((ADDENDUM: I changed the last name of the CMO of the space station to Rasul. I don't normally do that, never have before, but in this case I had a good enough reason to do it.

The chapter heading is a line from the song Sleepwalker's Dream by Delain.))

'You'd think these things were ridiculous enough back in the day.' Leonard's muttered words were quiet enough to be inaudible even at the next desk. If James' grin was any indication, he had heard. And so had T'Kray, of course. She leaned slightly to her left.

'What did you expect? An ageing professor holding a lecture?' she whispered back. He huffed.

'I don't know. No. But a lecture about, you know, medical technology, some such. Absurd idea, I know.'

'Shut up, Bones. I'm trying to listen.' T'Kray raised her eyebrows.

'You know you can read the house rules and such on the space station. Those for the Morales and Mavenow.' Leonard grinned.

'Let him be all studenty if he feels like it. We'll be quiet.' James's head had turned at that, and for a moment T'Kray thought he was going to speak, but he remained silent.

The lecturer, as was usually the case in courses for larger groups, was a computer. They were only six people now, but T'Kray assumed there was no reason to make a scientist recite these rules. The worst thing about them was that they were the same rules that applied to any laboratory and to space vessels of any description. There were many of them, and so far she hadn't heard anything that had changed. What was more, these rules were something she considered was a given. The same was certainly true for her companions. The two Caitians were probably the only ones who had never heard them, but she was fairly certain that even so they weren't going to enter a Jefferies tube with open fire.

T'Kray blocked out the computer voice. She had other things to think about, starting with her task in the sickbay. The night before they hadn't had an opportunity to talk. As a Vulcan, she wasn't one to draw conclusions based solely on conjecture, but she couldn't help thinking there was something very wrong. It wasn't standard procedure to have all officers undergo a psychological evaluation. Ever odd number of years they had to call in for a checkup, but that meant that once in a while it was one person's turn. Calling them all in one by one was a different matter entirely. That might pass as occupational therapy, something to keep her busy, but there was no reason to have Leonard take blood samples. This was very rarely done nowadays and usually a sign that people were at a loss. It was definitely not a task you would give a medic whose main problem was a technological knowledge gap.

She and Leonard had launched directly into their objectives, so far without finding anything of interest. On their way back to their rooms, they had talked, but Leonard was not a Vulcan and had been tired enough without her sending his mind reeling. Now he looked ready to fall asleep, but that had more to do with the fact that the computer was just reading out rule number 78 (Security in Dealing with Classified Information towards Provisional Officers) than with fatigue.

When the screen went black a moment before the speakers died, he didn't even react for a full three seconds. Then he blinked a few times. 'What? Is this over?' James looked at him and laughed.

'Something's broken, I think. I guess they'll continue in a moment.' A door opened, revealing a young woman with a token white cloak.

'Take your lunch break now. We'll try and fix this in the meantime.'

ϡ

The two Caitians obviously preferred to keep to themselves. Jim was grateful for that. Not because he had anything against Caitians in general, or against these specific ones, but because he preferred to discuss what he needed with someone he knew. So when the Caitians sat on a table with two seats in the cafeteria, Jim carried his food outside into the courtyard, assuming the others would follow.

'So,' he said, glancing at the replicated piece of bread with slight scepticism. 'I don't trust this.' Bones snorted.

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Jim. You won't know the difference. And if you do that's in your head.' He tore his own piece in half. 'Looks the same, tastes the same, if you'd analyse it there's no difference to the real thing. But I doubt you brought us out here to discuss food. Or to stare at it.'

'No, indeed.' He leaned forward, closer to the others. 'So, what is it you're doing up on the station? Because I'm getting a feeling that they aren't at all unhappy to have a few hands they can spare.' Spock frowned slightly.

'What gave you that impression?'Jim looked straight at Spock.

'Counter question: What are you and Kresar doing?'

'We were genetically determining various endemic plants of Mavenow.'

'Bones?'

'Testing personnel for whatever I find. Sounds like an exercise to me.'

'T'Kray?' She smiled slightly.

'I'm with you, Captain. The same as Leonard, really. Test command personnel, to be more precise. And even though that might as well be an exercise, I am uncertain if that is actually the case.'

'Well, Vral and I have some real problems to deal with, and I think the same is true for you. There's a malfunctioning transporter and two broken shuttles. We ran the computer diagnosis again, but it didn't find anything wrong with the transporter. Which is weird, because it has been taken off the computer system and the shuttles are not responding to anything the computer is ordering them to do.'

'That suggests that the problem rests with the computer,' Spock said. Jim returned his gaze to him and nodded.

'Yes, but I have a feeling this isn't all. If I add your task to mine, T'Kray, that leaves me with a conclusion I hope isn't right.'

'What is that?' It was the Spock who answered.

'Tampering with the computer and the devices.' Jim nodded grimly.

'Shorter, sabotage. And as a consequence, murder. Because people died in that transporter. You, T'Kray, are apparently supposed to find out who did this, or at least, who is in a state of mind that makes him capable of something like this.' Spock opened his mouth but closed it again. Jim shook off his austere expression and managed a small smile.

'Speak up. I want to hear what you think.'

'I know that in our experience the answer is rarely innocent. However, I wish to point out that there is still a chance it was an accident, either in the computer program or in the transporter and the shuttle.' Jim contemplated this.

'Agreed. It can be a coincidence, even if it seems like a rather convenient one. But you're right, let's not forget that it is a possibility. Maybe we should consider how the science task fits into the pattern, if at all. What sorts of plants are you dealing with, Spock?'

'There is not a simple answer to that question, Captain.' Jim grinned but said nothing. This would never change, no matter how close they would become eventually. The conversation was not a personal one so Spock was in officer mode. It was quite all right, and something that had always been this way. 'They vary in type, sharing only the fact that all of them are flowering plants. Something did strike me as odd, however. They are all recent discoveries, and none too inconspicuous. Mavenow's research station has been active for over a century, but despite the rich flora of the planet, biology had not been one of the sciences practised here until thirty-three years ago. A six years old record entry states that no new plants were expected to be found near the research station. The ones we have on the Morales now were all taken from a radius of ten kilometres around this building.'

'Let's keep all this in mind, even if it doesn't make sense yet.' Jim caught Bones smirking. 'What?'

'Oh, nothing. Only you've managed to wolf down half of your highly suspicious replicated food in the time Spock talked about his plants. Doesn't seem too bad after all, does it now?' Jim grinned.

'No, not half bad.'

ϡ

When they returned to the lecture hall, the screen was still dead, and the scientist looked distinctly flustered. She told them all, quite firmly in fact, that they should return to the space station for the day, because she did not believe the computer would be in perfect working order any time soon, since until now no-one had managed to repair the malfunctioning transporter in engineering. She also hinted that people – whoever that was, precisely – needed to organise actual lecturers. Judging from the way she spoke, the idea was nothing short of outrageous.

Travel from and to the Morales was via transporter. Until that moment, they – apart from Jim – had not known there had been a malfunction. Spock glanced at Leonard, aware of his dislike of this particular means of travelling. If the doctor was afraid, he held himself well. He might be more quiet than usually, but other than that there were no signs that he was in any way preoccupied. Stepping down from the transporter platform, however, he allowed himself a sigh of relief.

'Can't blame you, Bones,' Jim said quietly. A gentle hand was placed on Spock's arm and he was steered aside. 'There's something I'd like to ask you to do, if you have a moment.'

'Of course.'

'Listen, I'd like to rule out a computer error before I tell Commander Melczuk that there's a saboteur.'

'I shall look.'

'Spock, only do this if you really have the time. You're probably busy enough.' Spock took a moment to look left and right. The transporter room was currently unmanned, and T'Kray and Leonard had already left for their sickbay. He took Jim's hand and squeezed.

'I shall make time.' Jim smiled softly and continued ambling towards the engineering section.

'Any plans for the evening?'

'None so far.'

'I brought a chess set.'

'Excellent. Maybe I can give you an answer by evening.' Before he turned left for the science department, Spock halted and for once returned Jim's smile. 'I look forward to it, Jim.'

ϡ

If Melczuk was unhappy to see Jim and Vral in her department when they should be on the planet, she didn't show it. She merely told them she didn't have time to babysit them and that they had to get by on their own that day. 'There isn't anything physically wrong,' Vral said through gritted teeth, glaring at the open transporter console in front of him. 'It should be working.' Jim pursed his lips.

'Tell that the three dead men.' He very much wanted to hit something. 'There must be something, something the computer couldn't find, Vral. These things don't just decide to take a person apart on a whim and function perfectly the next time.'

'I know that.' Jim looked up at the Caitian, who looked slightly offended.

'I didn't mean it that way.' Vral's ears twitched. 'Let's think. Did we forget anything?' Vral looked towards the ceiling.

'Targeting scanners and molecular imaging scanners are in perfect working order. You checked the pattern buffer.'

'Thrice. Nothing wrong with it.' He paused. 'Hei...' Jim fell silent and stared at Vral.

'Heisenberg compensator,' the Caitian said quietly. 'We should ask if the three men that died were moving while being beamed here. And we should …' Jim shook his head.

'If the Heisenberg compensator is compromised that makes a mess of any feed of coordinates, no matter if static or in motion. Listen. I've been wondering if maybe someone sabotaged the transporter and the shuttles.' He lowered his voice. 'Spock will check the computer for a malfunction or signs of tampering. Then we talk to Melczuk.'

'And no-one else before that. We're using the other transporter every other day.'

'My thoughts exactly.' He took a deep breath. 'I suggest we tell Melczuk we're at a loss about the transporter for the moment and move on to the shuttles.'

The shuttles, according to the computer, were in perfect working order, too. In fact, however, two of them might actually be fakes, for all the good they did anyone. The doors had been forced open with sheer physical violence, and inside them, nothing responded. The computer, however, disagreed and claimed they were ready to launch. 'It makes no sense,' Jim said defiantly, staring at the instrument that might as well be measuring the voltage of a branch. 'No sense at all. With this result the computer should report the shuttle a total loss or non-existent! There's not even a basic voltage capable of telling the ship's computer it's there.'

'So what do we do?' Jim sighed.

'Well. We've got to take this thing apart. Now I know how to do that with the old shuttles, but these I'm not certain.'

'Shouldn't we wait for Melczuk?'

'She said we shouldn't repair anything. We aren't doing that.' Vral grinned.

'True. This is a type 15 shuttlepod. See these things on the outside? They're impulse nacelles. But those can't be the problem. Now we can't open the engine just like that. But we can check the conduits.' Vral opened the panel at the back of the shuttle. 'Look.' Jim did.

'Doesn't seem to have changed much. A little more cramped, maybe.'

'Which conduits would you check?' Jim looked through the cable clutter and selected three.

'These.' Vral leaned in close.

'I agree. Same as the old ones?'

'Yes. Maybe Spock's right and I really don't need to learn everything from scratch.' Jim watched intently as Vral worked. The result didn't surprise him overly much. The engine was dead. The conduits, however, were not the reason. Vral didn't look overly dejected.

'There's still something. These shuttles have an additional power supply: sarium krellide cells.'

'And where are those?' Vral moved into the shuttle, bent down, and fumbled with the cover there. He was busy for more than a minute, removing the panel and cables, until he got to a small slot.

'Now in there … wait.' He took a small torchlight and pointed it at the slot. 'In there …' The Caitian faltered. With a sinking feeling, Jim sat on the second seat in the small shuttle and squinted into the slot.

'… is something that I'm ready to bet my life is not a power cell of any description,' Jim finished his sentence. 'Good thing there's no power. At least I can reach in there without getting zapped.' Vral nodded, and Jim produced a small black metal cube. 'Now what is that?' Vral stared at the object and shook his head.

'No idea.' Jim tossed it in the air and caught it again.

'I'll find out. Come one, let's see if we find something similar in the other shuttle.'

ϡ

Jim couldn't help grinning when he set up the chess set. For the moment he didn't care about the small black item he had placed at the back of his table or its twin he had slipped into the map's portfolio. There was a soft knock on his door. 'Come in,' he called. Spock entered with a grave expression.

'I found the time to check the computer for an error,' he said and sat down. 'There is one, but I could not remove it. That means that even if the transporter and the shuttle are repaired, I should consider it unsafe to use them. Anything that might have been overlooked would still interfere with functionality, and the computer would still report all is in perfect working order.' Jim watched as Spock made his first move.

'Any idea how that error came to be?'

'I am uncertain. It appears to be an internal error. I shall investigate if there were major changes to the programming prior to the malfunctions. If that is the case, I would say that we are indeed dealing with coincidence. If not …' Jim nodded and contemplated the chess board for a moment.

'Understood,' he said while moving a piece. He looked up at Spock with a quizzical expression.

'Then … what? What would you do? Tell … whom?' The answer came at once.

'Commodore Bligh.'

'The highest instance.' Spock nodded. Jim marvelled at the focussed look on his face and waited patiently as the Vulcan thought. His expression changed only marginally when he had made up his mind and moved another piece.

'Yes, Jim. There is something different entirely I've been wondering since I sat down at your desk. What are you doing with a nara capsule?' Jim blinked.

'A what?' Spock raised his eyebrows. He reached over to the small metal object.

'This.' Jim beamed at him. He set down the chess piece he had taken where it had been at first and ran over to his portfolio.

'I've got a second one. They were in the shuttlepods in the place where sarium krellide cells should be. Are they a power source?' Spock looked mildly confused.

'No.' He inspected the two small objects. 'They are containers, usually for secret messages. If you try to force them open, a sound is triggered that sets of the nara.'

'Nara … these conductor crystals? I thought they were a banned substance.'

'They were, but recently, nara crystals small enough to be harmless have been authorised for certain uses. They only destroy the message when they explode. If you were to hold it at that time, you would sustain second-degree burns but nothing worse.'

'How do you open these?'

'With a voice command, usually a complex and random sequence of numbers and letters. It can be programmed to be anything, however. A name, a date of birth, or something else entirely.'

'Makes sense.' Jim sighed. His chances of opening the capsules were close to zero. He had hardly picked up a chess piece when Spock caught his wrist with his left hand. 'Spock?' The Vulcan didn't let go.

'You had another piece before.' Jim blinked. He looked back down to the chess set and grinned.

'You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cheat.' A ghost of a smile flickered across Spock's face.

'I believe you.' The gentle hold on him was still there. With his right hand, Spock took the piece from him and returned it to where it had come from. His eyes were fixed on Jim's, and somehow, they had the same intense focus he had marvelled at before. Slowly, he moved Jim's hand to the table, set it down, and entwined their fingers. 'I ask you to play with your left hand, Jim. I would like to keep this one.' This was the first time the Vulcan had made a move of this kind rather than shyly responding to something Jim had initiated. He beamed at him, knowing full well that what had remained of his concentration on the game had just soared out of the non-existent window and not caring one bit.

((The nara crystals are a nod to Myst IV – Revelation.

The term Jefferies tube is a TNG onwards term. I know that. But this takes place far enough post TOS to use that word. Which actually makes it more difficult for me, because I'm really a TOS-person and don't know later terminology all too well. The same goes for the replicators. TOS had no replicators, they had food synthesisers.

I know I am not 100% consequent in direct speech with the shall/will and should/would distinction. That's a high standard thing no one does really. If you want to do it, you say I shall, you will, he/she/it will, we shall, you will, they will and the same with should/would. If you're less fussy, you can pick what you prefer for first person, second and third is always will or would. First is, if you want to sound bookish, shall or should. Spock tends to use shall, and that's why I'm doing it. But unlike not using contractions and other things he doesn't do, this is just a tendency, so I don't feel compelled to hunt down every single I will.))