Touch.

It's incredible really. Your nerves coming alive as you press against mass, as you press against temperature. Your brain scans through its database as it takes on such a barrage of information.

Touch. It's the sensation of existence.

I run my hand against the walls of Voyager and rely of my sensation of existence. The growl of the warp engine emits in a low baritone as I continue on deep into the bowels of my ship. I am fully aware that as I place one foot in front of the other I follow the final foot path of one BE'lanna Torres. I feel her with me.

I stop. I look down at the PADD filled with my former chief engineers notes. I know I'm getting close. I can feel it in there air.

"I feel like I'm sneaking out of the house while my parents are asleep." I murmur to the air

"You? Sneak out? You surprise me, Captain" I can almost hear BE'lanna retort from somewhere beyond.

"You would be surprised. I was a little firecracker in the Academy. If my father knew half of the mischief I got up to he would have had a stroke."

"Kissed a few to many boys? Went dancing after curfew?"

"I once broke into the Dean's office and changed my schedule around so I could sleep in."

"Were you ever caught?"

"Of course not."

"You knew how to cover your tracks?"

"First rule of mischief, really."

" could have had the makings for a good Maquis."

I can't help but smile. My poor father must be dizzy from rolling in his grave so many times.

I see it now, just a glimmer, the wall only ripples ever so slightly. The only sign of a temporal flux.

"Oh my god" I breathe "This is bigger than we thought."

I had been taking a tally. I found the first six stops BE'lanna had listed where she found a "patch" of temporal flux. Not a large area, but just enough to notice something was off if you're looking for it. This is the fifteenth flux I have found.

Usually, a temporal flux would be in much larger in size, it could be a single room up to half of the ship. But no, this time the flux's appear in the nooks and cranny's. Sometimes they will disappear but will always come back in due time. In the hustle of limping Voyager across the Delta Quadrant, the flux's are infrequent and small enough that naturally any of the crew would miss it. Any of the crew, except for a very shrewd engineer who live in the details….lived in the details.

I kneel down next to the contorting corner as I scan from a safe distance.

"Six centimeters"

"Roughly the same size as the others."

"I imagine it won't grow in size like the other's as well."

"But why!? Why in patches? Why like this?"

"The patches come up at random, so it's unlikely for this to be a calculated attack."

"No nebula's we have punched through lately….shockingly."

"One more out of you and I might have to bump you down to Ensign." I chuckle

"Can't bump down a ghost" She teases

My face falls. Her silence is enough of an apology. We must carry on. No time for tears. Is there ever time? I swear it has become my new mantra.

I lean back on my heels as I come back to reality. I, The Captain, am prowling about my ship in secret. My crew assuming I have locked myself away in my ready room, my commbadge masking my bio sign thanks to the notes of my once tricky engineer. Now I sit here in the bowels of my ship and find my self talking to a person who is no longer here.

They say grief hits you in stages, in little moments, instead of all at once. A form of mental survival I would assume. I just can't decide if these little moments are bouts of complete and unforgiving clarity, like a cold splash of water crashing against your face. Or if these little moments are when the truth is too much and your sanity breaks. You would assume with the realization that I am talking to air, that I have found clarity. But I disagree. The fact of the matter is, as I sit here in the silence of my ship, I am painfully aware that my sanity is slowly slipping away.

I check the time. I check my notes. I control my shuddered breaths. I have what I need and its time to get back.

Turning on my heel, I take a backwards tour of the last whereabouts of BE'lanna. I do so quickly and with less precision. I wind my way up through the jefferies tubes and thank my luck for not encountering an unsuspecting crewman working away at some faulty connection or simply scrubbing a plasma relay. I make it almost to an exit when I hear a click and the whoosh of air pressure releasing from its confinement at the exit door swings open. Seven leans down and pokes her head in to see her very bewildered, wide eyed captain staring back up at her. Seven simply raises an eyebrow.

"Captain."

"Seven."

"Are you lost?"

"No, Seven."

"Do you need any of my assistance?"

"No. Thank you, Seven."

I inched forward in order to make a quick escape when another face popped into view. Naomi Wildman's lovely blue eyes were suddenly a mere inch from mine.

"Captain?"

"Miss Wildman"

"Arn't you supposed to be in your ready room?"

Damn. Caught red handed. I was about come up with some sad excuse when something glimmering in her eye caught me be surprise. It was excitement. It was mischief. Mischief.

"Naomi?" I ask slowly "At what time do classes end for you?"

"This is my last one!" she replies gleefully

"Pop by my office when you're done. I'll be needing my assistant today."

"Aye Captain!"

I take joy in the way her small figure stands a little taller when I address her by her unofficial title. I clamber out of the tube and quickly find a corner for me to transport back to my ready room.

Long wait. Short Chapter. I know Im the worst. But more to come my lovely readers. Thank you for your patience and sweet comments. - RB