, eight flaring stars hit the Warbird. This time, not like the previous attempts, they penetrated the hull of the Dominator's warship and seconds later, the Warbird cracked and splintered into thousands of glittering fragments. A few of the pieces of the obliterated Warbird struck the Enterprise and Projectra inwardly winced although she knew they could not hit her. She returned to her command chair and sat down, wearily.

"Repair crews dispatched to decks 14, 23, 25, and of course, the bridge, sir," Violet said.

"Thank you, Lt.," Projectra said.

Ten Forward had seen a lot of traffic in the last few days and Guinan was glad. She stood behind the bar and surveyed her lounge at this moment. The captain had ordered "down time" for all ship personnel who could take advantage of it and those who didn't go to the holodeck were coming here. It was filling up rather quickly.

Projectra sat a window table with her first officer and Ensign Addlesse who had filled in for Lt. Allon. Not long after, Dawnstar, Ensign Sepht, and Lt. McCauley joined them. No doubt, Guinan thought, McCauley was filling the captain in on the findings that the Dominator's cloaked ship was the "something" the misguided sensors had read in the earlier transporter accident.

"However," Guinan heard her say. "The source of the cross connection mistake is still not fully understood."

At another window boothed table, several of the Engineering staff along with Lt. Norg and Lt. Arlik were talking to Lt. Morgna, whose burns weren't half as bad as first expected due to several factors. One, he'd been standing far enough from the console not to get the brunt of the blast and what he did get, had mostly caught his uniform aflame, and finally the ship's fire suppression was quick enough to extinguish the flames altogether.

Even from where she was, Guinan could see the pinkish flesh of his face and hands was starting to heal.

At a secluded table, the young security officer, Sean Erin and the new ship's counselor were conversing between themselves and smiling between words. Another couple once sat in that spot on another Enterprise, Guinan thought, silently recalling the couple in question. One of them was a Troi, too. I hope you fare better than they did, she thought with a smile. She thought they would. Unlike the first couple, these two had the same vision for their lives and had agreed about the path to take to reach it.

Security Chief Daggle entered with Lt. Nolan and Lt. Foccart and joined a group of officers and the group quickly meshed. Conversation was easy and casual and Guinan noticed that even the Zaldan, Thom Kallor, was laughing at one point during it. Despite this, Ensigns Henrickson and Starkey, who were seated across from him, gave him an uneasy look.

Ensign Bardonner, Lt. Fortier and Ensign Becker cleared the lounge doors with Ensigns Paula, Rash and Zickrick close behind them. They ordered drinks and took a table with several of their friends. Guinan recognized only a few of the persons they seated themselves with. She knew Lt. Spassov from his work in Hydroponics and she knew Lt. Schuldt from Engineering. She thought the other two were from the civilian sector. She couldn't place the first name of the Dobiesz man nor the Teed woman but knew them from the personnel log.

Entering with Lt. Loomis and Ensign Barnes, Lt. Benem presented Lt. Cmdr. Morgna with a plant from Venus before joining Ensign Sepht and the Captain's table. Several other officers were falling in behind them and settling at other tables as Guinan looked on with a smile. She turned then and went into the hallway.

She thought of all the many ships that had held the name Enterprise. Old Earth ships that had traveled the waterways, then later the spaceways and of all the Starfleet starships that bore the legendary name.

When reached her cabin and went to a shelf that housed a favorite book, which she took down. She seated herself on an overstuffed couch and opened it. The first page contained a picture of a large man in front of an equally large water-based ship. Guinan searched her memory and came up with a name. Henry Miller Shreve. She remembered meeting him on Earth around the year 1815 shortly after he and his steamboat, the Enterprise, became the first boat to ascend the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers to a place he referred to as "Louis'ville Kanetucky." She remembered later visiting the city in Louisiana that he had helped found, Shreveport.

On the second page was a picture of an antiquated and sea-going warship. Tall masts and billowing sails along with gunports and rigging dated the ship as one used after a bloody conflict in Earth's history, the Civil War. At the ships helm was a tall man in a Naval Uniform. On the opposing page was another picture. This one was of a nuclear-propelled surface warship used during the Earth period of 1960. On its surface were several smaller aircraft. In the picture, it glided effortlessly across the surface of a choppy sea.

On the next page, a small aircraft that was aboard the previous vessel proudly displayed the signature, USS ENTERPRISE, NAVY, V5-29.On this page was still another craft of antiquated origin just after Earth began its space program. In front of it stood people in jumpsuits bearing the initials NASA. In the background aboard a transit vehicle was a cylindrical ship emblazoned with the name Enterprise.

On following pages were of the first starship that bore the name, the one captained by John Harriman, Jean-Luc Picard, Murai Foxx, Tartan Nears, Janga Valetta, Rokk Krinn and now Projectra, Princess of Orando.

Guinan closed the book and replaced it. As she went to her bed, she lay down with this thought in her head; the Enterprise has had a proud past. As sleep claimed her, she thought, it would have an even prouder future.