USS Odyssey - Jenny Delaney's Quarters

"How do I look?" Jenny Delaney asked, circling around for Harry's inspection even as she smoothed a non-existent wrinkle out of her uniform jacket. Somehow she had tamed her curly hair and pulled it back into a tight twist. He didn't think it was particularly flattering, but instinct told him he should keep that opinion to himself.

"Fine. You look fine." He shook his head. "It's not that big a thing, Jenny. It's just an informal reception for the senior staff, and you've already met them all."

"Sure have." She rolled her eyes. "And a fine job I've made of it so far. The Chief Engineer gets tongue-tied whenever he sees me."

Harry grinned. "I think he's got a crush on you already. He asked me if we're a couple." When she looked alarmed, he added quickly, "Don't worry. I told him we're just friends. But he may not believe me when he sees us come in together tonight. Are you sure you need an escort?"

She laughed. "Don't weasel out on me, Harry. I need protection. It's not just Lt. James. Apparently I didn't make a good first impression on the XO."

Harry couldn't help frowning. Commander Sam Lavelle had been completely professional, if distant, in his interactions with Harry since their first awkward meeting. "Is he giving you a problem?"

"Not really. But he's got a way of making me fell like a first year cadet." Suddenly she looked unhappy. "I *was* a first year cadet when he was a senior. I looked it up."

"You knew him at the Academy?"

"No." She shook her head once. "I never even heard of him, but then, I wasn't paying too much attention to anything outside my immediate circle. But," and she looked even more unhappy, "I'm beginning to wonder if he heard of me. I, um, I wasn't exactly known for my academic achievements as a cadet."

Unbidden, the voice of Tom Paris echoed in Harry's mine. 'The *Delaney* sisters, Harry,' Tom had said as he tried to convince Harry to go on a double date not long after they were first stranded in the Delta Quadrant. The implication had been unmistakable - and something Tom had plainly known from his first hitch in Starfleet. Come to think of it, Tom and Lavelle had been in the same class.

Jenny went on, "It's funny, but I never expected to be a career officer. I went along with Megan because she wanted to be in Starfleet, and we'd never been apart, and it sounded like fun for a while. Look at us now. Megan is out of the service and getting married, and I just want to be taken seriously as an officer. But if he's thinking of me like I was back then-"

"I don't think that's what it is," Harry said. "I'm pretty sure it has more to do with the fact that we were on Voyager. For some reason, I think he thinks we didn't earn our rank."

Jenny looked at him dubiously. "You've said that before, but it seems so, so petty. I figured it had to be me."

He almost laughed. "Is that why you have your hair pulled so tight?"

Her hand flew to her temple. "I wanted to look serious. Not good?" When he shook his head, she smiled. "Give me two minutes." Then she disappeared into the private area of her quarters.

For a moment, he considered telling her to hurry, but thought better of it. They weren't late for the Captain's reception yet and Jenny was nothing if not efficient. Rather than sit, he wandered aimlessly around the room. In typical Jenny fashion, it was already filled with knick-knacks and mementos that made the space unmistakably hers. He picked up a silver-framed holoimage of Jenny and Megan when they were nine or ten, wearing identical pink dresses and flanking a young boy (who was surely their brother Robbie). Another picture near it caught his eye - it was of himself, Tom Paris and the twins, each dressed for the Captain Proton program on Voyager.

On another table, he noted what looked like a block of wood and picked it up. Someone had planed one side of the rough-barked segment to a smooth surface and carved a Celtic knot. He remembered Hugh Murphy working on this on New Hope, at night around the campfires. Hugh and Jenny had been close then, just like he and Marla. . . he set the piece down and turned away. A message from Marla had arrived just that morning, but he hadn't opened it yet. He still hadn't decided if he was going to open it.

"Is this better?"

He wheeled around to find Jenny, posing like a fashion model. She had re-styled her hair into its customary ponytail, pinned neatly in the back and with loose curls on her forehead. "Much," he said. "Shall we go?"


Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

"Message coming in from base," the communications officer said.

Danok rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them before accepting the message. He hadn't slept since they pulled the derelict ship on board. He had known it was trouble the instant he laid eyes on it, and the images from the primitive records haunted his mind whenever he tried to rest. "*Hnafirh'rau*. Let me see it."

The face of Subcommander Liva, his long-time friend and occasional rival at cards, stared back at him. "Commander, our scanners have identified a large vessel or entity approaching from the Keaynn sector. It appears to match the description you provided earlier."

"Send us the data," he said. His voice sounded normal, he noted with satisfaction. His stomach was already shrinking to a hard nut.

"Transmitting now." Liva glanced at something to her left, then raised a hand to someone off screen. "I'm also sending you data from the long range scans we performed. Keaynn is not the only planet that has disappeared. We can locate only three planets in the Nakar system."

Nakar, he knew, should have five planets, two of which were inhabited with pre-warp species. According to the records, they were both centuries away from developing space travel. "Which planets are. . .missing?"

"The ones with oxygen-nitrogen atmospheres." Liva, rarely given to humor, looked grim. "Nakar is directly between here and Keaynn."

"Yes." Danok nodded. By now, the data had been received and appeared on his console. He recognized the shape of the object immediately. "Subcommander, this is the same object recorded by the Keaynn ship. Go to defensive mode immediately."

"Already done." Someone off screen spoke to her, and she nodded. "The object is within visual range now. I'm going to switch channels now, Commander, so you can see what we see."

By S'Task's sword, she was a cool one. Despite the distance between them, he was almost trembling with fear for her and the fourteen others on the station, yet she was the epitome of calm. "Perhaps it's only interested in planets," he said, and then was appalled to realize he had spoken aloud.

Still, it prompted a half smile from her. "Perhaps. Or perhaps we shall prove too small to be of interest. This is, as you have often noted, a puny excuse for a space station."

He managed to smile back at her. The station was little more than an oversized satellite, serving as a watching post on this sector of space and base of operations and maintenance bay for the Sseikea. Still, it represented a certain sense of stability and order in this backwater.

Liva inclined her head, a gesture of farewell, and then the picture shifted so that it originated with the station's external cameras. The small white dot in space grew larger rapidly, until it was plainly visible. There was no doubt that this was the same entity recorded by Distor Stann: a giant cone, gleaming white against the blackness of space, slowing as it approached the station.

As it came to a halt, the tip of the cone raised itself until it was at a ninety-degree angle from the main body. Then the tip inflated into a pale green sphere. Without signal or warning, a beam of green light erupted from it, aimed directly at the station.

"Subcommander!" Danok barked.

On an audio channel, Liva responded, "It is some form of scan. We are still transmitting data."

The bridge crew on Sseikea had fallen silent as they stared at the screen. The beam ended as abruptly as it had begun, and for a second .. then two seconds... then three, nothing happened.

Danok realized he was holding his breath, and inhaled.

The flat front of the cone suddenly irised open, revealing a great maw of swirling energy. "No," Danok whispered.

A flame-colored ball of energy seemed to burst out of the cone. The screen flared white, then went black.

Danok closed his eyes. He kept them closed as the rating at communications said slowly, "Sir, we have lost the signal."

He thought the bridge had never been so quiet. He could here the crew breathing. "*Ta'khoi*. Screen off. Navigator, set a course for the station's coordinates," he said softly. There was no need to raise his voice. "Communications, get through to headquarters. I need to talk to Admiral D'Tur. Declare a class-1 priority."

Opening his eyes, he saw that the crew seemed relieved to have something to do. He wished he did. All he could do was think about the fact that he owed Liva ten credits from their last game of *lle-rho*. He would have to send it to her husband, back on ch'Rihan.


USS Odyssey, Captain's Dining Room

Sam Lavelle was the first to arrive at conference room that had been set up for the Captain's reception. As First Officer, it was part of his duty to see that everything was up to snuff - and if not, to fix it before the Captain arrived. Fortunately, it appeared that the galley staff had done an excellent job. The conference room furniture had been rearranged to open up the room and encourage mingling, and tables laden with appetizers and snacks lined one wall.

Despite his approval of the set-up of the room, he looked over the buffet table with a healthy dose of skepticism. The display was designed for maximum aesthetic effect, down to the vase of scarlet feathers in the center of a plate of tiny Argellian deviled eggs, liberally sprinkled with paprika. In his experience, though, the more artistic the appearance, the more he disliked the food. For some reason beyond his ken, Starfleet cooks couldn't seem to master the skills of good taste and appealing presentation at the same time.

To test this theory, he picked up one of the deviled eggs and popped it into his mouth. In two seconds, he realized his mistake. The red seasoning wasn't paprika at all, but something much hotter. He was sure his tongue was blistering. Grabbing a napkin, he spit the egg out and strode over to the replicator. "Milk," he gasped.

"There are 25 varieties of plant-derived milk and 32 varieties of animal-derived milk available," the computer informed him amiably. "Please specify your preference."

"Cow's milk," he said, trying to conceal his desperation. His voice was raspy and thin. "Terran cow's milk, 2% fat content, 6 ounces."

It seemed to take forever for the glass to materialize, but finally he was able to grab it and chug. The burning began to subside at once, and he almost sighed with relief.

At that moment, Lt. Commanders Delaney and Kim walked in. For a moment, Sam felt slightly ridiculous. Chugging milk might be seen as beneath the dignity of a First Officer. Then he realized the glass in his hand was empty, and they couldn't know what it had held. Reassured, he nodded at them. "Good evening."

"Good evening, Commander." Delaney's eyes opened a bit wider, and she glanced at Kim. "I guess we're early."

"You're right on time," Sam said. "Feel free to check out the buffet. Chef has outdone herself."

Kim had an odd expression on his face, but said only, "Thanks. Looks good."

As they started toward the table, Delaney looked back over her shoulder at Sam and raised a finger to her upper lip. Sam touched his own and his finger came away with a visible white film. A milk moustache. He had a milk moustache, just like a kid caught in the cookie jar. *Things like this never happened to Will Riker*, he thought. Mustering as much decorum as he could, he returned the glass to the replicator, tossed out the remains of his egg and went to find another napkin as quickly as possible.

By the time he had wiped his face, a phalanx of other officers had arrived, including Odyssey's chief engineer, Lt. Homer James, the helm officer, Lt. Korbut, and CMO Alyssa Ogawa. She came over to him immediately.

"Looks good," she said with a smile. "Where's Captain La Forge?"

"In his ready room, talking to HQ. Their timing is always impeccable." He leaned close and said softly, "Stay away from the deviled eggs."

"What's the matter? Too spicy for you?"

"Too spicy for anyone," he protested.

She grinned. "Sam, you think a chile relleno is too spicy for anyone."

"That's a hot pepper!"

"You may be a big, tough commander but your taste buds are wimpy. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." Alyssa looked at him knowingly. "You grabbed a glass of milk, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "My doctor suggested it."

"I better give you a supply of antacids when we reach the Delta Quadrant. You didn't try any of Ambassador Neelix's dishes at the dedication ceremony. You're going to be miserable."

"Don't try to tell me the *food* in the Delta Quadrant is dangerous." He rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Alyssa, you sound like all the reporters who couldn't stop fawning on the Voyager crew."

"Well," she said slowly, "it appears that Jenny Delaney and Harry Kim don't have a problem with those eggs."

He followed her gaze and saw that Delaney and Kim, standing with Lt. James, were indeed each holding a small plate with the deviled eggs. To his chagrin, Delaney popped one into her mouth without so much as a blink.

"You know," Alyssa said slowly, "Jenny Delaney reminds me of someone, but I can't quite place it. What do you think?"

"Can't help you." Sam shrugged. "Looks like the Captain is going to be longer than he expected. Time to mingle, Lys. He wants the senior staff to get to know each other."

She smiled broadly. "Then I believe I'll go talk to Lieutenant Commander Kim. He and Delaney are just friends, did you know that? He's completely unattached. Have fun."

Without missing a beat, she walked over to a small group that had developed around Harry Kim, mostly assistant department chiefs who had just arrived. One of them was Jack O'Connell, assistant chief of Security and another Voyager alum. Sam decided to pass on that group for the moment. It wasn't that he had anything against the former Voyagers, but he wasn't up for another conversation rehashing the extraordinarily marvelous adventures of that ship.

He snagged a glass of wine from a tray carried by a circulating waiter as he crossed the room to join Tatya Korbut. Although he'd never met her before this assignment, she was a veteran of the War and at least they would have something in common to talk about.

Korbut acknowledged his presence with a brief nod. "Commander."

"Lieutenant," he returned. "Have you settled in?"

"Quite. I've learned to travel light."

Her words were polite enough, but something about her tone suggested she'd rather be someplace else. Sam looked at her closely. Korbut was only 50 years old, but her prematurely gray hair, cut too short to flatter her angular face, and slight frown added years to her appearance. "We're glad to have you aboard," he said. "You've got an excellent record."

"I'm a good pilot."

"You're more than good," he said, smiling his most charming smile. "You don't get to be an ace against the Jem'Hadar unless you're exceptional."

"I was motivated."

"Weren't we all?" He was feeling increasingly frustrated by her terse responses. "You were at the Battle of Cardassia Prime. So was I."

She regarded him for a moment with unwavering gray eyes. Her face was as expressionless as a Vulcan's. Finally she said, "Forgive me, Commander, but I don't enjoy talking about the War. And since I was loading cargo bays on private freighters while you were in Starfleet Academy, we can't reminisce about the good old days."

His brows shot up. "Are you always this blunt with superior officers?"

Her face pinkened slightly but otherwise she remained unruffled. "Sorry, sir. I meant no offense."

"But - " he prompted.

After a moment's hesitation, she continued, "But...social functions make me uncomfortable. I have almost nothing in common with anyone in this room and I can't imagine a more artificial way to develop a friendship. Frankly, I would have passed except that it would have been an insult to Captain La Forge."

"I think you're exaggerating. We all have something in common or we wouldn't be here."

Her mouth twisted into the closest thing to a smile he had seen from her yet. "Oh? I'm here because I had nothing left to go back to, once the War was over. Is that why you're here, Commander?"

If he could have pulled his words back, he would have. He knew from her personnel record that she had enlisted in Starfleet during the War, after the Jem'Hadar had destroyed the small space station she and a small group of independent freighters called home. "No," he said quietly. "It's not." Then he smiled. "Do you like spicy food?"

"What?" Korbut looked confused by the sudden change in the direction of the conversation, but rallied at once. "Actually, yes. I do."

Sam sighed. "Then you've got something in common with Dr. Ogawa, and apparently Kim and Delaney as well. Try the deviled eggs. You'll love them."