In Command's Shadow
                                         by
                                     Robert Roy

                                BIZARRENESS WARNING:
             The following short story is completely bizarre.  Don't say
                                 I didn't warn you.

                 Personal  log,  stardate  47703.2,  Doctor  Robert  Roy
            recording: Well,  here's something  I never  thought I'd  be
            saying: I'll be leading an away team.
                 A few  days ago,  we received  a distress  signal  from
            Federation station DS6, in orbit of  Tlerna VI.  A  cometary
            collision apparently caused massive damage to their computer
            systems.  From what  I understand, they  were lucky to  have
            come through the collision as well as they did.
                 Originally, Commander  Brown had  selected me  for  his
            away team so that I could check the programming banks of the
            station's computer  and  rebuild anything  that  was  beyond
            repair.  Of course  that'll still be  my mission, except  it
            won't be Commander Brown that leads the team, it'll be me.
                 No sooner had we departed for DS6 than we got the call:
            The USS Crazy Horse hereby ordered to the Tasman sector.  No
            reason given,  but  I  can't believe  it's  anything  but  a
            military mission.   I'm  glad I  won't  be there.    There's
            nothing that scares me about this job more than the military
            aspects.  It's not that I'm  afraid that I might be  ordered
            into a situation where  I might have to  die.  That  doesn't
            scare me.   What  scares me  is I  might be  ordered into  a
            situation where I might have to kill.
                 Anyway, back to the away team ... Since Commander Brown
            and Lieutenant Commander Scott will  be needed on the  Crazy
            Horse, as senior officer  (now there's a laugh)  I am to  be
            left  in  charge.    With  me  will  be  security   officer,
            Lieutenant Michael  Holman,  Sr., and  engineers  Lieutenant
            Alan Young, and Lieutenant Robert Putnam.  Also,  Lieutenant
            Tim  Priebe,  normally  the  shuttlecraft  maintenance  crew
            chief, will be  helping out  and piloting  our shuttle:  The
            Theiss.

                                      *   *   *

                 Gathering what few devices I would be needing from  the
            computer room, I  asked Commander Moira,  "Why exactly do  I
            have to lead this thing?"
                 Her voice, which seemed to come from all around me,  an
            effect  that  gave  her  the  appearance  of   omnipresence,
            answered in her usual even tones, "Because you are the  most
            senior of the group."
                 "I don't see how." I retorted, "Lieutenants Putnam  and
            Priebe ..."
                 Moira interjected,  "Lieutenants, junior  grade  Putnam
            and Priebe."
                 "Whatever ...  They both  graduated  in my  class,  and
            Lieutenants Holman and Young were at  least a year ahead  of
            me."
                 "By time in grade.", She announced.
                 "But I just said ..." I began before she interrupted.
                 "You have  an  advanced  degree  in  computer  science,
            correct?"
                 "My doctorate."
                 "Right, and because of that, you graduated the  academy
            with your current rank of Lieutenant, senior grade.   Putnam
            and Priebe are a rank below you.  Holman and Young were only
            recently promoted to your rank.  You are the senior officer,
            like it or not."
                 "So then why don't you assign someone who at least  has
            some command experience?"
                 "Sorry, but we don't  have the manpower  to spare.   We
            may be going into combat in  the next day or two.   Besides,
            you have some command experience."
                 Surprised, I demanded, "When?"
                 "That holodeck simulation.", She answered.
                 "A simulation?  That doesn't count."
                 "Sure it does.  You didn't know it was a simulation  at
            the time.  You handled that situation well, Doctor."
                 "I abandoned my post at the first opportunity."
                 "Okay, so your solution was a little bit unorthodox."
                 "I would have been court martialled."
                 "But it was only a simulation."
                 "As you said, I didn't know that at the time."
                 "And now you do."
                 I paused for a moment.  There was definitely  something
            ominous about the way  she said that.   I asked, "So  what's
            that supposed to mean?"
                 "That either you  collect your  away team  down in  the
            shuttlebay within  the  next  ten  minutes,  or  instead  of
            accompanying  you  on  your  mission,  Mr.  Holman  will  be
            escorting you down  to the brig.   Do I  make myself  clear,
            Lieutenant?"
                 "Yes, Commander.", I answered, "Quite clear."

                                      *   *   *

                 In the cockpit  of the Theiss,  with had just  recently
            departed the Crazy Horse and began its journey towards  DS6,
            Lieutenant Priebe set the  controls on automatic and  turned
            from his position  to join in  the briefing I  was about  to
            give.
                 I opened  by asking,  "Does everybody  know what  their
            specific tasks are?"
                 "Repair the docking bays and any other extra  vehicular
            equipment." Answered Priebe.
                 Putnam reported,  "I'll  be  working with  you  on  the
            computer system, fixing any hardware problems we encounter."
                 "My job  is  to  work  on  the  superstructure  of  the
            station, make  sure  the  structural  integrity  fields  are
            working right and  do any  other general  repairs that  need
            doing.", Young replied.
                 "And I'm mostly along for the ride.", Holman added.  He
            had the distinct air of someone who'd rather not be on  this
            mission.  I couldn't blame him, frankly, since I didn't want
            to be here either.   Of course the  difference is that  he'd
            rather be back on the ship  and I wouldn't want to be  there
            either.  Next time I speak with Counselor Campbell, I  think
            I'll bring up the fact that I'm clearly in the wrong job.
                 "Close enough.", I stated, "If anything happens and you
            need to report  to me, please  don't be afraid  to let  your
            pride get in the way and keep it to yourself."
                 "Yes, Doctor.",  Young  added  in a  tone  that  fairly
            screamed that he felt that he should have been given command
            of this away team.
                 Personally, I thought he was right.

                                      *   *   *

                 Calling back to me from the cockpit, Lieutenant  Priebe
            reported that we had entered the Tleran system.
                 "I guess we should slow down,  or whatever it is we  do
            to dock.", I told him.  Needless to say, I wasn't up on  the
            latest bridge jargon.  I wasn't really paying attention, but
            I think  Young, who  had been  enjoying a  beverage,  almost
            coughed it  up  on his  computer  terminal.   Putnam  barely
            concealed the smirk  that came to  his lips.   No love  lost
            there, I guess.
                 "Slow to impulse?", Holman suggested.
                 "Yeah," I agreed, "that sounds wise.  Slow to  impulse,
            Mr. Priebe."
                 "Aye, sir." Laughed Priebe.
                 I decided to  move up to  the cockpit to  get a  better
            view of DS2.  Astounding  is not the word  for it.  Most  of
            Starfleet's  space  stations  are  the  same  spindle  shape
            design.  They look good, of course, but who needs a  hundred
            copies of Space  Station One?   About  the only  interesting
            space station designs  in starfleet  are DS6,  built by  the
            Tlerans, DS9,  built by  the Cardassians,  and Starbase  89.
            Then again, Starbase 89 was originally not supposed to be  a
            space station.    Let's just  say  that Starfleet  won't  be
            storing  trilithium  and  dilithium  in  the  same  location
            anymore.
                 DS6 doesn't have the majestic beauty of DS9 (well, it's
            beautiful on the outside, at  least), but there's a  certain
            amazing quality to Tleran architecture.   I can't quite  put
            my finger on why I find it so appealing.
                 Then again, that might be exactly what I like about it.
                 What's more,  this  was  hardly  the  station's  finest
            moment.  The damage was quite extensive.  But  mysteriously,
            even the damage didn't look out of place.
                 "May I ask you a question, Sir?", Priebe asked.
                 "As long as it doesn't include the word 'Sir.'"
                 "Okay.  Is it an act, or are you are this incompetent?"
                 "Don't waste any words,  do you, Priebe?", I  observed,
            after a  beat, I  continued, "I  have no  business being  in
            command of anything unless it involves computer science."
                 "Doesn't this mission involve computer science?"
                 "Yes."
                 "Well then?"
                 "Uh ... I think I'll go back into the cabin now."
                 "Fair enough."
                 "Insightful bastard.", I mumbled  under my breath as  I
            returned to my seat.
                 "Preparing for  station keeping.",  Priebe called  back
            into the cabin.  Something in  his tone suggested that  he'd
            heard exactly what I'd said.
                 Good.

                                      *   *   *

                 I had to adjust  my eyes once we'd  beamed over to  the
            station.  Because of the  collision, they were on  emergency
            lighting only,  and  that wasn't  much.   I  thought  I  saw
            something moving in the shadows.  I rubbed my eyes to  clear
            them, and to get them better adjusted to the dark.  I looked
            again, but if  there was anything  there, it  was gone  now.
            Still, the image lingered in my subconscious.
                 "My name  is  Khol n'Rith."  Stated  a Tleran  who  was
            extending  a  long-fingered  hand  towards  me,  "I  am  the
            Commander of this station."
                 Taking his hand, I replied, "Hello, Commander.   Doctor
            Roy, of the Crazy Horse."
                 N'Rith frowned.   "Why  did the  Star Fleet  send me  a
            doctor?  We can take care of our own sick, but we need  help
            with repairs."
                 "I'm not a medical doctor.  My doctorate is in Computer
            Science.  I'll be  repairing your computer's program  banks,
            as required."
                 Nodding his understanding, n'Rith informed me, "I  will
            show you to the computer core, then, Doctor.  I am delighted
            to hear the Star Fleet has sent me their finest."
                 Priebe snickered  at  that, and  Young  almost  gagged.
            N'Rith looked back  at each  of them,  and then  at me,  and
            asked, "I said something amusing?"
                 "Why do you ask?"  I returned, as though I didn't  know
            what he was talking about.  I considered a warning glare  at
            my so-called subordinates, but decided against it.
                 "Your officers ... I think they laughed at me."  N'Rith
            answered cautiously.  He didn't seem to know what to make of
            human reactions.
                 "What them?" I asked, looking at Priebe and Young, "No,
            they weren't  laughing  at  you.    Lieutenant  Holman  said
            something quite amusing."
                 "Really?", N'Rith doubted, "What did he say?"
                 N'Rith looked back and forth between Holman and myself,
            waiting for an explanation.  Holman  gave me this, "How  are
            you gonna get out of this?" Look.
                 "I  would  explain  it,  Commander,  but  I'd  be  very
            surprised  if   the  meaning   didn't   get  lost   in   the
            translation." I lied.
                 N'Rith didn't  look convinced,  but he  let the  matter
            drop.  Instead he showed us around the station, specifically
            the areas that needed repairs.   A number of Tleran  workers
            had already begun  the repair process.   N'Rith pointed  out
            one of  the  Tleran  officers,  saying,  "That's  Lieutenant
            Commander Drana  M'Kree, my  first officer.   She's  be  co-
            ordinating the repair effort.  If your officers would report
            to her, Doctor, I'll show you the computer room."
                 "Of course,  Commander.    Young,  Holman,  Priebe  ...
            Please do as the  Commander says.   Mr. Putnam, you're  with
            us." I ordered.  N'Rith seemed to wonder why I wanted Putnam
            along, so  I explained,  "I'd like  Mr. Putnam  to give  the
            computer hardware the once over  before I check the  program
            banks."
                 N'Rith indicated his understanding and then lead us  to
            the computer room.

                                      *   *   *

                 "This is  a mess."  Putnam  indicated once  n'Rith  was
            gone.  I  had to agree  with him.   It looked  as if  almost
            every circuit in  the core had  been fried.   The  station's
            computer systems had to  be set on  minimum routing just  to
            maintain any computer control whatsoever.
                 "Comet's will do that, I guess.", I observed.
                 Putnam stopped what he was  doing for a moment,  looked
            around, probably looking to see if  any Tlerans were in  the
            area, and then spoke conspiratorially, "That's just it,  I'm
            not sure this is cometary damage."
                 "So what, is it some form of modern Tleran art?"
                 "Very funny, Doc.  Look, this is a Federation  standard
            computer core.  Everything else  on this station is  Tleran.
            My guess  is  they  don't know  how  to  maintain  the  core
            properly."
                 "That's  an  interesting  theory."  Remarked  Commander
            M'Kree who had just entered the  computer room.  She  walked
            over to  me and  we shook  hands.   She  continued,  "Wildly
            fanciful, mind you, but certainly interesting."
                 "It's not  that I  don't trust  you, Commander,  but  I
            noticed  that  your  workers   were  doing  the   structural
            repairs,"  Putnam  added,  "but   no  one  was  fixing   the
            computer."
                 "Given  the  choice  between  breathing  and  doing  my
            taxes," M'Kree responded, "I think I'd rather make sure  the
            station is  structurally  sound  before I  worry  about  the
            computer."   Although she  was answering  Putnam,  Commander
            M'Kree spoke directly to me.  I presumed it was some kind of
            Tleran protocol.
                 "And that job  would be much  easier if  you'd fix  the
            computer." Continued Putnam.
                 M'Kree  was  about  the  add  another  retort,  but   I
            interrupted, "Are  you intent  on starting  an  interstellar
            incident, Mr. Putnam?"
                 "No ..."
                 "Good.  Why don't you finish fixing the core, and  when
            you're done,  give me  a call.",  I told  Putnam.   I  began
            walking towards the  door, never once  breaking eye  contact
            with Commander M'Kree until I passed by her.
                 I listened  for her  footfalls.   She must  have  stood
            there almost three seconds before she spun around to  follow
            me.  She almost had to run to catch up.
                 "This is a lovely station." I commented.
                 M'Kree was silent  for a slightly  longer than I  found
            comfortable.  When she spoke up,  it was not in response  to
            my statement.    "You  do  not  do  repairs  yourself?"  She
            inquired.
                 "Pardon?"
                 "The repairs.   Your  officers are  helping repair  our
            station, but you, Doctor, are only supervising."
                 "I don't do hardware, Commander." I explained, "I  only
            work with software, which I'll be  fixing up just right  for
            you once Mr. Putnam is finished."
                 "Ah." She responded, "The  Star Fleet does things  very
            differently than  we  do.   A  Tleran doesn't  stand  around
            waiting, but pitches in wherever possible."
                 "Commander ..." I began.
                 Interrupting, she informed me, "You may call me Drana."
                 "And you  can call  me Robert,  if  you'd like.    It's
            probably best not to judge Starfleet by my example.  I am by
            no means a  model officer.   Frankly,  I'm not  even a  good
            officer."
                 "You must be pretty good, Robert, if they trust you  to
            lead missions."  M'Kree advised.
                 "Not really.   Going into combat,  they need all  their
            experienced officers on  the ship.   We're  a contingent  of
            unneeded officers."
                 "Tell me, is this  self-deprecation another trait  that
            is unique  to  you, Robert,  or  is  this one  that  can  be
            ascribed to officers of the Star Fleet in general?"   M'Kree
            asked me.  It was quite clear that I was starting to get  on
            her nerves.
                 "I wouldn't  say it's  unique,  no, but  it's  probably
            rare.  Starfleet officers are far too arrogant for my taste.
            They're smug bastards, mostly."
                 That got a laugh from M'Kree.   Rounding a corner,  our
            path was  blocked  by a  technician  carrying some  sort  of
            equipment.  M'Kree pressed up against the wall, and I leaned
            against the railing to make room for the technician to pass.
            Unfortunately, the  railing  was  not  up  to  the  task  of
            supporting my weight.
                 I felt an incredible searing pain started at one of  my
            hands that shot  up my  arm.  Looking  up, I  saw the  blood
            trickling down my right arm.  Somehow, without realizing,  I
            had grabbed the  base of a  banister, which  didn't do  much
            good for my hand, but it  kept me from falling to my  death.
            A fair trade, I guess.
                 I was able to bring my  left hand up to grasp the  edge
            of the landing and at least steady myself.  A moment later I
            felt strong arms holding me.  M'Kree and the technician each
            had hold of  one of my  arms.  As  they pulled  me onto  the
            landing, I heard a ripping sound.   I hoped that wasn't  any
            part of me tearing.
                 Luckily, it was  only the material  of my pantleg  that
            had caught on a sharp edge.
                 After taking a moment to catch  my breath I got up  and
            dusted myself  off.   I tore  some material  off my  already
            ruined pants and wrapped it around my hand.
                 "You all right, Robert?"  A concerned Commander  M'Kree
            asked, looking  up at  me.   She was  still sitting  on  the
            floor.
                 I nodded yes,  and then  added, "Pretty  good, plus  or
            minus five percent."  M'Kree considered asking me what I was
            talking about, but I waved her  off, stating, "I'm going  to
            beam back to my shuttle and fix myself up.  See you later."
                 I  hit  the  recall  circuit  on  my  armband.    As  I
            disappeared from  the  station, I  mentally  kicked  myself.
            Instead of gashing my hand up,  I could have just beamed  to
            safety.  What a dolt.

                                      *   *   *

                 It was a good thing that I'd packed my formal  uniform.
            I considered mixing  and matching my  standard uniform  with
            the formal one, but decided to  go with the straight  formal
            outfit.  Of  course I never  did get round  to picking up  a
            proper formal uniform top that  would be appropriate for  my
            new division, so I took this opportunity to get back into  I
            nice set of blues.
                 About the same time as the dermal regenerator  finished
            with my hand, Putnam called me  to say that he was  finished
            with the core.  I decided  to beam directly to the  computer
            room.
                 "So  how  does  it  look?"  I  asked  Putnum  once  the
            transporter field had released me.
                 Putnam  turned  around  towards  me,  but  instead   of
            answering my question he just stood there gape mouthed for a
            second.  I realized he was looking down at my legs.
                 "Ye n'er  seen'a  man  'n'a  kilt  b'fore,  laddie?"  I
            brogued.
                 "Uh ... Is that what that is?" He stammered.
                 "Aye." I continued in my accented speech (or, to me, my
            unaccented speech), and  then returning to  my more  typical
            parlance, "What would you think it is?"
                 "Well, aren't kilt usually a little more colourful?"
                 "Not this one." I replied.  This particular kilt was in
            a tartan of  black, white  and blue,  in a  pattern that  is
            based on that of my ancestral clan of MacGregor.  Although I
            wasn't born in Scotland (being  a spacebaby, that is),  I've
            always felt  as if  there's a  tidal pressure  in my  blood,
            drawing me inexorably towards  customs and traditions of  my
            ancestors.  I continued, "It's a kilt uniform.  I'm probably
            not the  only  one  on the  ship  that  has one.    I'd  bet
            Commander Brown has one."
                 "Maybe.   I  guess  I haven't  been  to  enough  formal
            occasions since my posting to the  Crazy Horse.  Say,  isn't
            that outfit a little impractical for work?"
                 "If my  ancestors  could  fight battles  in  them,  I'm
            pretty sure I can program a  computer wearing one.   Anyway,
            I'll take over here  now.  Report  to Commander M'Kree,  and
            see if there's anything you can do to help out."
                 "Aye, sir." He replied, in imitation  of my brogue.   I
            shook my head, and then started  to scan the program  banks.
            Over his shoulder, Putnam remarked, "I still say they  don't
            know how to repair this computer core."
                 He was  out the  door before  I  could mention  that  I
            agreed with him.

                                      *   *   *

                 Reprogramming the station's computer  was about a  half
            hour job.  I probably gave  them a more sophisticated  setup
            than they  needed,  considering  the  whole  thing  will  be
            stripped down to minimum in about a week, but it's not as if
            I didn't have the time.
                 I decided to  seek out  Commander M'Kree.   My  earlier
            departure was a  little bit sudden.   I  didn't exactly  get
            round to thanking her for helping to save my life.  Nor, for
            that matter, did I thank that technician.
                 It never crossed my  mind that I  might actually get  a
            chance to  see that  technician again.   That  is, it  never
            crossed my mind until I did see him.
                 He wasn't dressed in the same technician's uniform.  He
            was wearing a long  black, hooded robe.   His hood was  down
            about his shoulders, so  I could clearly see  his face.   He
            looked a little older  than I remembered  him, but I  really
            only caught a glimpse  of the man.   When I approached  him,
            however, he quickly brought the hood  up to cover his  head,
            and to conceal his face.  He turned to leave.
                 "Hey, wait!" I  called to him,  "I just  wanted to  say
            thanks for earlier."   He disappeared  around a  corner.   I
            tried to catch up to him, but he was gone.
                 I shrugged  my shoulders  and continued  my search  for
            Commander M'Kree.

                                      *   *   *

                 Entering the ops room,  I spotted M'Kree speaking  with
            Commander n'Rith.  They were both watching Putnam and Priebe
            fixing one of the consoles that  had shorted out.  Were I  a
            lip reader,  I'm  sure I  would  have seen  that  they  were
            discussing Mr.  Putnam's  suspicions.   Instead  of  reading
            lips, I tried  to read M'Kree's  eyes.   Something in  their
            depths told me that we were  right to suspect something  was
            up, but that it wasn't what we thought it was.
                 "The repairs are going well." Lieutenant Young told me.
            I was concentrating on M'Kree, and  so I hadn't noticed  him
            walking up behind me.
                 Uninterested, I  replied,  "I suppose  that's  good  to
            know."
                 "Just thought you'd like a report."
                 "Why?"
                 "You're leading this away team, aren't you?"
                 "Oh.  Fair  enough." I  answered, adding,  "And a  good
            report it was, too."
                 Young walked off,  shaking his  head in  dismay.   That
            brought a smile  to my lips.   "Nice kilt,  by the way.",  I
            heard him say as he wandered off.  I smiled more broadly.  I
            decided to see if I could learn anything else from  M'Kree's
            eyes.
                 For convenience's sake, I guess, Drana decided to  give
            me an instant close-up of her eyes.  As I turned back in her
            direction she was standing not more than twenty  centimeters
            from me.
                 Ante up.
                 She opened with, "How are you feeling?"
                 I saw her with,  "Much better." I  raised her, "I  just
            wanted to say thank you for saving my life."
                 "Well, it wouldn't look  good to the  Star Fleet if  we
            let one of their officers kill himself on our station."  She
            answered.  Glancing at her hand, she considered her options.
            Throwing everything into the pot, she asked, "Are you  doing
            anything for dinner tonight?"
                 "Just having it with you." I called.

                                      *   *   *

                 After Commander M'Kree made arrangements for our dinner
            date, I was still hanging around ops when I heard Lieutenant
            Holman's voice.
                 "Doctor, could you  give me a  hand?" He requested,  "I
            can't get anything to come up on this terminal."
                 Jokingly, I asked, "Have you tried kicking it?"
                 "What?"
                 Walking down towards  him, I  said, "Nothing.   Let  me
            take a look."
                 "I was working  with it when  it just went  blank.   It
            won't take any input, either."
                 "Do you  think  it's a  hardware  problem?"   I  asked,
            taking out my tricorder.
                 Holman shrugged, "No idea."
                 I scanned the  input and  output circuits.   They  were
            active.  I scanned the processor banks.  They were  chugging
            along just fine.  In fact,  I examined every single  circuit
            in the console.  They all checked out fine.
                 "Damn." I muttered.
                 "What's wrong?  Is it the hardware?"
                 "Nope.  That's the problem."  I answered, and then with
            a                                                      grin,
            "If it was hardware  I could slag the  work off onto  Young.
            Now I guess I'll have to do it myself."
                 "What a hardship.  My condolences"
                 "Sometimes a  computer  scientist  has  to  do  what  a
            computer scientist has to do."

                                      *   *   *

                 "You're  not  planning  on  standing  me  up,  are  you
            Doctor?"  M'Kree asked.   She was  leaning against the  door
            jamb of the computer room with her arms crossed.
                 Without little more than a  glance in her direction,  I
            replied, "Well, it certainly wasn't a  formal plan.  I  just
            want to get this done first."
                 "What's up?"
                 "System failures keep showing up all over the  station.
            I fix one terminal  or system and  another breaks down,  and
            always at the software level.  As far as I can tell, all the
            hardware is fine."
                 Jokingly, M'Kree  suggested,  "I guess  you  must  have
            reprogrammed the core wrong."
                 "Let's try to be a tad serious, Drana.  I could program
            one of these in my sleep."
                 "And did you?"
                 I paused and looked  M'Kree in the  eyes, mostly for  a
            dramatic effect, before continuing with my work, and saying,
            "I think someone is manually interfering with the  operation
            of the station.   I'm going  to install  monitors that  will
            alert me to any form of tampering."
                 "How long will that take?"
                 "About half an hour,  I think.  I  have to make sure  I
            trap any possible  circuit configurations.   If I miss  one,
            it'll be useless."
                 "I see."  M'Kree stated as  she turned to leave,  "Then
            you'd better not miss any."
                 I was going to say, "Of course not."  But she'd already
            gone.   I'm sure  if I  was the  perceptive type,  I'd  have
            noticed something about  her parting comment.   But, as  I'm
            not, there would be no point in bothering about it now.

                                      *   *   *

                 "Computer, where is Commander M'Kree?" I asked into the
            air.
                 In its  bland  voice,  nothing  like  Moira's  sonorous
            tones, the computer informed me, "Commander M'Kree is in her
            quarters."
                 "Thank you."  I responded unnecessarily.
                 "Additional information ..." The computer added.
                 "Yes?"
                 A recorded playback of M'Kree's voice replaced that  of
            the computer, and said "Don't bother coming by, Doctor."   I
            shrugged off  the rejection  and began  heading towards  the
            Esplanade, where the  shops and restaurants  are located  on
            DS6.
                 Before I was  half way there,  my communicator  beeped,
            "So where are  you, Doctor?"   M'Kree's voice issued  forth,
            "Weren't you supposed to meet me for dinner?"
                 It took me  a moment to  figure things out.   "Can  you
            hang on  for a  second, Commander?   I  just need  to  check
            something."
                 I hit my combadge to put  M'Kree on hold, so to  speak,
            and checked my  tricorder.   Sure enough,  it revealed  that
            there had been some unauthorized computer access, and it had
            occurred while I was installing the circuit traps and before
            I'd added  the  automatic  reporting function.    I  hit  my
            combadge again.
                 "... Doctor?"
                 "I've found something you might want to take a look at,
            Commander.  Meet me in the  computer room." I told her,  and
            then closed the communication channel.

                                      *   *   *

                 "So what's up?" M'Kree asked me.
                 As I continued to work,  I explained, "I've traced  the
            cause of the  computer malfunctions that  I was telling  you
            about."
                 "Which are those?"
                 "The recurring system failures."
                 "Yes?"
                 I paused  a  moment, considering  the  implications  of
            M'Kree's sudden  memory loss,  and  then continued  with  my
            explanation, "The  monitors that  I installed  to watch  the
            system for me have detected a security breach."
                 That thought brought a look of  concern to the face  of
            Commander M'Kree, as  I suppose should  have been  expected.
            She crossed the  room to stand  next to me.   Her voice  was
            lowered as she asked, "What kind of breach?"
                 "While I  was working  on installing  my monitors,  you
            came in and asked me if I was going to stand you up."
                 "No I didn't."
                 "Exactly."   I stated  without inflection.   I  decided
            that the best way to  eliminate confusion in this  situation
            was to be as opaque as possible.
                 Of  course,  then  again,   maybe  I  was  just   being
            obnoxious.
                 Confused, M'Kree requested,  "Can you  explain that  to
            me?"
                 "While I was  working on installing  my monitors,  your
            doppleganger came in and  asked me if I  was going to  stand
            her up."
                 "My doppleganger?"
                 "That's someone who  looks just like  you ..." I  began
            explaining, but was interrupted.
                 "I know what  a doppleganger is,  Robert, but I  wasn't
            aware I had one."  She lied.  I knew it was a lie as soon as
            I heard it.
                 "Anyway, I told  her I'd  be working  here for  another
            half hour.  She  left and then when  I finished here, I  was
            about to go see you, but  I got a recorded message from  the
            computer, in your voice, telling me to forget it."
                 "I don't recall recording any such message."
                 "But I'm sure she does."
                 M'Kree took a  moment to  evaluate what  I was  telling
            her, and  then commented,  "So, apparently  there's  someone
            that looks just like me wandering around the station  trying
            to ruin our date."
                 "Doncha hate it when that happens?" I joked.
                 "Has anyone ever mentioned that you are sometimes  very
            hard to follow?"  She wondered as she sighed and rubbed  her
            temples.
                 "I've been  taking  lessons from  Commander  Marek  ...
            First officer of the Crazy Horse."
                 "I'd guess  that you're  a promising  student, since  I
            don't know what you're talking about."
                 "She was testing me.   I said that  once I had all  the
            monitors in place that I'd be able to detect any  tampering.
            She obviously wanted to know for sure."
                 "Okay.  That makes a weird kind of sense.  And I  guess
            she used the message  to get your  attention, so that  you'd
            check it out."
                 I could tell  that M'Kree was  still hiding  something.
            She seemed to be  playing dumb.   Though acting obtuse,  she
            seemed genuinely puzzled as to how  I was going to react  in
            this situation.   I felt as  if I was  approaching a  mystic
            shrine and my guide was suddenly trying to lead me away from
            it, but without stirring up my curiosity.
                 Too late.
                 In  my   most   matter-of-fact   tones,   I   remarked,
            "Commander, I'm  sure  you'll  understand if  I  cancel  our
            appointment for tonight.  I'm going to have to return to  my
            shuttle and use its  computer to perform  a cross-check.   I
            think I can isolate how the  breach was accomplished and  by
            whom, but it will take me a few hours."
                 "I see."
                 "Perhaps tomorrow."
                 "Perhaps."  She stated sullenly, and left.

                                      *   *   *

                 I quickly reprogrammed my combadge  so that, as far  as
            anyone else is concerned, I was aboard the shuttle.   Unless
            someone boarded  the  shuttle, or  saw  me on  the  station,
            they'd never be  the wiser.   I inserted  a special  routine
            that would inform the away  team member, privately, if  they
            boarded the shuttle and didn't find  me there.  It  wouldn't
            do for them to send up a hue and cry over a missing  officer
            that simply didn't want to be found.
                 Not that I thought that was likely.  Most of them would
            be just  as happy  if  I suddenly  took  to doing  EVAs  ...
            without a suit.
                 Once that  was set  up, I  used the  shuttle  emergency
            transporter to  place me  in the  bowels of  the station,  a
            place where it was extremely  unlikely that I'd find  anyone
            except  the  people  I  was   looking  for.    I   tactfully
            "sidestepped" the  station's  sensors without  tripping  any
            alarms (even my own), so that I couldn't be traced.
                 It was  a good  thing that  I had  scanned the  area  I
            planned for my destination  beforehand, because there was  a
            distinct lack  of headroom.   It  was also  a good  idea  to
            replace my dress uniform shirt with the one from my  regular
            duty uniform.  It just wouldn't  have been seemly for me  to
            go spelunking around in my dress blues.
                 My tricorder showed me the direction of the ones I  was
            looking for, and I headed towards them.  As I approached,  I
            noticed a path worn in the dust on the floor.  Up ahead  the
            accessway I  was in  opened to  a larger  chamber, likely  a
            maintenance room.
                 I heard  a  slight  noise, from  behind  me.    Without
            looking around, I  called out, "The  Commander is  expecting
            me."  I heard  no response to my  statement, so I  continued
            towards the  chamber.    A  robed  figure  appeared  in  the
            doorway, blocking my way.
                 M'Kree drew back  her cowl.   Of course  it wasn't  the
            same Commander M'Kree that had  stormed out of the  computer
            room several minutes ago.   This Commander M'Kree was  older
            by about fifteen  years.  I  suppose I  should have  noticed
            that difference the  first time I  had encountered her,  but
            then again that's what you get for having conversations with
            people without bothering to look at them.
                 "So, are  you her  doppleganger, or  is she  yours?"  I
            asked her.  It seemed a  logical question.  Of course I  had
            no reason to expect the truth, but I felt I had to ask.
                 I was surprised that the truth was exactly what I  got.
            She explained, "If that can be said of either of us, then it
            is her  ... More  correctly, she  is  my daughter  ...  Most
            correctly, she is me."
                 "When your daughter comes of  age, she replaced you  in
            society.  I take it this  is the normal state of affairs  on
            Tleran."
                 "Exactly.  When Tlerans get to be a certain age we  are
            paired off for mating.  We  don't select our own mates,  and
            it wouldn't make a difference if we did.  We have  developed
            a form of genetic engineering to ensure the exact  phenotype
            expression of our offspring.  I gave birth to two  children,
            and female, who  is exactly like  me, and one  male, who  is
            exactly like his father."
                 "That's interesting.   But  it is  more than  just  the
            phenotype that is identical, I take it."
                 "Over the first years of her life, all of my  knowledge
            was copied from my  mind into hers.   When she came of  age,
            and was both physically and emotionally mature, she  assumed
            my role.  She was, in almost every way, me."
                 I interjected, "But younger ..."
                 "But younger."  She agreed.
                 "So what do the parents do?  I'm sure your society  has
            numerous advantages,  not the  least of  which is  that  its
            people are  effectively immortal.   But  once your  daughter
            took your place, where did that leave you?"
                 "I am but a shadow of my former self."  She  explained.
            At first I thought she was joining me in  self-deprecations,
            but I soon realized there was a deeper meaning to her words.
            She continued, "In this society, I  am called a shadow.   My
            sole responsibility is  to keep up  with everything that  my
            daughter does and everything she learns."
                 "Why?"
                 "If she should  become damaged, I  will be required  to
            replace her until such time as I can be replaced again."
                 "By another daughter?"
                 "Precisely, Doctor.  And  if I am too  old to bear  the
            child myself, another will do it for me."
                 "So you  are forced  to live  vicariously through  your
            daughter?  That doesn't sound particularly satisfying."
                 M'Kree took a breath before replying, "No.  It is not."
                 "Which is  why I  am here,  I take  it?"   I  observed.
            M'Kree nodded agreement, so I pointed out, "I don't see  how
            I can help  you.  Not  without bringing  some serious  prime
            directive trouble my way."
                 "You already  have  been  more  helpful  than  you  can
            imagine, Robert.  You came here, for one thing, and that  is
            of immense value.  But more than that ... How can I put this
            ... You have caught my eye."
                 Though honestly flattering, M'Kree's statement  carried
            an undertone of  danger behind it.   I proceeded  cautiously
            ... well, cautiously for me, anyway ... I joked, "It must be
            the kilt.  But how does that help your cause?"
                 "If you  have  caught  mine, then  certainly  you  have
            caught hers,"    She answered,  "And  if I  can  see  myself
            falling for you, I know she already has."
                 The expression on M'Kree's face changed suddenly and  I
            knew it was bad news for me.  I sensed, without seeing,  the
            weapon pointed at my back.
                 "See ya!"    Was  my response  as  I  double-tapped  my
            combadge.  The shuttle's computer instantly responded to  my
            distress call and  activated the  recall circuit.   My  self
            congratulatory chuckle was cut short, however, when I turned
            around and came  face to hood  with a Tleran  shadow.  If  I
            felt the energy discharge from the  weapon to my body, I  no
            longer have any memory of it.

                                      *   *   *

                 I immediately narrowed the possibilities down to one of
            Moira's little  holodeck  training  sessions or  one  of  my
            delusional fantasies.  Finding myself lying flat on my  back
            on the  hard,  cold  ground  with  Moira's  holodeck  image,
            dressed like a Scottish lady, leaning over me, and a  castle
            rising the  background,  I  guessed it  was  the  delusional
            fantasy.
                 Thoughts came flooding  back to me  of M'Kree's  shadow
            and the energy weapon I was hit  with.  I decided that if  I
            was going  to start  having  delusions every  time  somebody
            tried to kill me, that I might as well have fun with it.
                 I reached up suddenly to  pull a startled Moira's  lips
            down to meet mine.  I  wouldn't have said she was  returning
            my embrace, but she wasn't resisting either.  However,  when
            I released my grip, the computer's holodeck image  distanced
            herself from  me  slightly.   As  I  grinned  wickedly,  she
            demanded, "What was that all about?"
                 "I've always  wanted to  do that."   I  explained,  "No
            reason."
                 Feigning embarrassment, Moira  tried to  sputter out  a
            response, but she was interrupted by  a yell of, "Hey,  now!
            Just what do  you think you  are doing with  my wife?"   The
            shout came  from the  doorway of  the castle,  and from  the
            mouth of Commander Raymond Brown, who was also dressed in  a
            Scottish fashion, looking very much  the Thane, I must  say,
            complete with kilt and claymore.  It was then that I noticed
            my own regal  attire.  This  was certainly one  of the  most
            convoluted fantasies I've ever had.
                 As Brown started walking  towards us, Moira said,  "Get
            off it, 'MacBeth.'   He might  have been  seriously hurt  by
            that stunt you pulled."
                 "And he  really  looks  hurt,  too."    Replied  Brown,
            sarcastically, "I guess that kiss was just a reflex action."
                 "It could  have been."   Moira  answered.   She  smiled
            sweetly, which indicated to me that  she knew it wasn't  the
            case.  Still, she continued, "He was delirious just a moment
            ago.  He  kept muttering something  about shadows and  about
            someone named Drana.  Maybe he thought he was kissing her."
                 "Yeah, that's likely."  Was Brown's incredulous  reply.
            Moira let  the  subject  drop.   Brown  ordered,  "Computer,
            discontinue scenery of program MacBeth One."
                 As the castle and the Scottish hills disappeared around
            us, Moira commented, "You could have said please."
                 "Sorry, force of habit."
                 "Well, get up lazy."  Moira told me.
                 I rose, still  somewhat dismayed at  what was going  on
            around me.  "What exactly happened,  anyway?"  I asked.   It
            seemed a reasonable question.
                 "We were supposed to be rehearsing for a performance of
            MacBeth, but you two got just  a bit carried away with  your
            fencing."  Described Moira, "There isn't even supposed to be
            swordplay  between  Duncan  and  MacBeth  in   Shakespeare's
            version, you know."
                 "Hey, it  was  your idea  to  set this  performance  at
            Glames instead of Inverness, Moira."  Brown rejoined.
                 "Be that as  it may,"  She continued  to me,  "Commando
            Brown, here  decided  to  try a  Robin  Hood  stunt  with  a
            chandelier and sent you flying out the window.  It's amazing
            that you're not dead."
                 "C'Mon, Moira,  there are  failsafes."   Brown  pointed
            out.
                 "Thpbpt."  Was her succinct, less that polite reply.
                 Brown, Moira's  holodeck  image  and  I  began  walking
            towards the  exit.   When we  crossed the  threshold of  the
            holodeck, Moira's  holodeck  image was  seamlessly  replaced
            with her  holographic one.   I  remember  that the  code  to
            perform that  exchange was  a pain  to  write.   Seeing  the
            result, however, made all of the effort worthwhile.
                 "Where to?"  I asked.
                 "Roddenberry's?"  Suggested Brown.
                 I was about to  object, but Moira said,  "Roddenberry's
            is just fine."  And as she did so, she winked discretely  so
            that only I could see.  She obviously had something in mind.
                 As we walked  down the  corridor, Moira  and I  drifted
            back a bit so to talk.  "So who's this Drana M'Kree?"
                 "Just some women I met on a space station in one of  my
            delusions, I guess."
                 Some crewpersons  passed  us  in  the  corridor,  doing
            double-takes on our attire.   "Are you  sure this isn't  the
            delusion?"  Moira asked casually.
                 I considered my possible  replies and decided upon  the
            tongue-in-cheek answer, "I'm not  completely certain, but  I
            figure that  if this  were all  in  my imagination,  I'd  be
            imagining you naked."
                 Moira laughed out loud,  but from the nanosecond  pause
            in her  response  time, I  knew  that  I had  taken  her  by
            surprise.    It's   no  surprise,  really,   that  when   my
            flirtations with  the  ship's  computer  get  a  little  too
            intense that she  has difficulty processing  my intent.   Of
            course, if she was a human woman, she'd have probably hit me
            by now ... Hard.
                 Upon reaching the turbolift, Brown stepped in first.  I
            was about to follow when Moira grabbed my arm and pulled  me
            back.  I suppose that, if I was really looking for one,  the
            fact that  Moira  could  physically  touch  me  outside  the
            holodeck should  have been  as good  a clue  as any  that  I
            really was imagining this all.   For Brown's and my  benefit
            more than her own, Moira ordered, in quick succession, "Deck
            ten, forward!"  And then, "Emergency close!"
                 A startled Commander Brown  spun around quickly  before
            the turbolift doors closed.  I looked at the evil grin,  for
            lack of a better, on Moira's  face for a full three  seconds
            before I burst out  laughing.  She took  me by the hand  and
            said, "C'Mon."
                 "Where?"  I asked.
                 "You'll see."
                 I smiled and  decided to simply  abandon myself to  the
            moment.  We set off running down the corridor.

                                      *   *   *

                 Mental Note: I  think I had  better arrange for  double
            the  number  of  sessions   with  Counselor  Campbell.     I
            definitely need them.

                                      *   *   *

                 Additional Note:  I  also  have  to  remember  to  give
            Commander Willmerdinger a good smack in the head for  giving
            me this idea in the first place.

                                      *   *   *

                 As I lay there with my back against something hard  and
            cold, hopefully the  floor, I  got the  peripheral sense  of
            having been dragged  around.  My  spine was extremely  sore.
            My back is tenuous at the best of times and cannot take  too
            much abuse.  It definitely had that abused feel to it.
                 I finally  got  around  to  opening  my  eyes.    After
            blinking several times, mostly to  verify that my eyes  were
            indeed open, I realized that I was in the dark.  Beyond  not
            knowing what was  going on,  there also  wasn't much  light.
            Also, the ceiling  was only about  a quarter  meter from  my
            eyes.  I came to realize that I was in a Jefferies tube.
                 After a cursory  examination of  the tube,  I found  no
            stellar cartographers present.   What I  did find,  however,
            was a robed figure sitting, back against the wall,  watching
            me.  The robe  and cowl prevented  me from even  determining
            the shadow's gender.
                 "So who  is  Moira?" The  shadow  asked in  a  familiar
            female voice.  I'm  sure if I  had a bit  more time I  would
            have figured out whose voice,  exactly, but before I  could,
            Commander M'Kree  removed  the cowl.    In the  darkness,  I
            couldn't discern which M'Kree I was talking to, exactly.
                 Without pretense, I answered, "My ship's computer."
                 "Liar."  She accused  me, "Why didn't  you tell me  you
            had a mate?"
                 "I don't.  Besides, why would it matter to you?  Aren't
            Tleran mates selected for them?"
                 "Only for  reproduction, Doctor.   For  recreation,  we
            usually choose our own."  M'Kree responded frankly, and then
            resumed her interrogation, "Is Moira your wife?"
                 Realizing that I was in a most uncomfortable  position,
            not only in the conversation but also in the Jefferies tube,
            I sat up  slowly and leaned  against the wall.   "Asked  and
            answered, Commander."
                 In the darkness,  I could see  M'Kree moving closer  to
            me.  I suspected she was attempting to get close enough that
            she could see my face to decide if I was really telling  the
            truth.  Her face was within  a few centimeters of mine,  her
            eyes pouring their gaze into mine.   I took the  opportunity
            to examine her  face to determine  which Commander M'Kree  I
            was talking to.  "What are you doing, Doctor?"  She asked me
            as she realized that instead of looking into her eyes, I was
            looking around them for signs of aging.
                 "I didn't know for sure until now whether I was talking
            to you or your mother."  I told her, keeping my voice  even.
            I watched her eyes for a  moment, and then, just in case,  I
            decided to add, "It's hard to see in the dark."
                 Her  eyes  contradicted  the  words  she  spoke.     "I
            understand."  She said.  I left it at that.  There would  be
            no point in digging myself deeper into a hole now.
                 "Not to change the subject," I lied, "But what the hell
            is going on?"
                 "You've managed to get yourself caught in the middle of
            a revolution."  M'Kree explained, "For some bizarre  reason,
            the shadows have decided to rise up against us."
                 My facial  muscles had  this extremely  clever idea  of
            forming my mouth into the shape of a silly grin,  apparently
            in response  to  something  they  found  amusing  about  the
            Commander's last  statement.   My left  hand, however,  ever
            vigilant to this sort of  betrayal by certain renegade  body
            parts, quickly formed itself into  a ball and placed  itself
            in from of my mouth, thus  obfuscating M'Kree's view of  the
            offending mouth.  I coughed.
                 "You don't  understand  why  they are  rebelling?"    I
            asked.
                 "They have no reasons."  M'Kree answered firmly.  There
            was no confusion or  indecisiveness in her  eyes.  If  there
            were, at this distance I could hardly miss it.  She believed
            her statement with  all her  heart.   I could  see that  her
            stubbornness was going to be unfortunate.
                  "All I can tell  you, Drana, is that  I for one  think
            they have the best of all reasons ... They are bored."
                 "You're not telling  me that you  sympathize with  your
            kidnappers, do you?  Don't you Humans have a word for that?"
                 "You mean the Stockholm syndrome, and no, that  doesn't
            apply.  Look, I've spend too  many hours sitting around  the
            computer room of the Crazy Horse, with nothing to do but sit
            back in my chair and count the Moira's isolinear chips,  for
            me not  sympathize  with them.    Call it  the  Crazy  Horse
            syndrome, if you want, but the fact is that I know what it's
            like to suffer from terminal boredom.  And I'm just one man.
            We're talking about a whole class of people that are made to
            feel useless on their own world.   From what I can see,  the
            shadows are treated as second class citizens, and are barely
            acknowledged as people."
                 I could see the anger boiling up on her face.  Not that
            I was surprised, mind you.  The punch in the mouth was a bit
            of a shock, though.   Tending my bleeding  lip, I heard  her
            rant, "You ungrateful bastard!  Those people just  kidnapped
            you.  Here I am risking my  life to save your hide, and  all
            you can do is  sit there pompously  in your pompous  uniform
            and spout your pompous Starfleet values.   I'm sick of  you,
            and I'm sick of your Starfleet!"  Hitting her combadge,  she
            yelled, "Ops, beam me, and only me, away from this bastard!"
                 I watched as M'Kree moved away from me, and then took a
            self-satisfied pose, waiting for  the transporter effect  to
            rescue her from my  company.  Her smug  grin began to  fade,
            however, as the moments seemed to stretch and she was  still
            there.
                 She tried  to  call at  least  five more  times  before
            giving up.  At the time, I took that as a sign that, if  and
            when we  got out  of the  situation, our  dinner plans  were
            pretty much shot.   Looking back, I think  I made the  right
            call.
                 "Look, if we ..." I began.
                 "SHUT UP!" She yelled,  perhaps even louder than  she'd
            intended.  Lowering her voice to barely more than a whisper,
            she repeated, "Shut up.  I  don't want to hear another  word
            from you.  Just leave me alone."
                 I shrugged.  There wasn't much more I could do, really.
            M'Kree sat in silence for a moment, and then began to  crawl
            away.
                 "Are you just going to crawl your way back to ops?"   I
            called after her.
                 Without  turning   around,  she   returned,  "I'm   not
            interested in your opinion."
                 "It is quite far away, you know.  This isn't exactly  a
            small station."  I mentioned as I started after her.
                 "I don't care."  Was her answer, and added, "And  don't
            you follow me."
                 Ignoring her, I continued, "Crawling along isn't  going
            to make this  go any  faster.  You'll  be lucky  to make  it
            there today."
                 "Go away."  M'Kree warned me.
                 "Of course, using the transporter would be faster."
                 M'Kree stopped for a moment,  probably to think.   "Did
            you not notice  me calling for  a beam out?   I  can see  it
            escaping your attention, since I only did it five times."
                 "Uh,  huh   ...  Very   nice  ...   Anyway,  did   your
            communicator indicate an error?"
                 "What?"
                 "When you  tapped your  combadge,  which sound  did  it
            make, the  one  for an  error  or  the one  that  shows  its
            working?"
                 M'Kree checked it  again, just to  make sure, and  then
            reported, "It's working."
                 "Exactly.  So if there's anyone in ops to receive  your
            message, they  are either  unwilling or  unable to  respond,
            right?"
                 "I suppose so."
                 "So there's no point in worrying about trying to get to
            ops.  If I  had my recall  circuit, I could  beam us to  the
            shuttle."
                 "But  you   don't."     M'Kree   reminded   me,   quite
            unnecessarily.  At least she seemed  to be getting into  the
            spirit things, though.
                 "And if the  shadows are as  thorough as  I think  they
            are, they probably would have disabled the recall program on
            the shuttle transporter anyway."
                 "So  then  what's   the  point?"     She  demanded   in
            frustration.
                 "Well, we've got a communicator, yours, and a  computer
            system, the station's, so  all we have to  do is access  the
            station's computer, link it  via your communicator with  the
            shuttle's, and voila ... Instant transport."
                 She was incredulous when she  asked, "And you know  how
            to do this?"
                 "Me? I thought  you were  going to  do it."   I  joked,
            quite inappropriately I'm sure given M'Kree's current  state
            of mind.  Her reply was,  however, still a bit extreme,  and
            wholly unnecessary.  I don't think I'll repeat it.
                 Anyway, I found an appropriate access panel and got  to
            work.   As I  did  so, much  to  the further  irritation  of
            M'Kree, I sang a song to  myself called "Times Up" that  was
            originally performed by a band called Saga.  I had  recently
            heard a  version  played by  The  Gods of  Thunder,  a  rock
            revival band over on the USS  Champlain, and it reminded  me
            of Moira.  I, of course, sing the alternate version.

                 I spend one half of each day, just eyeing the chrono,
                 Dreaming of all the things I'd like to do.
                 But nothing ever changes, from day to day,
                 I've just been running these tests on you.

                 It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
                 There must be something else, I could do.
                 It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
                 Instead of running these tests on you.

                 /Times Up/
                 You've been wishing your life away.
                 /Times Up/
                 You've been wishing your life away.

                 I'm getting very tired of waiting for a transfer,
                 Then "There's nothing" is the word handed down.
                 I need a little more excitement, gimme some adventure,
                 I don't know how you've held me this long.

                 It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
                 Time just marches on.
                 It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
                 I don't know how you've held me this long.

                 /Times Up/
                 You've been wishing your life away.
                 /Times Up/
                 You've been wishing your life away.

                 Chances of chances, and I know I've had a few,
                 But at the time, it just seemed wrong.
                 Now I'm sitting  here wondering,  waiting, watching  on
            the viewport,
                 Well I'm sure my day will come.

                 It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
                 Time just marches on.
                 It's a mayday, it's a mayday,
                 But I'm sure my day will come.

                 /Times Up/
                 You've been wishing your life away.
                 /Times Up/
                 You've been wishing your life away.

                                      *   *   *

                 "Are you ready?"   I asked  M'Kree when  I was  finally
            done.  It had taken longer  than I'd expected.   Apparently,
            the shadows  had  been  continuing  their  assaults  on  the
            computer core, for  who knows what  reason.  I  was able  to
            allocate a special section and lock  it for my own  personal
            use.  They'd have  to break some  serious encryption to  get
            anywhere near my routing program.
                 With no hint of a question, M'Kree stated, "You're sure
            this will work."
                 "Energizing."  I responded.  A shower of light obscured
            the disappearance of the Jefferies tubes and the  appearance
            of the shuttle's interior.
                 "Well, at least  that worked."   M'Kree commented,  and
            then ordered, "Beam us directly over to ops."
                 I looked at her, and then asked, "Does that sound  like
            a good idea to you?"
                 "Sure.  If you can beam us here, then ops should be  no
            problem."
                 "Drana ..."
                 "Don't call me that."
                 "Commander, then.  Let's a least do a scan of it first.
            Just to be on the safe side."
                 M'Kree deigned to give me  a slight nod to  acknowledge
            that I was right.  Her hot and cold attitude was starting to
            bother me.   Of course, I  was the one  triggering her  mood
            swings, but still I wish she was a little more consistent.
                 In the  shuttle cockpit,  I  activated the  sensors  to
            sweep the station for  lifeforms.  I  narrowed my search  to
            just the area of ops.
                 Nothing.
                 "Nothing."   I  repeated  to M'Kree,  "There's  no  one
            anywhere near ops."
                 "Great."  She answered enthusiastically, "That means we
            can get in there safely."
                 Now, I've never claimed to be exceptionally perceptive.
            However, when M'Kree managed to bring  naive ploys to a  new
            level, I decided I might as well give perspicacity a try.  I
            hadn't quite figured  out the whole  thing out,  but I  knew
            that there was a trap waiting for  me in ops.  But then  why
            would M'Kree rescue me just to lead me into a trap?
                 Of course, there's no better way  to figure out a  trap
            than walking into it, and if  I got myself in too deep,  the
            rest  of  the  away  team  would  probably,  despite   their
            misgivings, rescue me.
                 Revelations often come in threes.
                 Well, that's  not true,  of course.   But  I've  always
            wanted to start one  of those pithy sayings  that end up  as
            common expressions, and as I was on my second in succession,
            I figured this one was as good as any.
                 Returning my scan to a wide field, I tuned it to search
            for only Human  lifeforms.   Tlerans and  Humans have  major
            differences internally that show up easily on the scan.   No
            doubt I'd be  able to isolate  the only four  Humans on  the
            station.
                 Finding  Humans  was,  as  expected,  a  simple   task.
            Entirely too simple, as it turns out, since there were  more
            like forty than four.  Finding Tlerans, however, was not  so
            easy.  There were  a fair number of  them down in the  lower
            sections of the  station.  They  were probably all  shadows.
            The rest of  the station's population  were either Human  or
            ... Sycaran.
                 I got that feeling again that told me that there was  a
            phaser pointed at me.  Of course, this time, the feeling was
            not so  much  due to  intuition  as  it was  due  to  seeing
            M'Kree's reflection  in  the window.    Did I  mention  that
            revelations come in threes?
                 "Is this  Solinae honour,"  I  asked her,  "Instead  of
            killing me outright, you toy with me, keeping me busy  while
            you do whatever it is that you're planning?"
                 "Something like that."  She answered in that smug  tone
            that you'd probably expect from a  master criminal.  I  must
            say I found it  extremely annoying.   She bragged, "But  the
            time for toys is over, Doctor ... At least for you.  If only
            you didn't stand  me up,  then your  distraction could  have
            been a more pleasant one."
                 "And I guess that's out, then?"
                 "That's out then."  M'Kree confirmed.  In the window  I
            could see her grin as her grip tightened around the phaser.
                 I'm not afraid to be in a situation where I might  have
            to die.   What scares  me is being  in a  situation where  I
            might have to kill.
                 Before M'Kree could react,  my hand jetted out  towards
            the control console.   I must say that  it was more  through
            luck than design that I had to route the transporter  recall
            circuit through the  shuttle's navigational system.   I  hit
            the control  that  activated  that recall  circuit  just  as
            M'Kree's phaser fired.

                                      *   *   *

                 When the transporter effect released me, I  immediately
            dropped  to  the   ground,  preparing   to  evade   M'Kree's
            inevitable attack.  However, I soon realized that I was  not
            the only one on the ground.
                 One of the best features ever installed in transporters
            has to be the force field.  Not only does it keep those  who
            are transporting  from  moving  around too  much,  and  thus
            risking transporter errors, it  also prevents disruption  of
            the tranporter signal from outside sources.
                 An additional side  effect, which  I like  to call  the
            Corbomite effect, is that the  force field tends to  reflect
            phaser fire.  M'Kree was obviously unaware of this fact.
                 My hands shook as they sought my tricorder.  I  already
            knew she was dead, she had to be,  but I felt I had to  know
            for sure.  My vision, blurred with stinging tears, must have
            been what caused me to misread the display.  It was  telling
            me that M'Kree  was still alive.   My  senses betraying  me,
            what I saw was not M'Kree, but Moira.  Her image came to  my
            already clouded mind and obscured it further.
                 In quick succession, I noticed  two things.  First  was
            the phaser scar on the doorway  to the cockpit.  The  second
            was Lieutenant  Young standing  behind  me with  his  phaser
            leveled at the spot where M'Kree had stood.
                 "Are you all right, Doctor?"  Young asked with concern,
            "You took quite the tumble during our escape."
                 "Escape?"  I wondered.
                 "From the Solinae."  Young stated as though he expected
            me to know what he was talking about.  He soon realized that
            I didn't  and  explained, "You  must  have a  concussion  or
            something.   I know  you were  a bit  delirious.   You  kept
            calling me Commander Brown, and her,"  He said, pointing  to
            M'Kree, "You called Moira."
                 Some of what he described, I began to remember.  It was
            the MacBeth dream.   I finally  noticed the tears  streaming
            down my  face, and  wiped them  away.   "I still  have  some
            partial memory loss.  Where are the others, Lieutenant?"
                 "Probably still being  held in  the station's  security
            area.  After you attacked that guard, she had enough time to
            call for backup before  you both fell over  the railing.   I
            couldn't break the security codes on the other cells  before
            that backup arrived."
                 I went to the  cockpit and checked  the sensors.   Sure
            enough, I found  the other three  officers in the  station's
            brig.  With the security fields in effect, there would be no
            way to  beam them  out of  there.   Given the  state of  the
            computer core,  I  wasn't  surprised  to  find  out  that  I
            couldn't drop those defenses from here.  I had to be  aboard
            the station to rescue the others.
                 "When the security field drops, get them out of there."
            I told Young as I strode towards the transporter.  I  turned
            back towards Young,  and took the  phaser out  of his  hand,
            saying, "You  probably  won't  be needing  this."    I  also
            noticed that Young had already  tied M'Kree's arms and  legs
            in case she woke up.
                 I think Young was about to make some protest, but I had
            already engaged the transporter.

                                      *   *   *

                 Knowing that I was transporting into a trap, I  figured
            that  I  probably  didn't  have  much  time  to  work.     I
            materialized right  beside  the  console that  I  needed  to
            access.  Dropping the security  fields would be no  problem,
            but the Solinae are no fools.  They'd have had them back  up
            in a second if I didn't stay to keep them down.  I also  had
            to stop them from raising the defense shields.
                 More important  than that,  however, were  the  Solinae
            warriors and  Sycaran soldiers  converging on  my  position.
            They arrived, blasters firing, just moments after I disabled
            the security fields.  I could take partial cover behind  the
            computer console,  but my  attackers  were coming  from  all
            directions.
                 Intermixed with the sounds of blasters was the whine of
            phaser fire.    Looking  up for  a  second,  I  saw  several
            Sycarans falling to  the ground, either  dead or stunned,  I
            couldn't tell.    Phaser fire  also  struck several  of  the
            Solinae warriors.  Some were  knocked down, but most  simply
            turned around  and started  firing at  their attackers.    I
            couldn't  help  being  impressed  by  the  renowned  Solinae
            armour.
                 I set my phaser on stun  and began firing.  I used  the
            momentary distraction  to check  to  make sure  the  defense
            shields were still down.  They weren't.  I was almost hit by
            blaster fire as I attempted to disable them again.  It  took
            longer than last time because I  had to reroute the  command
            paths.  I fired my phaser several more times to get me  some
            breathing room.
                 I noticed, for the first time, the source of the phaser
            fire.   A  number of  Tleran  shadows, lead  by  the  shadow
            Commander M'Kree,  though  pinned down,  were  battling  the
            warriors  as   best  they   could.     However,  they   were
            outnumbered,  and  without  the  benefit  of  armour,  their
            numbers were being slowly whittled down.
                 I tried  to help  out,  but was  shot  in the  back  by
            blaster fire for my effort.  At the time I remember thinking
            I probably wasn't hit  too badly because,  after all, I  was
            still alive.  Before I lost consciousness, I vaguely  recall
            hearing the sound of transporters.

                                      *   *   *

                 Lying flat on my back, I felt like I had fallen out  of
            a window.   Opening my eyes,  I noticed Moira's  holographic
            simulacrum standing over me.  At least I assumed it was  the
            hologram.  Just to make sure, I reached up and tried to pull
            Moira down towards me, as I had done the last time that  I'd
            been hit by an energy weapon.  My hands passed right through
            her, however, and all I accomplished was further injuring my
            back.
                 Startled, Moira  pulled back  from me  reflexively.   I
            couldn't have  touched  her, of  course,  but she  was  more
            motivated by surprise than anything else.
                 "What do you think you are doing?"  Asked Dr. Hedrick.
                 I got this strong sense of deja-vu.
                 "Moira, Please tell me this  isn't another one of  your
            little holodeck simulations."  I demanded emphatically.
                 "No, it isn't Doctor."  She answered.  "If it were,  do
            you think I'd  let you get  banged up like  this?"  I'm  not
            sure but I think I detected a little bit more emotion behind
            that question than she intended to express.
                 "And the away team?"
                 "They're fine, Doctor."  Commander  Marek told me.   He
            had just entered sickbay a moment before.  "Lieutenant Young
            says you did a heroic job of  saving them.  There will be  a
            commendation in it for you."
                 I shrugged,  and  then  asked, "I  assume  the  cavalry
            arrived just in time."
                 "We received a subspace  message from Commander  M'Kree
            telling us that you were in danger.  I guess we arrived just
            in time."
                 "A lucky break."  I commented.
                 "M'Kree sends her apologies.  She had no idea what  she
            was getting you involved in.  They had no idea they had been
            infiltrated by the Sycarans."
                 "I don't suppose you know what the Sycarans were  doing
            here?"
                 "When we  arrived,  they  beamed  their  personnel  off
            immediately.  They  cloaked and,  we assume,  left the  star
            system."
                 Moira interjected,  "We think  you were  the target  of
            their plans, but  what their  intentions were,  we can  only
            guess."
                 Marek informed me,  "You did a  great job leading  your
            first away team."
                 "Any chance it'll be my last?"  I hoped vainly.
                 "Not likely."  Moira replied.
                 I rolled my eyes and then suggested, "If I have to lead
            another one, can it be to Risa?"
                                       THE END