Thanks for the reviews!!

This is a very strange chapter. It was inspired a little by a book I read a loooong time ago. Enjoy and please review D

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The lights seemed to have an annoying habit of flickering every time the armory officer looked up. Malcolm Reed didn't pay any attention to it, though. He was much more interested in keeping that strange emotional feeling that seemed to attack him from the inside under control. Was it nervousness? Or maybe fear? Whatever it was, Malcolm knew it would be far better off without it. Unwillingly his hand searched for his phase pistol at his side.

He stopped walking and turned to look at Daniels who quickly took his place behind the transporter controls. Daniels gave him a small nod of encouragement before Malcolm stepped onto the platform. As Daniels' hands flew over the controls, Malcolm noted that he seemed to be doing this for the 100th time. Though he had no idea what Daniels was doing exactly, he trusted him to do it right.

He looked up. The lights flickered. He sighed and stared down at his feet. They had a plan, they had been talking about it all night..or day. Whatever it was. And Malcolm was going to execute the plan. Simple as that.

"Are you ready?" Daniels asked when he was done making his preparations. Of course I'm not ready. Malcolm thought and swallowed, but gave the tiniest of nods anyway. Daniels flashed him a smile and looked back at the console.

"Here we go..." He said, and Malcolm could only feel the feeling of fear, because he was certain it was fear now, increase. It seemed like a cold hand had clutched his hearth and had not intention to release it anytime soon. Before Malcolm could return the smile he saw the room disappear. However, it was not accompanied with the familiar feeling of his molecules being compressed in a data stream. This time it seemed completely different, as if someone was tucking on his arms and legs before spinning him around really fast. Next thing he knew was stumbling into another room.

Wherever he was, he was sure it wasn't the station he was supposed to be. Or maybe it wasn't the time that was right. Their was a strange foul smell in the room. The second thing he noticed was the figure standing up from the table. The table was littered with pieces of paper, but Malcolm returned his attention at the person who was now making his way to him. He unwillingly did a step back as his mouth went dry.

"Bloody.." He started before the other person interrupted him.

"It's good to see myself again." The other Malcolm said and smiled, though it did not reach his eyes which looked at him sadly.Whatever Malcolm had been expecting, this wasn't it.

"Though I know how confusing this is for you at the moment, we have to hurry." The other Malcolm said, suddenly turning quite agitated. His eyes searched for the phase pistol at Malcolm's side, who still looked at him completely at loss of words.

"Shoot me." The other Malcolm quickly said and looked up again.

"What?" Malcolm asked, now alarmingly aware that he was talking to... himself.

"Problem is that we can't have two Malcolm's in one universe. The whole thing gets mixed up. We all agreed that this happened because of a power surge the moment Daniels activated the Time transport. The others died of hunger before we figured out to solve it, though." His eyes flew to the small opening which lead to another room, and Malcolm was suddenly aware where the stench had come from.

"I though you would never show up, I was afraid I wouldn't get the chance to explain it. And then the whole bloody thing would start over again." The other Malcolm was talking as quickly as possible. Though he was trying to explain it to Malcolm, he only succeeded in making him more confused.

"The thought is that the error will be resolved after you shoot me before the time corridor closes. I think it will right itself." The other Malcolm finished. Malcolm told himself to get over the shock of seeing himself, and focus on the task at hand.

"You think? So you're not sure?" Malcolm finally spoke. His head was spinning. This was bizarre.

"Well, we can't be sure. We have to find out, won't we? We don't have much time." The other Malcolm said dryly and fixed him with a stare that Malcolm recognized immediately. Stop talking, just do it.

Whatever he was to think about the situation, Malcolm didn't know. What he did know was that he wasn't in a position to argue. He thought better to listen, his eyes darted to his phase pistol. The other Malcolm closed his eyes when he noticed Malcolm had made his choice.

"Are you certain?" Malcolm asked again, while taking his phase pistol out of its holster ever so slowly. I'm going to kill him....me. This can't be happening. Malcolm thought. The other Malcolm opened one eye and glared at him.

"Of course I'm not certain! You're about to bloody shoot me. But please get over it, before I change my mind." He closed his eyes again and waited for Malcolm to shoot him. Malcolm checked the setting on his phase pistol and pointed at the other Malcolm. He stared at the other Malcolm for what seemed like an eternity, though it reality it were only seconds. His finger lingered before the trigger and for a moment the only thing what could be hearth was the heavy breathing of the other Malcolm.

Then he fired.

Malcolm blinked when he was again standing in the room, but now it was bustling with activity. Starfleet officers were happily chatting away in the mess. Because that was what the room actually was. This was definitely the worst morning he had ever had.

There was a cough behind him. "Are you going to keep standing there, lieutenant. Or are you going to get into the turbolift?" Malcolm turned to see another lieutenant looking at him with a bemused expression. He couldn't be much older than him. Still shaken by his experience only a minute before, Malcolm stepped into the turbolift and leaned against the back wall. He was going to be sick, he knew it. So much stress in such a short time wasn't healthy for anyone. The lieutenant cast him a concerned glance.

"What deck are you going?" He asked. Malcolm looked up, he wasn't feeling good. He wasn't sure if only the stress was causing this. Where did he have to go again? For a moment he searched in his memories. ...C deck? C deck, definitely. ....Was the lift spinning? He thought, before his legs gave way and he collapsed on the ground.