Discovery

The Slipstream slowed to a stop and the ship returned to normal space. Shaka's console began beeping a warning.

"Hmm. Looks like the main deflector has desynchronized with the slipstream drive. I'd like to check it out, Captain," Shaka said. She was surprising herself; she had been on good behavior for the past few weeks.

"Sounds like a plan," Devore responded. Take ***Shadow*** with you. It never hurts to have more than one person who knows how to work that slipstream drive.

"Then maybe I can take a day off, sir," Shaka grinned.

Shaka and ***shadow*** worked in engineering. Shaka was happy to have an extra pair of hands, as the synchronization required being in two places at once.

"So... what happens if the ship and the slipstream are out of synch ?"

"We have a bumpy ride," Shaka responded.

"So if they were inverted..."

"The differential would be too great; we'd tear the ship apart." Shaka responded. "Why do you ask ?"

"Just curious," ***shadow*** replied.

Shaka, however, was somewhat suspicious. She was suspicious of everything; in prison you learn not to take everything for face value.

"You're pretty good with the computer." She remarked.

"I know my way around." Her co-worker responded, fingers working nimbly at the console. "I think I got it."

"Checking... yep. Hit the nail on the head."

"Maybe I could help you out sometime ?" He asked.

"Now and again, sure... but I don't work well in groups." Shaka responded.

"Of course." He responded.

"What's that supposed to mean ?" Shaka asked.

"Nothing." Was the quiet reply. "I can't wait to get back to Earth."

"Why's that ?" Shaka asked.

"No reason."

Shaka began snickering. "There's an Admiral... but I can't place his name," Shaka said. "It's... Bird... Burt..."

"Beard."

"Ah, yes. Admiral Beard," Shaka said, stepping closer to her partner. "Threatened to throw me into San Francisco Bay once. How was I supposed to know he was so possessive of his replicator ?"

"He's not that bad." Was the response.

Shaka, however, heard more than four words. She tuned in on his heartbeat, which had slightly picked up pace. Squinting, she saw slight sweaty residue from his fingerprints on the console. *Struck a nerve.* She thought.

"All right." Shaka said to herself. "Let's learn a little more about our friend." She said, working at the console over the replicator, trying to use it to gain access to the main computer.

<LCARS access granted.> The computer announced.

Shaka jumped slightly in excitement. It would be slow moving from here; a replicator panel didn't offer much in terms of input speed. "Access the selected personnel files, authorization Shaka Gamma Alpha Seven."

The screen blanked and returned. "Hmm... nothing out of the ordinary here. Let's look at selected officer's incoming messages."

<That function is not accessible to Lieutenant JG Shaka.> The computer responded.

"Fine. I'll do it the hard way." Shaka said. She knelt under the replicator and began manipulating isolinear chips. *I'm surprised I still remember this trick.* She thought. After much trial and error, she finally got the right sequence.

The screen blanked again, and began scrolling a long list. "A lot of letters from 'Grandma' here." She said to herself. "Computer, access this message file." Shaka said, selecting one of the messages.

<That is not permitted from this terminal,> The computer responded.

"This is a matter of intership security. Override, authorization Shaka Gamma Alpha Seven." Shaka commanded.

<Negative,> The computer responded. After a brief pause, it displayed the UFP logo. *Weird,* Shaka thought. The screen blanked for a brief moment. It returned with an image of Admiral Beard. His orders played in a chilling tone of voice.

Shaka's antennae perked up; someone just entered. "Computer, full lights." She responded. The lights turned all the way up to maximum safe level, but Shaka still didn't see anyone. "I know you're there. Shaka to ... " She said. Suddenly, she felt a slight prick in her neck. She reached up and pulled out a dart.

"She'll be out cold for a couple of days. She's got a lot of toxin floating around her system." The EMH said.

"Any idea what could've caused it ?" Devore asked, standing over her.

"An engineer checked out her replicator; apparently she made a bad repair and a glass of water came out poisonous."

*She always said she wasn't an engineer,* Devore thought. "But the computer won't replicate toxins," Devore responded.

"Some of the isolinear chips were out of place. They may have altered the computer's safety protocols."

"And this ?" Devore asked, pointing to a small point on her neck.

"The glass was broken at her side when she was recovered; I haven't seen anything to say she didn't prick herself on a piece somehow."

"Why can't you use an antitoxin ?" Devore asked.

"The one in her system reacts violently to the general antitoxin. It would take a couple days to synthesize an antitoxin specific to the one in her system and specific to her Andorian body chemistry. By then she'll be awake."

"In other words, we're without a slipstream drive specialist."

"Actually, ***shadow*** volunteered to take her place. He claims to have done extensive research on the project and thinks he's up to the task.

"Well, that probably makes him the most qualified for the job." Devore said.