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Nativus (Latin)- native, natural, innate, connatural, inborn, elementaL

Captain's Log

Stardate: 4759.2

Our newest mission from Starfleet is to investigate a planet outside of Federation Territory in that the Romulans have taken interest in, dubbed X-73-93. The planet has not yet yielded any obvious resources, but if the Romulans are interested, then we are also...

"Where is he?" asked Geordi.

"Where is who?" asked Data, who was down in Engineering on break.

"Barclay!" said Geordi, frustrated, "He's late for his shift! Again!" He sighed. "Computer, where is Lieutenant Barclay?"

"Lieutenant Barclay is not on the Enterprise," replied the computer.

"What?" asked Geordi.

"Lieutenant Barclay is not on the Enterprise."

Data frowned. "Strange. I was not aware that Lieutenant Barclay was on leave."

Geordi frowned also. "Neither was I."

Suddenly, the Captain called. "Mr. Data, Mr. LaForge, please report to Deck Fourteen. Mr. Worf has informed me that there's something you might want to see."

Geordi and Data exchanged worried glances. Geordi pressed his badge. "On our way."

"What could be going on?" wondered Data.

Geordi shook his head. "I don't know. I'm worried, though. First Barclay goes missing, and now..."

He stopped short when he saw Deck Fourteen. There seemed to be a sheet of white blocking the passage. A very cold sheet of white. Lieutenant Worf was standing in front of it, his breath steaming.

"What the hell?" asked Geordi. "Computer, fix the climate control on Deck Fourteen!"

"Climate control on Deck Fourteen is operating within normal parameters."

Data blinked. "I was not aware that the normal parameters were below freezing."

Geordi shivered. "They're not." He walked up to Worf. "How did this happen?" he asked.

Worf was staring at the storm, as if trying to figure out how to attack it. "I do not know," he said, not looking away, "I was going to the holodeck to train and this was in the way."

"Any idea what's causing it?"

"None," replied Worf.

Data stepped up. "If I may... the storm seems to be moving in a circular fashion, much like hurricanes on earth. Perhaps if we find the eye..."

"We can find out what's causing it," said Geordi, relieved that a solution had presented itself.

Worf went first, holding his phasar in one hand and Geordi's hand in the other, who in turn held Data's hand so they could stay together. It wasn't easy. The winds were going at least fifty miles an hour, threatening to rip the group apart. As they drew closer to what they hoped was the center of the storm, as they couldn't tell direction in the pure whiteness, the wind seemed to get fiercer and the temperature colder, until Geordi couldn't feel his hands. Finally, the group stumbled into a windless area, chapped and frostbitten (except Data, who was trying to clear ice crystals off his nose). Geordi looked around, and saw icy wind swirling around them. In the center was a person, with a shocked expression on his face, encrusted in ice, hand closed around something Geordi couldn't see.

It was Barclay.

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