(I do apologize about how long this took. It was almost twice the length before I realized it was navel grazing. Having two people with ADD working on a project isn't the best. Hah!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and will likely never do so, it belongs to Paramount whom I pay money to watch Star Trek on!)

Guest Suite 3024, Deck 3 - Stardate 41185.17 (14:19 Hours)

I have to admit that I am getting more comfortable with the body I am currently in despite it being quite a bit different than my own. It's been nearly a week since the change. The experience is still rather unsettling, and I have been given sessions with Deanna Troi to begin at 15:00 hours every two standard days bi-weekly. I think this will do wonders for me. Deanna is a Betazoid and they are known to have hugely empathic psychic fields that can align with someone else and allow for a deeper understanding of their state of mind.

Particularly powerful mentalists, Betazoid or otherwise, like Deanna can even cast their senses far into space and detect the state of mind of another crew or even an alien species that is unable to communicate verbally (I.E. Giant Space Worms). This talent is incredibly powerful, which does explain why it was relegated to a rather ancillary 'the enemy is shooting at us because they are angry' power. As fascinating as it is , I have to admit to being glad I don't have it. The temptation to be manipulative with such a gift would be too great.

Another not so odd but at the very same time extremely strange thing that happened was the looks I got from the crew and civilians alike once the 'not so secret secret' got out from Sick Bay. Now, I'm not one to put stock in looks, but holy guacamole those looks were venomous! Some were lusty and many were just as curious as all get out, but I suppose looking like a very, very handsome Irishman could do that.

It was actually rather nice to be looked at regardless of whether or not the attention was negative. Perhaps it was this body's nascent narcissistic tendencies but I liked the attention.. Attention was addicting, and I found I craved it. In my most recent session with Deanna, I was told that this was perfectly normal to feel.

Thank God for that. I was worried I was going crazy already.

Despite all the extra attention, I spent a good portion of my first day out of the brig reading. You really have no idea how much you've missed until you read the decade's most common texts. Now, you might ask 'John, what did you read!? History? Protocols? Pornographic material?!' The answer is a resounding 'No'. I pulled multiple technical manuals so I could learn how to use everyday items on the ship.

If you think that's boring, you are painfully accurate. Boring, but informative. It was no thrilling page-turner, but when you cannot find the bathroom in your own quarters, those manuals rocket to the top of your must-read list at warp speed.

A chime at the door to my new temporary quarters startled me from my dreams. I was surprised to discover two Vulcan security officers outside. Apparently, I hadn't fully understood what Picard had implied and now, despite my honest intention to go talk to the Captain, these men were here for my compliance to his summons.

Getting dressed was a remarkably simple affair. Clothing options were not solely 'unitards' and 'jumpsuits. In fact, the entire library of human fashion was available- and some non-human fashions as well! However, as with most things, the computer automated such a great deal of the process that it was uncannily fast at offering algorithmic suggestions. My measurements had been uploaded, a 3-D model showing me in the clothing was rendered out, and I made my selections in no time at all.

To note; cargo pants, a wife beater, a light jacket, and some combat boots were available options that I absolutely took. I looked good now; I might as well dress however I wanted. Distracted by this new confidence and strangers at the door, I did panic for a moment when I realized I couldn't find my phone or wallet. Quickly, I remembered that neither of those items existed anymore and felt a brief pang of sadness at their loss. Namely the emotion prevailed because I wanted access to my old voice and text messages. I missed my sister, my dad, heck- I really missed my writing partner.

I wanted to look up what happened to her at some point, but it could wait.

Once I was ready and out the door, the security officers took prisoner escort positions, and we began the march to the turbolifts. They were a tad standoffish, so there wasn't much idle chit-chat, but I managed to get their names out of them at the very least! Kuv and Tik, they had stated simply. Tik seemed amused when I asked where Tok was. He had a ghost of a smile on his face. Maybe. Hopefully.

I really should apologize later for trying to get them to laugh. I know they're not big into it, but it would make me feel better.

Bridge, Deck 1 - Stardate 41185.18 (14:27 Hours)

Getting to the Captain's Ready Room was a bit harrowing. I hadn't been properly introduced to the other crew aboard and the realization hit me the second I was escorted to the bridge.

I noticed two things as I was being led through the space; the first being that Lieutenant Yar was dumbfounded to see me there. The second was that Ensign Worf was really, really, really freakin' big. Interestingly enough, Commander Data seemed to be just as good at multitasking here as he was in the show. It had managed to portray him in an uncannily accurate way.

Data's eyes locked onto mine and he gave me a quick once over before returning to his duties. He seemed unwilling to ask a question at that moment, but I knew many would come- he'd recognized that I'd recognized him. Oh boy. That was going to be fun to explain to him! Unfortunately, I had bigger fish trying to fry me with their eyes. Lieutenant Yar growled, stalking toward me with a frown creasing her stern features. "You! What did you do!? The captain ordered me to have you brought up here," she hissed at me.

"Ah, no idea." I gave the prettiest smile I could. This got an even more dour expression on the woman's face. My hands went up in a placating gesture. "I honestly don't know, Security Chief. I was just told to come."

Yar's eyes narrowed some and she relented. "Alright. Kuv, Tik; I have it from here. He didn't cause any trouble on the way here did he?"

Tik thought for a moment, before speaking with that lilting but firm tone that Vulcans all seemed to have. "Other than bad jokes about an entertainment platform? No."

Kuv simply nodded at his partner's statement. "No Security Chief. He did not cause trouble as regulations would call it."

A nod from Yar sent both men away. I felt the dread well up as she motioned for me to walk ahead of her toward the Ready Room. "No funny business, O'Bannon."

"That, Lieutenant, is the least of my concerns right now." I gritted. I could feel Worf's eyes boring into my back like daggers as we passed. That man's gaze felt like it could kill, and my hackles rose some. Plinking the Ready Room, I waited.

"Come." Picard's voice was strong enough to carry even through the door.

Simply doing as I was asked, I entered the Ready Room and realized whom I had not seen on the Bridge. Commander Riker was sitting in the only other seat in the room besides the captain's chair, looking rather thoughtful as Picard cleared his throat to get my attention. "Good of you to join us, Mister O'Bannon. I understand you have been reading quite a bit to familiarize yourself with the operation of… just about everything." Picard's expression was one of mild amusement. "It is quite the lengthy list of manuals. Why?"

I mulled this over a moment, remembering that Yar had not been dismissed. Did they think I was plotting something? I took a breath. "Well, Captain, if I am going to live in the far-flung future I might as well understand how my appliances are going to work. I, ah…" I clearly looked annoyed as I trailed off, having forgotten my train of thought. It was all thanks to the dawning realization of how reading all the appliance manuals might look to security. I had an entire spiel about a toaster too! Best not go into it.

"It's fine, Mister O'Bannon, I understand wanting to be able to use things properly." Picard smiled warmly, clearly pleased I had taken initiative.

"If only some of our allies would read their technical manuals, we might not have to come to their aid nearly as often," mused Riker. His expression wasn't as schooled as the captains and a genuinely mirthful smile was on his face.

Picard motioned for me to sit, and while I did so he pulled out a PADD to look over. "You sent me a rather formal request for reading materials of a non-civilian leaning. Upon review, I find I need to question the unique nature of the subject matter."

Riker was listening but offering no input. It seemed he was gauging me.

"Alright, Captain," I smiled, as open and non-threatening as I could be. "What would you like to know?" I wasn't worried; not about being denied. Even if I was, I had a plan for that.

The Captain motioned to Riker. "Commander, I think you were the one that brought this to my attention?"

With that Riker's genial and rather sunny disposition turned dour and stormy. "You've requested Close Quarters Combat training documentation for - it says here 'enrichment and exercise'?" He tapped his PADD with a frown now. "You've even drawn up an extensive training plan. You have undeniably put a great deal of thought into this request, so I would like to know why CQC is so important to you."

That did take me by surprise. I had been aware that the CQC manuals were just above civilian grade, but it sounded like they weren't even on the table. I had to rethink my strategy to ensure events didn't happen that would be… dumb. So, with a somewhat dry tongue, I rephrased what I had been planning to say, and adjusted my reasoning.

"I had hoped that by being able to fully control my strength and speed, I would be able to keep myself safe. Despite..." I paused, looking rather sheepish at this point. "Despite you clearly having my best interests in mind, it is painfully obvious that I scare people living on your ship. Fear leads to Anger, Anger leads to Hate, and Hatred always leads to Violence. I would much rather be able to safely deal with an opponent without harming them, rather than…" I looked at my hands which were so heavy now and grimaced. "... Rather than accidentally break them."

Everyone in the room, even Lieutenant Yar, looked perplexed for a moment before realizing the implications of what I meant. Considering what I was now? This observation of mine made the captain's nose rankle. Riker looked green in the gills, and Yar's reflection looked like she was going to be sick. So, I decided to double down. "Non-lethal take down techniques are always worthwhile to learn. Plus, CQC training means I can be the Lieutenant's punching bag."

The good cheer in my voice got a soft 'ugh' from the Security Chief, bringing a grin back to Riker's face. Oh… damn it he knows about that bit of maneuvering. I had a feeling he was going to talk to me about it later. The captain cleared his throat to call attention back to the matter at hand. "That is, if Lieutenant Yar is up to it. I know she has a class three times a week," I finished, grinning.

With that I turned to look at the Security Chief and noted that she was actually giving it some thought. I could see her mulling over the options in her head. This was a different face from her normal, rather dour and angry face, and it wasn't her 'I'm frustrated' face, either. This was one of actual, deep, thought. bout thirty or so seconds later, she looked up at me and then grunted. She wasn't shouting or glaring at me; clearly that meant she wasn't annoyed! That was good - right?

"I need more time to see if I can take on a new student. I'll contact you when I've had time to look," she stated, matter-of-factly. "Currently I'm not slated for relief of duty for a few hours yet. You'll know by tomorrow morning."

Oh, there was a genuine smile there! Seems that I might have touched upon something she was comfortable sharing with me. She did school her features after a few moments however.

Picard hummed a little. "Alright. You also seem to have requested… learning with the students? Please elaborate."

That got me to wince. "Well… along with considering that my mathematics and algebraic skills are that of a fifth grader at best, I thought doing so might normalize my interactions with the other civilians. I need to socialize with people I'm likely to be around for a while."

Then I deadpanned. "Plus, if the kids say I'm not scary, or if God forbid they actually like me, it'll mean the parents will stop shooting me with their eye lasers. It makes me incredibly self-conscious."

Riker stifled a chuckle and even the captain had to school himself. "I hadn't thought of that." Picard huffed at this point. "I can concede that point; however, you will need a probationary period and at least one security officer with you at all times for the next month."

"Standard?" I asked. That got a nod. "All right; more than acceptable considering…well, what I am."

"And just what are you, Mister O'Bannon?" Picard asked with an arched eyebrow.

I eyed the formidable man for a moment in silence, and though I had to chuckle, it was a mirthless and somewhat grating thing. "Captain, I might not be a warrior, a soldier, or even a scholar. Lamentably, I am a threat, simply due to the body I am in, and what it represents." My shoulders slumped. "If at all possible, I'd rather not be considered a threat toward the folks showing me kindness and compassion in the uncharted depths of space. You know?" This, at least, seemed to be something that everyone in the room could agree on.

After this initial interrogation the captain went into details I don't really feel like recounting in great detail. In summary, I was basically being given orders to learn all I could. Despite not falling under the command of Starfleet, I wasn't going to contradict the man on this and readily acquiesced to the command with gusto.

Now, when I was dismissed, Lieutenant Yar took the point behind me and I got, once again, to look at the bridge crew. And it was at this point Data spoke up. "Lieutenant Yar is he the 'survivor' that you were talking about with Ensign Worf?"

Now, Yar did pause- she looked a little conflicted. But she nodded. "Yes, he is."

"I noticed that he recognized me immediately upon entering the bridge proper." And he turned his head to look at me searchingly. "I find it strange that he would recognize me as I am not in a public database."

This got Yar to look at me once again. Renewed vigor in her desire to find something more to dislike about me flared in her eyes. "I see. Thank you, Lieutenant Commander."

"You are welcome." Data turned back to his task at hand without dismissal. That was interesting! Data was almost exactly like he was in the actual show. A little more robotic in nature but…

Yar was giving me a glare that could cut me in half if she had laser eyes. "You need to wait here until Kuv and Tik are able to retrieve you." She then tilted her head some. "I've noticed something a little peculiar about you, O'Bannon."

Oh, this I had to hear, "Alright, I'll bite Yar, what have you noticed?"

She flashed a rather irritated look at me; and Worf nearly snarled, moving forward just a step. Enough to make my eyes widen. "You will show the proper amount of respect due her rank!"

I flinched, but I gave Worf a frown in response, "I am."

The glower that Worf settled me with could have turned me into ash if he had Omega Beams. Good god, and I thought Michael Dorn was a scary guy. This dude was a full-on Klingon! That said, I did turn my attention back to Tasha, "Alright, what have you noticed Lieutenant?"

She laughed, "Goodness, Worf, you need to yell at him more! That was almost polite!"

Worf looked smug as hell. Goodness, well, at least they're relaxing some around me. That's nice. But the Lieutenant huffed and shook her head, "Despite being from the twentieth century you seem to have some… almost inimical knowledge that shouldn't be a thing. I noticed you knew how touch screens and the PADD worked without even needing instruction. Yet, you also thank the computer; can't figure out a replicator, and apparently have 'desert world gangster' as an aesthetic."

I pouted. This got an actual laugh from the woman. I snorted. "You're so mean! I haven't even plotted to drive us to the Mall Planet yet and here you are, accusing me of fashion crimes…"

But I did frown a little. Thinking about what she was implying. It was rather obvious to even a slightly observant person that I knew more than I should. But; thankfully… that was when Kuv and Tik showed up. The Lieutenant dismissed us three and now? I had an escort that would see that I wasn't getting into trouble, flirting with the wrong women, or trying to do anything like eat cushions or graffiti the walls. Which was all fine and dandy.

However, I realized that once I got back to my quarters, I had a lot of reading to do. So, I did the one thing that popped into my head. Once we were on our way, I turned to Kuv, "Out of curiosity, where would you start if you basically had… no functional knowledge of the time where you were in?"

The Vulcan, as we were walking, considered my question. He didn't speak for a good minute or so at this point either.

But, as the Turbolift managed to come to a stop he did speak. "The most Logical step would be to read the proper protocols and etiquette of whom I would be staying with." I was rather surprised by just how… dark and stormy this guy's voice was. He sounded like fury just barely bridled under his brow. But, he did that Vulcan thing of raising an eyebrow at me in question.

As if challenging me to prove he was wrong.

I accepted defeat with grace. "Well, that is prudent I suppose. Are there any recommendations I can get?"

Now, I wasn't an expert on Vulcan expressions- but they were just near human enough that muscles were 'somewhat the same' that I could see a measure of surprise on the man's face. He schooled it quickly however and nodded. "You should see if you can requisition a field manual for Starfleet Regulations for Civilians. In addition, if you are being thorough, I would suggest Vulcan, Andorian, and Orion etiquette texts. This will provide an overview of what you can expect for many encounters."

"No Klingon?" This was asked with a tinge of amusement.

"No, they are a-typical of interactions in Starfleet. However, I was not aware you knew what a Klingon was, Mister O'Bannon." Kuv's statement with that blistering, but sedate, monotone had me blanch internally.

I did thank him once we reached my quarters. However, a last parting question was on my mind. "Kuv, Tik, I have to ask a rather serious question of you both. Are you two assigned to be my guards?"

Kuv and Tik didn't 'share a look' but there was a side eye there. Tik spoke first. "I do not believe we are. Would you prefer that we were?"

Kuv cleared his throat. "It might not be prudent to ask, but it is understandable, I do not know my rotation for this week. We very well might be your escorts."

At this point, I nodded and ducked back into my room.

I had a lot of reading to do.