Historian's Note: This story takes place in late spring 2376 during the Defiant's tour of the Gamma Quadrant (Depicted extensively in the Mission Gamma series of books set after the series)

Only a few weeks into their high profile exploration of the Gamma Quadrant and they were already being asked to make a detour. Vaughn frowned as he reread the data PADD his XO, Ezri Dax, had presented him with just to make absolutely sure he was getting this right. In all his one hundred and something years, most of those spent in the service of Starfleet, had he never expected to…

"They want us to pick up journalists?!" he finally came out with it, putting the PADD down with a clunk on his office desk.

A different Ezri Dax stood in front of Commander Elias Vaughn this afternoon (Ship time), she wasn't the same timid Counselor that had arrived on Deep Space 9 a year ago. You would've half expected that Ezri Dax to run for the hills at even that loud clunk of PADD against Desk. This Ezri Dax, the one that had traded in her teal collar for that of red was firm, authoritative, but when she needed to be was still a good listener.

"Sir?" she said, it wasn't really a question. The orders hadn't been eyes only and she'd given them a brief glance before handing taking them to Commander Vaughn and had gotten the gist.

"So is Starfleet saying they don't enjoy reading my reports anymore?" Vaughn said. Although Starfleet still to this day, Dominion War and all, maintained that they were NOT a primarily a military organisation, Vaughn had always considered himself a soldier… and the business of being a soldier did not involved picking up "tourists".

"Command could be right sir. It could be a major morale boost for the folks at home to see the Federation flying a flag of peaceful exploration in an uncharted area of space again," Ezri didn't know if that was her own opinion yet, that depending on the type of journalists they'd sent to meet with them, but she thought Vaughn would appreciate having Starfleet's opinion made oral.

"It's not just that. The Defiant will have to make a 5 day detour just to pick them up from the Karemma homeworld, only to make another 5 day trek back to our original path. And who knows how long they're going to be aboard. Or what they'll be doing. Or who they'll be interviewing…"

" - Or where they'll stay!" Ezri said throwing her hands up in the air, sleeping arrangements for this journey had been strictly her responsibility. Vaughn had had enough to think about in the run up to this mission including his first Orb encounter, and almost being destroyed rescuing people from a doomed planet.

"Well I'm sure if we tell Starfleet that they'll reconsider," Vaughn said, surprising even himself with his injection of some humour. He reached down and picked up the PADD. "Fine let's play Starfleet's game. Besides maybe this Mister Charles and Miss Cartwright aren't so bad?"

"These… these… quarters! If they can be called this simply aren't acceptable?!"

Ezri could feel the headache slowly forming in her temples, this had already been a long day and it wasn't going to end without a fight. The 5 days to the Karemma homeworld had been cut short to 4 and a half thanks to some engineering trickery from Lieutenant Nog, but the two journalists a Gregory Charles, and Laura Cartwright, were proving that she'd have rather that other half day just to prepare.

This latest complain, in a series that included a "bumpy" transporter ride, and rude Security Officers, was coming from the latter. Laura Cartwright was in her 40s, a graduate of some fancy journalism school on Alpha Centauri, or Proxima Centauri? Ezri always got the two mixed up. She seemed to make it somewhat of a mission to moan about everything.

"This is all the living space we can allocate to non-essential personnel. Besides all the quarters are the same," Ezri was explaining for what seemed like the fifth time.

"I bet Commander Vaughn or yourself don't have… have… bunkbeds," Laura said as if it were a dirty word.

Ezri had had enough, she simply took a step back into the corridor saying as she hit the command that would seal the door. "I'm sure you're tired from your journeying and settling in. I'll see you in the morning."

The door sealed and Ezri breathed a sigh of relief as Laura's continuing complaining was drowned out.

Her relief was short lived as she reopened her eyes and cocked her head to the left, and found Laura's associate Gregory Charles stood beaming. He was a slight man, thin and even shorter in stature than Ezri. He did however have a presence twice the size. Ezri didn't fail to notice the man was brandishing a PADD and a stylus. "Starfleet personnel having to rough it on deep space mission. Starfleet skimping on costs again?"

Ezri just eyeballed the Defiant's guest before turning and leaving.

Meanwhile on the bridge of the Defiant Vaughn had drawn his own short straw and was supervising nighttimes' Gamma shift voluntarily. They were 2 days out of Karemma and still another 2 and a half before being back on course. Most Centurion Humans would say two weeks is a very long time in perspective, but that was a perspective Vaughn had seemed to never pick up. That and it generally just bugged him his mission had been held up. Thusly he'd used his free time to devise a short cut that took them a little out of the way, but got them back on track another 6 hours sooner.

"Captain," called Ensign Tenmei from the CONN, she had also drawn the short straw. Gamma shift she didn't mind, working with her estranged father that now had wound up being her commanding officer, she did.

"I'm detecting a small metallic cylindrical object up ahead, it seemed to be emitting a very weak signal."

"A distress signal?"

"Could be."

"Drop us out of warp and hail the object."

Tenmei responded with fury of hand movements across her panel that saw the USS Defiant drop out of it's own little hole in subspace and returning safely to normal space. It came in for a pass around the object as Tenmei opened hailing frequencies.

"No response sir. But I'm detecting lifesigns aboard… faint lifesigns."

"Beam them directly to sickbay," Vaughn said, his commanding instincts, although a century old, kicking in without any hassle. He slapped his combadge and spoke with urgency, "Vaughn to Bashir."

Bashir's voice responded after a brief pause, he sounded a little croggy, "Bashir here Commander."

"Report immediately to Sickbay, wounded unidentified on their way."

Bashir signed off with an affirmative and Vaughn returned his attentions to the view screen.

Tenmei reported, "Sir… the lifesign. It's… it's… Human?"

"Human? Out here? In the Gamma Quadrant? Scan that lifepod, or whatever it is, is it of Federation origin?"

Tenmei worked a few controls, with the injured party safely in the Defiant's pattern buffer they'd be alright and it'd give the crew a chance to find out what the hell was going on.

"It could be, it's constructed of metals used by Starfleet, but those same metals can be found in Cardassian, Klingon, even Breen starships."

Vaughn let a frown cross his face as Tenmei reported the successful transportation of the patient into the Defiant's sickbay. They'd have to await the Doctor's prognosis.