Xel was at her post and somewhat before schedule. Thomas Darson was on his shift and she purposefully set hers directly after his to arrive early and get a feel for the similar yet still different console. She was his superior officer yet he was going to be her teacher. Thomas was hesitant at first but carried out those orders.

He had finally broken himself from looking in the direction of the captain, the Klingon second in command or to whoever else was in command, awaiting confirmation to proceed. Whoever that was, would only hesitantly carry out Captain Kelethan's orders and tell Darson to do as she said. Captain's orders.

Hesitation, and resentment; those were two things Xel was already feeling from some of the crew as her first days on board the ship ticked away. She had a clear idea of how much the Borg were disliked. She stayed up all night her first night, studying all she could about the Borg. Her studies fell mostly on logs written by Captains Picard and Janeway (now Admiral Janeway) and even picked up information about a human that served aboard the Voyager that was deassimilated.

That individual was the closest Xel would ever come to meeting someone that even felt the slightest bit the way she did. But Xel was a Borg, not assimilated then had the process reversed. She was born and raised Borg and that concept was one of discussion since much of the crew still could not believe their eyes and ears despite the living proof that was standing before them. Xel felt something like an attraction at a variety show.

That was how her life was going to be. That was how life was for her upon entering Starfleet the first time around and that was how life was going to be aboard the USS Salasusa. Sooner or later, her challenge would expand to the Federation and then on to universal proportions.

And that thought alone kept her mind from fully staying in the now. She was an hour into her shift. Thom had departed a short time ago and left her to her duties. He did not even ask if she understood or had any questions. She was expected to failed. The same situation as before. The once and again Captain Kelethan was sitting around doing some captainy things. Xel was glad he was not giving out orders and that they were not engaged in some drill or real world excitement, otherwise he would have been yelling at her or kicking her off the bridge for her somewhat inexperience with the controls.

Things were labled different, contained within different menus and submenus. This was the Tactical station but it was laid out different. It took time to unlearn what she knew and learn something new but the calm and uneventful day proved adequate in shortening this learning curve. Xel was getting the hand of this new terminal.

A display at her station showed a technical manual that she studied intently. She would also, at times, just stare at the words and her thoughts would drift away.

How were things going in her universe? Did it even exist at this time? Could she get back as though she had never left? Was the Imperial Federation going after her family? Was the DKR Triad successful in defeating the Federation? So many unanswered questions and no way to make them become answered.

Every now and then, a light would flash or a bleep would sound and she would snap back to it, continuing her duties. But her mind would revert, just as fast, back to her troubles and the challenges ahead. She had to get to know the ship's crew, but more importantly, her crew, the security and tactical personnel beneath her. They were a team and a team with a leader they did not trust or even know for that matter. Xel would have to work on them first.

Do a formal introduction. Tell them everything about herself and let them ask their questions, no matter how accusing, demeaning, racist, or hurtful. They were only questions, filled with words. Stick and stones. But she had a metallic graft over her skeleton. Her bones were fully protected. Still, she needed to diffuse any resentment, alter opinions, calm the nerves and anxiety.

She did find some amazement when she met with Soldat for the first time. She divulged her experiences during the battle of Bajor trying to determine exactly how she arrived in this universe. Vulcans were the personnel of choice when it came to science so she was going to leave it with him. Her amazement however was Soldat himself. His manner, method of speech, total lack of emotion. She tried to hide it, but was astonished almost each time he looked at her or spoke. It was the Romulans who were the unemotional, logic, and scientific minds in her universe.

Aside from that, the ship was going to get very small and very fast. Two men, one she avoided and one she resented, were both alive and well.

Gerhard Terrell was the one she avoided, at least, in her reality. He operated out of Starfleet and was seldom on the ship. This one was the same, but was assigned to the Salasusa for a reason that even Captain Kelethan himself did not seem to know. The man looked the same and acted something similar and she simply maintained her knack for avoiding the man.

Xel went out of her way to take another corridor, to shield her eyes or storm past as though late for a meeting or having to tend to a matter of utmost importance. Of course this Terrell was completely in the dark about her reasons why. The Terrell she knew, the dead Terrell, knew exactly why.

The other was of course Dangremon Herschel. Consulting her internal chronograph, Xel realized it was almost exactly two weeks since that day on the Lookout. This Herschel would certainly know nothing about it at all. She did have a refreshing thought that perhaps he was one of the opposites that she had encountered thusfar while on board, but she could not bring herself to fully believe it. They would certainly talk at some point. In the mean time though, she would stick to her studies and learn all she could about this place.

Xel was not in the mood to seek out the two men and deal with these unsettled relationships they had no idea even existed. But sooner or later, the ship would get a little too small and one or both would show up almost everywhere.

Her shift ended. The hours went away without incident. The Klingon was in command as she departed. In the waning hours they only shared brief glances but no words. Each time, he looked on the verge of murdering her. She wanted to apologize for shooting him, but this was not the place or the time.

Returning to her quarters, Xel resumed her studies into Starfleet regulation, technical manuals for the universe's Sovereign Class starships, and of course the 085 issue.