Pilot Episode, Act I

The picture fades in to show a Starfleet shuttlecraft in flight, following it as it moves through space. As the camera pulls back to reveal that the ship is approaching a space station, we hear a voice, filtered through a comm system: "Gaia Station, this is the shuttlecraft USS Willamette requesting permission to dock."

"Roger, Willamette. You are clear to dock in port 14B."

The shuttle moves toward a port where a door is slowly opening, but the camera is already swinging around the station and zooming in on a set of large windows into the operations area of Gaia. We travel visually through the window and above ops, where a few people are scattered - some at computer stations, a couple standing in discussion at a holoscreen pointing to some sort of map, someone crossing to a turbolift and disappearing as the doors close behind them.

The camera seems to sink through the floor, down several levels and through a couple of lateral movements, to where the doors of the turbolift open and the person, a young man, gets out and walks briskly through the maze of a large bay area. There are stacks of boxes and barrels and various other shipping containers being methodically moved to a transporter platform sent away to somewhere. The whole place is bustling with activity.

The man we've been following arrives at docking area, which if we're looking closely, is labeled 14B. He stands expectantly, wearing a friendly expression, as the shuttle Willamette docks and the door opens. He glances at the tablet he's holding when a woman exits the shuttle. He's clearly comparing her to an image on the tablet. He moves toward her, smiling. He's quite ridiculously happy-looking, in fact.

"Captain McCurry," he says enthusiastically when he reaches her, "welcome to Gaia Station! Lt. Daniel Blakeney. Hope you had a pleasant journey from the Dauntless. Long trip in a shuttlecraft, wasn't it, sir?"

Capt. McCurry's eyes narrow slightly, possibly a little suspicious of Blakeney's exuberance. But he's already moving, leading her through the controlled chaos. "Commander Little wanted to greet you himself, but something came up. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to his office. Watch your step, sir. All of this equipment and supplies are for the Hodgkin!"

He seems very excited about that. McCurry's starting to realize this is just his natural state. She follows him to the turbolift. Blakeney continues to speak to her, his voice continuing even after the doors to the lift close.

We cut to back to ops, where the doors to the lift are just opening. Blakeney is still talking, and from the expression on McCurry's face, he's barely taken a breath since the docking bay.

The doors to an office open as they approach and a graying man of about fifty steps through. He has a careworn appearance, like he's perpetually tired because there are so many damn people in the universe, but perversely, his eyes are kind.

As Blakeney starts to introduce McCurry, Little says,"I'll take it from here, Danny."

"Yes, sir. I was just explaining to the capt--"

"Blakeney."

"Yes, sir."

Neither man is upset or tense; it's clear this sort of exchange is normal between them, and they're both fine with it.

As Blakeney happily moves on to his next exciting task, the man shakes hands with McCurry. "Dwight Little. Welcome to Gaia."

He welcomes her into the office with a gesture. Through the windows in his office, we get a dramatic look at what looks like a foreboding net of energy not far in the distance from the space station.

Audience Pool: 5

Little's head spins as he looks at her in surprise, then he laughs. His whole face suddenly looks like everyone's favorite uncle. He should laugh more often; he's good at it.

"Well, I guess that answers the question of whether you could possibly be as brazen as your reputation suggests," he says, but his expression is friendly. He waves at a chair in front of the desk and drops into the one behind it, giving her a sizing-up gaze that somehow manages not to be threatening or insulting. "Since we're on a lurid-story basis here, let me ask you something, Captain." He lets that hang a moment, possibly to give her the opportunity to object. "Are you really up for this?"

Little doesn't return her smirk. "I think you know what I meant by that question, Captain, but..." He shrugs, leaning back in his chair and smiling. "This is all above my pay grade. I'm just a washed up old officer finishing out a modest career overseeing a broken-down space station until retirement day." It's clear that this is an exaggeration, and one he relishes putting on.

"Anyway, we've assigned you and your crew quarters for when you're docked here. They aren't fancy, but they're homey. Or can be, if you put homey things inside them." He stands up. "I know you haven't had a chance to see the Hodgkin yet. Let's go--"

The doors to the office slide open. A tall man a bit older than Little but whose bearing constantly suggests the question, Don't you know who I am? strides in without so much as ringing the door chime.

From outside the office, Blakeney can be seen belatedly announcing, "Commander! Admiral Hamilton is here."

Hamilton fixes Little with a stern look of disapproval. Little bears it calmly - it seems to be something he's practiced. "Hello, Admiral. I was about to call you to--"

The admiral cuts off the sentence with a chopping motion of his hand. "Save it, commander. I told you I wanted to go with you to greet Captain McCurry when she arrived. And yes, I'm aware that you got around that by sending that human cricket to greet her instead."

Turning to finally face McCurry, Hamilton jerks his head as he says, "You're with me," then walks out of the office.

"Guess he didn't notice how fantastic you look in red," Little murmurs. But he's smiling as he says it.

The admiral hadn't paused or slowed to wait for her to catch up, and he's not even looking back as he strides ahead. Somehow, even so, he knows when she's taken up her position because he starts speaking immediately, and without preamble.

"This mission is years in the making, and I've been an integral part of it every step of the way. The USS Dauntless was part of my chain of command."

McCurry knows the history of the Federation's accidental discovery of the entanglement field, known as the Tangle, when the unfortunate Dauntless encountered it as part of a routine exploration of deep space and found itself rocketed unexpectedly lightyears away, far from the Tangle and eventually through an asteroid belt. The ship sustained significant damage and lost some crew. McCurry wasn't aware that the Dauntless had been under Hamilton's oversight.

Hamilton enters the turbolift and tells it, "Main lab" as McCurry gets on. He still doesn't bother to look at her. As he continues, the lights on the wall suggest the lift is traveling up several levels and moving laterally from time to time.

"When we investigated the phenomenon and discovered the planet Inphir, I was part of the team that organized first contact. I spent years forging a delicate, painstaking trust with the Inphirians. When the fallout from your previous attempt at command blew that trust all to hell, I fought hard to maintain Gaia as a permanent research station to study various aspects of the Tangle. I've been overseeing anywhere from twelve to thirty-seven separate lines of scientific inquiry ever since."

The turbolift doors open and Hamilton steps out, expecting McCurry to follow, which she does. He begins walking through a large lab filled with various computers, screens, and what appear to be different kinds of scientific equipment. "I've carefully, lovingly nurtured the Federation presence outside of the Tangle. Cared for it like a sickly, delicate tree, and for one reason: Because if that tree survived, it might bear fruit of inestimable value."

He arrives at a computer station and nods to a technician, who recognizes him and steps back to give him access. Hamilton punches a couple of buttons, and McCurry realizes that whatever he wants to show her, he's already arranged to have it ready to bring up.

A series of pictures begins to rapidly cycle on the screen. First, official portraits of healthy humans, followed by timestamped medical record photos of each one obviously deteriorating in health. It starts with hollowed-out, dark-circled eyes and progresses to each person becoming a gaunt and twisted shell of their former selves. At first, it's just people in Starfleet or Federation science uniforms. Eventually, there are photos of children. There must be hundreds of pictures in the file he's displaying.

And finally, he turns to look at McCurry. At this point, she knows exactly what point Hamilton is trying to make, but he's going to spell it out anyway.

"Veseggian Syndrome. It's killed thousands of people. Tens of thousands more are fighting it right now. All of them will die, because the only effective treatment requires Priosium-6, and it's vanishingly rare."

Hamilton points to a window where the Tangle makes a strangely clinical backdrop in this setting. "The Tangle produces Priosium-6 particles. The surface of Inphir is rich with an impacted build-up of Priosium. With access to that resource, we could cure every single person with pre-stage four Veseggian. We could develop a vaccine. We'd have had all of that by now, if your abortive command attempt hadn't prompted the Inphirians to cut off contact."

He fixes McCurry with a glare that might possibly be lethal in a more oxygen-rich atmosphere. "I wanted to make it crystal clear to you what the Hodgkin's mission is about. I wanted to make sure you're aware of what's at stake, and I wanted you to understand that I'm in charge. This isn't your second chance at command, McCurry. It's the last chance for all of these people."

The slideshow continues. The photos now bear very recent timestamps.

One might expect the admiral to react angrily to such a brazen display of hubris. Instead, he looks as though she's just confirmed what he already knew and expected. He huffs a bitter laugh.

"You're exactly the same arrogant fool you were four years ago. Alvarez must have cashed in every chip she's ever had to get them to override my recommendation. So let me make some else clear to you, McCurry. With the exception of you, every crew member on the Hodgkin has been vetted and handpicked by me. Every one of them has relevant experience that makes them uniquely qualified both for their position on the ship and their participation in its unique mission. I have complete confidence in all of the people that I selected."

He leans closer for emphasis. "So if this mission does manage to go sideways, I will know exactly where to place the blame."

Hamilton pauses to give his words a chance to sink in, then says, "Dismissed" in the most dismissive tone possible. He turns to walk toward a corridor, clearly a man with somewhere else to be. The camera follows him momentarily before pivoting back toward McCurry and her facial expression as the import of what just happened does, in fact, sink in. But then the lens' focus shifts to show Lt. Blakeney standing about six feet away, visible over her right shoulder.

For an instant, Blakeney's face is wide-eyed and chagrined, indicating that he may have heard quite a bit of what was said and regrets his timing. Then he slips back into his cheerful demeanor and says, "Oh, good, Captain, I found you. I'm here to show you to your quarters on the station. I could have just sent you the room number, but honestly, this place is a bit of a maze, so I thought I'd make it easier on you."

Blakeney nods, still smiling pleasantly, and leads the way back through the lab to the turbolift. The whole time, he's pointing out helpful items of orientation and rattling of points of interest or things she'll need to know to get around the station on her own. It's hard to know whether it's funny and endearing or providing a justification for future homicide.

"Almost two and a half years, sir. Well, two years, four months, and twenty... six days." Blakeney's face screws into a slight frown as he calculates the exact duration of his tenure. "I was assigned here as an ensign. Within six months, I knew the whole station layout as well as people who'd been here for years. A year later, I was promoted to lieutenant and put in charge of Ops. But I'm certainly ready for the new challenge, sir!" He beams at her as then turbolift doors open and he leads you into a dark corridor. It doesn't look like this is a crew quarters area.

Blakeney laughs, tentatively. It's the first utterance he's made that didn't have absolute conviction, and while it's obvious that he's suddenly feeling a little unsure of himself, it's not clear why.

"Well... I'm referring to her, of course, sir." He's gesturing toward a place just around the corner, bidding her to round it and take a look.

There's a large set of windows here, offering a breathtaking view of a starship docked outside of Gaia.

McCurry stares at the Hodgkin as we hear Blakeney talking in a somewhat reverent tone.

"Olympic class - first of her kind. But she's fully reliable and spaceworthy, Captain. I've done exhaustive research into all of her systems. She may be a prototype, but she's gonna take good care of us."

Blakeney looks stricken. "I'm sorry, sir. I thought I'd sent you the crew manifest earlier this week." He's already tapping furiously at his tablet. "Sending it for sure right now. But yes, captain. I'm your Ops officer."

He smiles, with slightly less than his normal wattage.

Blakeney smiles, full confidence restored.

End of Scene 1

Fan Mail Awarded: 3
Budget Spent: 1
Audience Pool: 3

We cut from Blakeney and Capt. McCurry shaking hands to the interior of a small science lab. Through a small window, we can see part of Gaia Station, and the interior styling is different in here than the rooms and corridors we saw on Gaia.

There are containers and pieces of equipment on tables, clearly in the process of waiting for a permanent place to be, making it clear that this place is being put together for the first time. A man in his late twenties/early thirties is frowning as he decides where to place something, and a woman of about the same age becomes visible for the first time as she stands up from having been doing something under a table. She's holding up a framed diploma.

"Found it! Make sure you stick this on the wall in your office. It will reassure the patients that you are, in fact, a trained psychologist." She grins at him as she hands him the diploma.

Edgar was in the process of unloading boxes of testing equipment, balancing a digital notepad in one hand and some test tubes in the other, when he stopped abruptly at Jessica's comment. A stylus, perched on top of his notepad slowly rolled off the edge and onto the floor.

"That's not at all funny," he said giving Jessica a dirty look as he put the equipment on a nearby lab bench and stooped to pick up the stylus.

"You know I dread the idea of giving anyone a psych consult. Just thinking about it gives me nightmares. Imagine how that will instill confidence in my patients!" Edgar spits out the word "patients" as if they were repugnant things.

"And you can get rid of that shit eating grin if you don't mind," he says, while giving her a snide grin of his own.

Jessica makes an exaggerated "serious" face in response. Since Edgar didn't take the diploma, she walks it over to a cabinet against the bulkhead with the window. The camera cuts to a view over her shoulder as she looks past the parts of Gaia Station to the large, vein-y energy phenomenon that we saw earlier through Commander Little's office window.

"I kind of envy you, Eddie." She laughs shortly. "Well, I envy that you'll get a chance to see Entanglement Psychosis in real time and from inside the Tangle." She turns, whether to face Edgar or to stop looking at the Tangle is unclear. "I don't envy you actually traveling into it. Spending days or weeks inside an entanglement field is my idea of taking field research a bit too far."

"And that my dear is why you aren't going." Edgar hotly replies, still agitated by her previous remarks. He had actually been enjoying himself setting up the new lab. He even allowed a bit of excitement to creep in.

"Look, you always knew how to press my buttons. You still do. You know I know the risks, but you also know how much I love my research and how important it is. So why dig?"

Edgar shakes his head and starts rummaging through another box, placing pieces of equipment in various locations around the lab. Then he takes the framed diploma, and while looking at Jessica, makes a show of placing it an empty box.

"Let's just leave this here for the moment, shall we?"

Jessica takes his attack open-mouthed, first in surprise and then in modest anger. When he makes a production out of putting the diploma out of sight, she puts up her hands in a sign of surrender, her lips pressed together as though in suppressed anger... or hurt.

She moves to a box on the other side of the lab. "Just tell me where to put the rest of this stuff. I wouldn't want to 'dig' at you with any more expressions of concern for your welfare."

The communicator at the door blips, and after a polite pause, First Officer Pleiades Hamilton steps in. She stands at parade rest, a datapad in her arm, looking about the lab with a cold expression. Some would mistake her for a mannequin, unmoving and pristine, save for the smudge of freckles on her cheek which inspired her name. She doesn’t wait for acknowledgement.

"Good to see you getting settled in before the captain arrives, Counselor, though I would have hoped you’d have been arranged by now. I came to discuss your request for fewer patients. While I appreciate your initiative, the request has been denied. Star Fleet assigned you to the Hodgkin to tend any psychological needs of her crew that may arise physically, politically, or otherwise. If the Fleet needed you exclusively for research, you would have been assigned to another ship. Thank you for your understanding."

With a nod that states this is not up for negotiation, she turns to leave.

Edgar's face wears the realization that he might have been a little harsh with Jessica. He heaves a big sigh and turns around to continue tinkering with his lab setup.

Then the door blips. "Oh now what", he says under his breath, and swings around to see First Officer Pleiades Hamilton.

"Oh!" Edgar takes a breath, clearly not expecting anyone at that moment. Before he can return the so called pleasantries, the First Officer launches into a rather bristly and condescending dressing-down. As she turns to leave, Edgar, clearly irritated, clears his throat, holds out his arms, and asks, "But why? Any counseling I do will seriously intrude on the time I can devote to my most urgent work. Surly this takes precedence over some prattling sessions?"

Hamilton stands straighter, if that's even possible, a look of indignation on her face.

"'Prattling?' I will have you know, Counselor, starting a mission on such a bold ground is dangerous, at best. The Admiral assigned you to this ship for a reason. It would be best not to disappoint him."

Her hands twitch slightly as she reverts to her stone cold state. There's a look of self-doubt in her eyes when she mentions the Admiral, but she stands her ground.

Edgar knows when he's beaten and that's evident in his now contrite expression. He hunches his shoulders and shoots a quick glance at Jessica, then back to Pleiades, feeling very sorry for himself.

"Very well then sir."

The first officer smiles, as though "reaffirm strengths" is the last step of discipline in the handbook. It’s not a pleasant sight.

"Well. The Captain will be on the bridge in twenty minutes. I will see you there. Thank you, Counselor."

The camera follows her as she steps out the door, pausing briefly as the doors "shhhk" closed behind her. Her face falls through a variety of expressions - the smile, a disappointed sigh, a huff of frustration - before settling back into her usual mannequin state. She walks down the hall, and the camera goes back inside the lab.

Edgar takes a deep, audible breath, and turns to face Jessica.

"Look Jessica, I am sorry if I was a little harsh and overreactive. I feel bad. But you know how much I hate counseling. In fact, I am not a big fan of people in general. I like my scientific work. The people are just ....uh...there, to validate my theories and calculations. And you have to admit ... you deliberately pushed my buttons. Right?"

As a piece offering, Edgar retrieves the diploma, carrying it almost as if it had a communicable disease, and starts looking for a spot on the wall to hang it.

Smiling slightly at Edgar's clumsy apology and noting his obvious attempt at conciliation with the diploma, Jessica continues to empty the box she's working on.

"You don't have to explain your feelings about treating patients to me. I've known you since before you transferred from med school to psych, remember?"

Having emptied the box, she turns to face him. "And, no, I wasn't pushing your buttons. The fact that you're taking it that way suggests that maybe you know you're not being very realistic about the expectations of this assignment."

She crosses the room to him and puts a hand on his arm. "This isn't just an extension of the pure research we've been doing on Gaia, Eddie. You're the ship's counselor. That means giving psychologically-based advice to the captain and ensuring the mental health of the crew."

As Edgar starts to interject, she gives his arm a firm squeeze to let him know she's not yet finished. "And in this case, that's a lot more than just 'listening to them prattle.' Your regular sessions are going the best way to detect the early symptoms of entanglement psychosis. That alien propulsion drive they've installed - we don't know yet how long it will delay the onset of the psychosis, or under what conditions it might become less effective. So you've got to make peace with this counseling phobia, Eddie. Every life on this ship might depend on it."

"Ok, since you put it that way, I guess I'll just suck it up and be a good little counselor boy."

Despite the snark, Edgar gives Jessica a genuine smile.

Meanwhile, in another lab.

Fog swirls around a dark lab. Dozens of screen displays, some clearly added to the regular walls haphazardly, show mathematical equations and 3D field visualizations. A long headed alien scribbles on a PADD while consulting a data listing. Clearly in a hurry, or perhaps just obsessed, he frantically swaps the data display to another readout. "No! This is wrong."

The door chimes. He ignores it, flipping displays, highlighting data.

The door chimes again. He squeezes his fist into a claw, turns to the door, and calmness washes over him.

"Enter," he says pleasantly, almost serenely.

A security guard enters from an air lock, a gas mask pressed to his face. A fog burst works around the airlock.

The alien considers him, bows his head politely. "Officer, how may I help you?"

The security officer, a short Asian man, remains near the door. "Just the hourly check, sir."

He looks around the lab to demonstrate his vigilance. It actually serves more to underscore his discomfort with not knowing exactly what he should be looking for.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I can find you a chair. Hmm, I don't have an extra one, but, oh, I could replicate one in pieces and assemble it. It would be my pleasure. Please, look around while I see to that. See this here, this is the Tangle at high resolution subspace band." He points at a large 3D visualization, and tries awkwardly to scan the lieutenants posterior holding a Federation issue tricorder, his face tendrils jiggling nervously.

Zuto proceeds to turn this way and that in an effort to avoid the scanning of his backside. It's made even more awkward by the need to hold the mask to his face.

"Um, no, sir. Thanks, but you don't have to do that. I don't need a chair. No, sir, really. I can have one brought in if necessary."

When it seems that Oobadek has finally stopped trying to scan him, Zuto actually looks at the 3D display the Inphirian has pointed out, absently using both hands to just fasten the mask on his face. "That's pretty interesting. What does this view tell you about the Tangle?"

Oobadek immediately puts down the tricorder when Lt. Zuto grows anxious. Grateful for the question, he says, "The Inphirian Institute, of which I am an alumni, as you say, postulated that the Tangle was partially a subspace phenomenon, where so the universe was vibrating at the subnano scale, even down to the Plank scale. There are some raucous debates on that issue, I must say. But what you see here isn't that. No, it isn't that at all. I'm afraid that the advanced resolution of your Federation's marvelous sensors on the subspace field has rendered a vast body of scientific research irrelevant." He shakes his had sadly, almost as if blaming Zuto personally. "There isn't any unusual subspace vibrations, and even virtual particle production seems within norms."

Zuto looks both apologetic and slightly embarrassed. "I'm... very sorry, sir." He looks as though he wants to say more, then frowns slightly, as if trying to understand what he's actually apologizing for.

Oobadek stares at the lieutenant, the pregnant pause growing uncomfortably late.

Oobadek says, "Chief Engineer, the modifications that I suggested for the airlock, incorporating a minuscule transporter array to eliminate any inefficiencies caused by the filtration system, have not yet been enacted. However, I assure you, the quantities involved are insignifant." by way of acknowledgement and watches the engineer move everything around. Fortunately, it is mostly display screens, so the alien simply stays out of the way. He lifts his own tricorder, saving the data file scan he had just completed, and scans the officer's butt. He uses his PADD to bring up chair types on one display, and tries to find one that matches both his guests.

"Oh, careful with that, I've carefully calibrated- nevermind, it will be easier the second time."

Finding nothing significantly troublesome, Avery sighs and concludes her search. "Well people don't like dying from huffing methane, usually, so it's my belief such problems should be solved before we get too...invested. Luckily this was just a false alarm, so now I'll have to figure out whether my measurements are inaccurate or there's some kind of interference, or- Y'know what, it doesn't really matter." She crosses her arms, pondering some matter in her head as she remains oblivious to Oobadak's machinations.

Zuto clears his throat and speaks up. "Um, lieutenant? For what it's worth, the sensor Security installed on the door hasn't sounded an alarm once since the lab was filled with the methane mixture."

Oobadek wriggles his tendrils a bit more, and says, "I'm sorry. I could do without the methane in the atmosphere in this lab. I don't want to be the cause of anyone dying." His hands shake nervously. "Maybe a vacuum suit pressurized with 5% methane and I could wear it outside the hull. Twice a day should be fine. I'm sure that the symptoms would be barely noticeable."

Avery's eye twitches slightly, her mouth opening slightly for some remark. Whatever it was is lost as she regains her composure, pointing at Oobadak. "We aren't doing that for several reasons, and-" her finger turns to Zuto, and is lowered once more, perhaps out of respect. "-That...that is good news." She answers quietly, feeling called out.

Zuto is watching Avery's face as she processes his "news." The expression on his face can best be described as skeptical; he seems to have figured out that her pretext of investigating reports of a leak is just that - a pretext. He doesn't call her out on that, though, or press her for details on why she entered the lab.

"I'll run a diagnostic on the methane sensor, just as a precaution," he tells her. Turning to Oobadek, he adds, "Liaison, I'll be right outside running the test. If you need anything, please let me know."

And Zuto leaves the room. Before the sliding doors close behind him, we see him turn and start fiddling with a panel in the wall outside of the lab, presumably running the diagnostic of the sensor system.

Oobadek watches the lieutenant leave. "I appreciate the precautions your fellow officers are taking," he says obliquely too Avery. He gestures to the displays as if they are self explanatory, and continues, "I suppose that I'll be with your crew for the time being."

"...Yes, I suppose so." Avery feels her cool slipping, wondering how Oobadak can be so calm and collected under such circumstances. "I'd best be on my way." Deciding to take her chances she makes a quick escape, not bothering to wait for anything else Oobadak has to say. After the sliding doors rest between the two Avery lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding in, everything except for her out of focus.

The camera slowly moves back into focus, revealing Zuto who's giving her a very knowing look from his position a few feet away. He opens his mouth. "You-" Avery immediately holds a hand up, as if to say 'stop'. Avery closes her eyes for a second, seemingly recollecting herself. "I don't want to talk about it." With her piece said Avery walks out of frame, leaving Zuto alone to shake his head.

The camera cuts to the engineering section of the Hodgkin. Computer displays line the walls and numerous crew members are busily monitoring displays, involved in discussions, or moving equipment or otherwise walking around.

Blakeney and Captain McCurry enter the area. "As I mentioned, we have about twenty percent more engineering staff than a ship of this size would normally require. Keeping the uncertainty drive in proper working order is a round-the-clock endeavor. Hey, Thompson." A young ensign stops walking to give Blakeney his attention. "Where's Lieutenant Edison?"

"She said she had to check something out in one of the labs, sir."

Nodding, Blakeney smiles to send the ensign back to what he was doing. He slaps his comm badge. "Blakeney to Chief Engineer Edison." An unfamiliar whining sound replies and Blakeney sighs impatiently. "It's all the shielding for the uncertainty drive. It makes it harder for the comm signal to get through. I'll try calling her from the other room. Be right back, Captain."

He hurries off-camera, leaving McCurry to contemplate the strangest engine she's ever seen.

McCurry nods to Blakeney, but it's about as distracted as a nod can be. The captain's attention is drawn almost exclusively to the engine behind the shield wall. Transparent viewing panels allow a good view of the uncertainty drive, which is an almost incomprehensible mass of wires and machinery. Coolant pipes nearly surround a dark spherical mass about 5 meters in diameter that floats in space above liquid helium-cooled superconducting magnets, with sensors extending toward its surface from ten directions at once. The surface of the sphere swirls with pearlescent blue and silver, constantly moving and darting about in dancing motion that seems eerily alive.

Inside the drive chamber, lights blink, displays scroll an endless stream of data and diagnostics on the entire assembly. Comm systems relay the sounds from inside, the huff and hiss of pressurized air, engineering staff calling out sensor readings, an occasional warning bell.

A slow fascination dawns on McCurry's face. She takes a look around the room and spots an open closet of light, silvery suits and helmets like those the engineers inside the drive chamber wear. It's clear what she's thinking, and in a moment, she is pulling one of the suits on and fastening a helmet over her head. It leaves her face readily visible, but there's no visible indication of her rank or position underneath the suit. She moves to the outer airlock chamber and presses the button that will allow her access to the drive chamber while sealing off the entry chamber from any potential hazards.

Within moments, she's inside, and studying one of the displays. She touches a finger to the screen to stop the flow of data, and interacts with the display with some obvious familiarity as she searches for the diagnostics that interest her.

There's a flash of irritation across McCurry's face as she's spun around to face her new chief engineer, but it's quickly put down. Maybe the captain learned something from her mostly disastrous encounter with Admiral Hamilton earlier.

Still, she lets Edison's words flow over her, merely looking back at the engineer with calm features. "It is sensitive equipment. You're absolutely right. Which is why someone should've made sure that they checked the superfluidity of the fermion-helium mixture. The temperature's awfully close to going over 50 nanokelvins, and I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?" she replies, looking completely nonplussed by the epithets being tossed about so casually.

McCurry steps away from the display to allow Edison an opportunity to look at what she was studying. She clasps her hands behind her back almost as though standing at attention.

Avery is quite frankly dumbfounded at the presumptuousness of this individual. She blinks, letting their words settle for a second before really getting into it. "That's what happens when unidentified individuals take it upon themselves to invade others working quarters, and try to "fix" a problem thinking they're some unsung hero who will be praised for their actions. If something is truly the matter, you make a formal query just like everyone else, it's a simple procedure, but effective. When you don't, people start getting reported for insubordination!" Avery slaps the backside of her tablet to emphasize the point, clearly looking riled up.

The captain's face goes flat, stony-eyed as she stares back at Edison.

"And what happens when the superfluid coolant fails because a territorial pissing match is more important than doing your damned job?" replies McCurry in a quiet, intense voice. She jabs a finger at the display. "Someone told me you're a talented engineer, and I should be thankful we get to work together, and instead, all I'm seeing is a petulant child who's too insecure to look at a damned diagnostics screen." Her voice gets louder and louder as she goes on, biting each word off sharply as she speaks it.

As the two women glare at one another, standing nearly toe-to-toe in verbal combat, a tapping sound interjects into the momentary silence. Both women's heads turn toward the sound, and the camera follows their twin gazes to show Blakeney standing outside the chamber, tapping on the clear, glasslike material.

He looks like he's trying hard not to show how concerned he is. "Lieutenant Edison, I see you've met our new C.O., Captain Tabitha McCurry."

"And I would have been happy to introduce myself, given the chance," replies Captain McCurry, fixing the engineer with a look. It's not a glare, necessarily, simply an unblinking stare and a lack of facial expression. "Instead, you barreled in here like your hair was on fire, and didn't assess the situation rationally before reacting. Let me make something very clear to you, Lieutenant. I cannot accept officers under my command performing their duties in such a reckless, selfish fashion. Head of engineering is a vitally important role on any ship, but more so on this one," she says, gesturing at the enigmatic monstrosity behind her.

"But it is not a role that anyone can perform alone. If someone makes a suggestion, you listen first and then judge the validity of the issue and the individual providing it. Protocol be damned, Lieutenant Edison. You may have had time for formal queries that travel their circuitous route through proper channels in your last post, but this drive is all hands on deck at all times. If it fails, we all fail. And this post will be your last."

She pauses a moment, and then delivers the final slap to the face. "You are hereby relieved of duty, Lieutenant. Return to your quarters while I decide how to proceed."

Turning toward Blakeney outside the chamber, she says, "Who is next in line in engineering, Lieutenant Blakeney?"

Blakeney responds without hesitation or emotion. "Lieutenant Jason Chong, sir."

"Then please notify Lieutenant Chong that, until further notice, he is the head of engineering," says McCurry, not looking away from Lieutenant Edison.

"That will be all, Lieutenant Edison. You are dismissed."

Avery's anger dissipates with Blakeney's revelation, replaced by shock as the Captain administers her punishment, her nerves starting to falter. "I-I-yes." Thoroughly embarrassed she leaves, forced to endure the airlock and properly placing the coverall back in it's rightful spot before she can finally be free of their scrutinizing presence.

"Lt. Chong. Why wasn't he in charge to begin with?" Avery practically spits the words out, entering her room. The door closes behind her, leaving the camera outside in the silent hallway.

Blakeney taps a message into his tablet as Avery completes her humiliating airlock protocol and the captain does the same. When Avery has left engineering, he says to the captain, "I've informed Lt. Commander Hamilton of the personnel change, sir. She will see to it that Lt. Chong is reassigned immediately."

"Fine, Lieutenant. Protocol shouldn't always be damned," replies the captain, who looks at the door by which her erstwhile chief engineer has just left.

She straightens her uniform, even though it's already pretty straight. "To the bridge, then."

As she walks toward the door, she glances at Blakeney with trepidation. "Lt. Commander Hamilton. Is she..."

McCurry has barely gotten to "Is she..." before Blakeney has finished with, "The admiral's daughter, yes, sir." He leads the captain down the corridor to the turbolift."Fan Mail Awarded: 2
Budget Spent: 2
Budget Added to Pool: 5
Audience Pool: 5

As the doors of the turbolift shut on the engineering wing, doors open on the bridge. Lt. Commander Hamilton steps out of the Captain's ready room, brow furrowed, as she inspects a datapad.

"Have we had any luck yet contacting Captain McCurry?"

A young officer at the communications desk, who has been murmuring with a colleague, pipes up.

"Lieutenant Commander, our readings show she just left Engineering. That would explain it."

"Well, then, we have twenty-seven seconds until she arrives here."

She scans the room with a stony expression, tapping the back of her PADD. A flicker of anxiety hits her face, though she suppresses it, then glances at the chief of security as she makes her way around the room.

"Lt. Iron Eyes, we may need you in the ready room shortly. New orders just came in from The Admiral and Captain McCurry. But, best to introduce her to her ship..."

Hamilton walks around the room and zeroes in on the officer at communications.

"...before we try to dive into anything. Officer Leya, can you please explain to me why your badge is still crooked when I distinctly reminded you to fix it seven point six minutes ago?"

The officer barely has time to "eep" and fix the badge when the doors to the bridge "SSHK" open. Hamilton snaps to attention and flashes daggers at anyone who doesn't do likewise.

"Captain on the bridge! Welcome to the Hodgkin, Sir."

McCurry and Blakeney exit the turbolift.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate your attention to detail on this," says the captain, then turns to look out over the bridge and the view beyond it. The hard set to her jaw, the flat look in her eyes, the tension in her posture, all seem to thaw as she does so.

Home. Finally, home. Finally, she can smile.

She does so, and it almost completely transforms her. The brittle mask she's been wearing almost continuously since stepping off the shuttle is gone. There's a sparkle to her eyes and delight in her face as she looks around from officer to officer, acknowledging each with a nod and a smile.

McCurry completes her circuit of studying new faces and inclines her head graciously to the First Officer. "Thank you, Lt. Commander. At ease. Please," she says, and even sounds sincere. Walking forward, head held proudly, she offers a hand to Hamilton. "It's a pleasure to be here, and a pleasure to meet you."

As the camera shows the transformation of Capt. McCurry's facial expression, we see Blakeney watching it and smiling slightly, possibly unconsciously betraying a sense of relief. With a nod to the first officer, he crosses to the Ops station, relieving the ensign who's been stationed there. He's seated by the time the captain has started shaking hands with Pleiades.

Lt. Commander Hamilton shakes the captain's hand politely and firmly. Even at ease, she doesn't seem capable of anything other than parade rest.

"We've greatly anticipated your arrival, Captain McCurry. This is Lt. Elizabeth Iron Eyes, our chief of security. And our helmsman, Lt. Icatha Davis."

She gestures to the strong-jawed woman from before, and a middle aged man with just enough angle in his face that he might not be fully human. Then she refers to the officer from before - a two-headed alien with pale lavender skin.

"And these are Officer Altok Leya, on communications."

The two heads smile sheepishly, but Hamilton moves on.

"Captain, I've received new orders from The Admiral, and I would like to debrief on your own recent assignments." She taps her PADD. "We can discuss in the ready room if you prefer."

McCurry makes a point of shaking hands with each individual as they're introduced, saying just a bit to each one as she does.

"Lieutenant Iron Eyes," she says with a smile. "Nothing personal, but hopefully you end up having a very boring job."

Turning to Davis, she shakes his hand perhaps a little more warmly. "A pleasure, Lieutenant Davis. I spent some time at the helm more years ago than I care to admit. Welcome to the crew."

Then, to Leya, she extends both her hands, crossing her forearms to shake both of Leya's hands. "It is an honor, Communications Officer Leya."

Introductions taken care of, she turns back to Hamilton and glances up and down at her, taking note of the lack of 'at ease' in her posture. "New orders already?" she replies, eyebrows lifting just slightly. "I suppose we'd better discuss them, then." It's obvious that despite whatever research she did before arriving on the Hodgkin, she's still a bit disoriented as to where things are. She glances about until she locates the door to the ready room, and gestures in that direction. "The ready room will be fine, Lt. Commander. Back to work, everyone," she says to the others, and moves toward the door.

The camera angle changes to show the women entering the ready room. Hamilton nods to Iron Eyes, and for the moment, the ranking officers are alone.

"Captain McCurry, I want to extend a warm welcome, again, to the Hodgkin. I wish we had more time for camaraderie, but I have received orders from The Admiral that you should know."

It's clear from her efficiency that she actually doesn't mind missing out on icebreakers. She locks her PADD into the main display and pulls up an image of a map that fills the side wall. Even though the Tangle is visible in the distance behind the captain's desk, a computer rendering appears on screen.

"As you know, the mission of the Hodgkin is to work on diplomatic relations, study the negative side effects of exposure to the entanglement field, and, ultimately, secure a steady supply of Priosium-6 to save the lives of those with Veseggian Syndrome. However..."

She waves her hand to zoom in on a section on the edge of the Tangle, a small outpost in space, not of Federation make or model.

"...Star Fleet has received reports of a potential Vruxil threat near this Inphirian colony. We have been given orders to investigate and provide aid if necessary. Now, I assure you, Captain, that those on this ship wish to fulfill our initial orders as soon as possible, but the Federation believes this could be an important olive branch, if you will, to the Inphirians. Not to mention, the last thing we need is a Vruxil threat making its way toward our own endeavors."

Not one to assume, she steps aside from the map, letting McCurry ask questions in her own time.

Given that the captain has only just arrived at Gaia Station and the Hodgkin, it's no surprise that the ready room remains completely generic. The necessary technology and default furnishings are present, but there's no personal touch. Not yet. Small shipping crates are stacked in one corner of the room out of the way, perhaps the captain's things.

McCurry stands before the map, manipulating the display to study the colony from all angles.

"Right up against the Tangle, isn't it? We'll want to have Counselor Mitsk on the bridge as we approach, and obviously Liaison Officer Oobadek. These orders have gone through all official channels, I assume. I would hate for our first mission to precipitate diplomatic issues," she says, glancing at Hamilton.

"Absolutely, Sir," Hamilton replies quickly. "The Admiral has taken special care to establish norms and procedures over the last four years or so."

Her eyes widen, as if her timeline reference just barely brushed a reality too closely. But she moves on, taking her PADD out of the dock now that the proper files are uploaded to McCurry’s display. She sends messages to the others to meet in the conference room.

"Captain McCurry..." she begins hesitantly. "If you’ll permit me to ask, do you want me to call down Lt. Edison? I understand she’s been relieved of duty, and I will certainly call down Lt. Chong, but, having not been debriefed of the full details of Lt. Edison, I wanted to ask, Sir. If I may, I’ve read the crew dossiers, and after you, we have no crew members more qualified to work with the uncertainty drive."

She speaks plainly, hoping she isn’t overstepping bounds, but making sure the Captain has all necessary information.

McCurry turns to look at her first officer, studying her impassively for a moment just long enough for it to feel a little uncomfortable.

"She called me a dumbass, Lt. Commander Hamilton. She’s lucky I don’t have her spaced," she says calmly. "To be fair to Lt. Edison, she didn’t know who I was, and she only saw someone unfamiliar inside the drive chamber."

She gestures to herself to make it clear that she was the unfamiliar person.

"Please have Lt. Edison join us. If she’s the only one qualified to assess the readiness of the drive, then she should be here. We can discuss her return to active duty once the current situation is resolved. Would you agree?"

Hamilton obediently taps on the PADD to summon Edison.

"Yes sir." Hamilton obediently taps on the PADD to summon Edison. "I will also inform her that her placement on the ship will be discussed privately afterward. Is there anything you need me to take care of on preparation for the meeting in the conference room?"

The captain looks back at Hamilton while she taps away, blinking once or twice in surprise. She draws in a deep, calming breath and lets it out quietly. "Please make sure Lt. Iron Eyes is also invited. We're not very familiar with the Vruxil yet, so tactical’s input would be valuable. Just in case."

McCurry steps closer to Hamilton. The two women are almost exactly the same height, and once the first officer meets her eyes, the captain says, "We're all figuring this out together, Lt. Commander. No one has all the answers, nor should they be expected to."

She offers an encouraging smile. "Together... right?"

Hamilton’s lips twitch, but the expression doesn’t take hold.

"Yes, Sir. I am delighted to have a chance to work with you."

McCurry’s smile falters just slightly. You can almost watch her think about pulling back the olive branch. But, she nods once and says, "Dismissed."

As the first officer exits, the camera pans out to the captain standing alone in the middle of the completely unready ready room. The boxes in the corner are her only companions, as she looks at the door to the bridge.

"Well," she says. "It’s a start."

Avery arrives with a calm composure, bored even. Calmly she takes a seat without a word, ever so slowly leaning back with fingers interlocked.

When Avery walks into the room, Blakeney and Iron Eyes are looking at the Ops officer's tablet, discussing some detail about the presentation Blakeney will give during the meeting. At Avery's entrance, they both look up and become awkwardly silent before quickly finishing up.

Clearing his throat, Danny smiles and says, "Hello, Lt. Edison." It's clear that he's trying to demonstrate that, whatever might be happening with her job status, he intends to treat her as he would any fellow officer. "Have you met our new chief medical officer? Dr. T'Shen, this is our engineer, Lt. Avery Edison."

A Vulcan woman in a blue uniform nods to Avery. "I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant."

Avery breathes deeply through her nostrils, pulling her gaze from her hands to Dr. T'Shen. "Likewise Doctor. I imagine we will accomplish great things." She nods back with emotions in check, but for a split second her eyes meet Blakeney, silently judging him.

The Vulcan nods in acknowledgement. "That would be most gratifying, lieutenant." She seems to notice the look that Avery flashed Blakeney and cocks her head, looking to Blakeney and back to Avery. Though she says nothing, it appears that she's aware of some emotional subtext between them and is trying to understand what it is.

Danny also notices Avery's pointed glance, but decides not to let it affect him. "It's possible that we'll be getting an early start on those great accomplishments. Our first mission is no longer going to be a test run into the Tangle." He leans forward, looking excited. "We're investigating a reported Vruxil sighting!"

Now Avery can't help but stare at Daniel, but it's not a criticizing look, instead her face softens slightly as she decides to lay off the rather enthusiastic Lieutenant. "Really? That is exciting." She tries to sound invested, to mild success.

The camera cuts over Avery's shoulder out into the hallway, where two other halls intersect. Hamilton and Counselor Mistik fall into step with each other.

"Ah, Counselor. Good to see you. Thank you for your flexibility, and for you understanding of the assignment earlier. How are your office and lab coming along?"

Edgar heads toward the conference room. He sees the first officer and takes a quick breath at this unexpected walk along. After all, the previous meeting went horribly wrong and it's hanging in the air like a stalactite about to let loose. Tapping the PADD at his side nervously with his thumb as they walk, he continues the pleasantries to the best of his ability.

"Yes, yes. Good to see you too. The office and lab are...uh...making progress."

Apparently oblivious to his discomfort, Hamilton continues.

"Wonderful. If you need any help, please don't hesitate to ask. I memorized the Federation's filing process while I was at the Academy."

Maybe she does realize she made him uncomfortable. She raises an eyebrow to show she's serious.

"I do hope, Counselor, that your sessions are a help to your research. Have you noticed any effects at this range from the entanglement field?"

Edgar stops fidgeting with his PADD and his demeanor completely changes to one of supreme confidence and passion for his scientific research.

"If you mean the space station's range, not exactly. I am working on several studies in tandem." As he says this, he stops walking, taps on his PADD, and brings up a list of projects, pointing to them on the screen for Hamilton to see.

"You see this one here, is measuring the relationship between distance and measurable exposure.

He moves closer, hoping to share every glorious detail.

"In addition, I am also working on the correlation between the amount of exposure and the effects ... a "safe" exposure baseline if you will. And that leads to the next project.....which...." and the first officer cuts him off.

There’s actually something vaguely resembling a smile on Hamilton’s lips.

"At ease, Counselor. Perhaps this would be better explained for the group. I’m glad to see you’ve found so much already. You’re a great asset to the Hodgkin. And, I hope nobody’s giving you any trouble with scheduling their appointments."

"Uh...nooo sir. No problems."

Edgar's thumb can be heard tapping on the PADD, now gripped at his side.

"Would you like to schedule your... uh.... appointment?"

There’s a pause in Hamilton’s pace, a hesitation in her eyes.

"Um, yes, Counselor. I’ll take your second opening once we return from this mission. Thank you, Counselor."

They step inside the room to join the others, and Hamilton seems eager to change the subject.

"Thank you all for being here. I am sure you’ve had a chance to read the initial debrief. Lieutenant Blackeney, I look forward to the rest of your presentation. The captain will be here shortly. And Lieutenant Leya, please fix your badges."

She takes a seat after Edgar does.

Barely a couple of minutes pass before the door opens again and the captain enters. Her gait is businesslike, her features serious as she goes to stand at the head of the table.

"Thank you all for being here," she says, unknowingly repeating what the first officer just said. "While I would have liked for there to be time to get to know each of you a bit more before we were pressed into significant duty, unfortunately that is not the case today. She seeks out Counselor Mitsk, the only one present she has not yet met, and offers him a smile. Apologetic, perhaps. Regardless of intent, she acknowledges his presence and inclines her head gratefully.

She continues her survey of the table, and as she reaches the end, her brow furrows slightly. "Where is Liaison Officer Oobadek? I expected him to be here," she says, and looks to Hamilton, eyebrows raised just a bit to direct the question at her specifically. "This first mission involves a foray to an Inphirian outpost. His input would be valuable."

Hamilton blinks a few times.

"Sir, the Liaison Officer does not have the appropriate security clearances to attend leadership meetings."

"Then we should rectify that," replies McCurry. "If we’re going to be serious about forging better relations with the Inphirians, then we need Oobadek as part of the leadership meetings."

"I mean, sir, I can try to process the paperwork, but I suspect it'll take more than the time we have."

The chief of security clears her throat, but when she speaks, it's in a clear, committed contralto voice.

"Captain, I must agree with Lt. Commander Hamilton. Security protocols are clear. The Liaison has not been granted full clearance to meetings of the senior staff. His purpose here is as a subject matter expert on Inphirian culture, technology, and science regarding the Tangle. Surely we should discuss the full scope of the mission privately and call him in to address specific ideas and concerns to help us determine the proper course of action?"

A brief, tense silence descends on the table. The Vulcan woman looks around the room, then says, "While I understand the importance of following protocol, I do wonder if it is necessary to follow the letter of the law, so to speak, in a case like this. Surely Starfleet protocols leave room for captain's discretion?"

Avery almost rolls her eyes at the current issue plaguing the room, indifferent to the tense atmosphere. "If the Liaison is truly supposed to fulfill their duty as an ambassador of sorts, shouldn't they be given a proper voice?"

"There is a difference between "a proper voice," and "privy to all mission information." I have no personal reason to distrust Liaison Oobadak, but protocol exists for a reason. The first time it wasn’t followed with the Inphirians, Star Fleet officers died."

Her eyes widen, a mixture of knowing she’s technically right, but knowing she overstepped.

McCurry turns to look at Hamilton, her features almost completely devoid of warmth. The look she gives the first officer lingers for an uncomfortably long time, and never changes. When she finally turns back to the rest of the leadership team, her voice is quiet, cool, but serious and to the point.

"I want you each to know that I recognize everyone’s thoughts on this matter, and they will be taken into consideration going forward from this point. However, as the decision is ultimately mine under these particular circumstances, I will be bringing the Liaison Officer into this discussion," she says. "We will revisit full security clearances at a later date."

"Lt. Blakeney, please send the Liaison Officer a request to join us at their earliest convenience."

For once, Hamilton’s expression does not settle down from a look of barely-controlled mortification. Her breathing is measured and slightly heavier than usual. She clears her throat politely.

"Captain McCurry, sir, is there anything you’d like added to the debrief presentation before Liaison Officer Oobadak arrives?"

"Yes, Lt. Commander," says the captain, though she doesn’t bother to look Hamilton’s way.

"We are all new to this ship. We are being pressed into service in a potentially tricky mission before we have had the time to learn how we all work with one another. There will be misunderstandings, there will be challenges that would not normally affect another, more experienced crew. But there will also be great moments of success and synergy that will build our trust in one another and make this a powerfully effective crew that works for and with one another."

At this last, she finally looks at Hamilton, then continues around the table.

"You will hear me say this often, but it is important to me, and it describes my philosophy in simple terms: on the Hodgkin, we work together."

"Together. Yes, Sir. Looking forward to it, Sir."

Hamilton responds a bit more urgently than usual.

Without hesitation, Blakeney dutifully nods, taps his comm badge, and quietly intones, "Liaison Officer Oobadek to the conference room."

As the captain's speech progresses, anyone looking at Danny sees his previously neutral expression growing gradually more and more inspired, until he is practically beaming as she draws to a close.

"Together. Yes, Sir. Looking forward to it, Sir," Commander Hamilton says, and Danny nods with enthusiasm.

"Absolutely, sir! We'll do it together."

He looks around the table, winning nods from Leya and Iron Eyes, and a quiet, "Certainly," from T'Shen.

Scarce five seconds after Lt. Blakeley's request, the door SHHKKs open and there stands the alien Oobadek. He steps in and takes in all those present. When his eyes find the Captain, his long mouth tendrils go rigid, spreading wider than normal. "Captain McCurry. It is good to see you. You look entirely normal!" Oobadek moves his right hand up to clasp his own right shoulder.

"How may I serve the Hodgkin, sir."

"Officer Oobadek," replies McCurry, raising her own right hand up to clasp her shoulder in return. "It is a pleasure to see you as well."
His comment about her appearance draws a pleased smile.

She gestures toward one of the empty chairs. "Please sit, if it pleases you. We are discussing our newly assigned mission, and your insight would be of significant benefit."

"Lt. Commander Hamilton, will you please summarize our orders from the Admiral?"

Of course the chair is right between Hamilton and Iron Eyes. The first officer clears her throat.

"Four hours ago, the Inphirian government reported through established channels that their scientific colony Errbex spotted a starship of Vruxil design. While it was not making any aggressive maneuvers, they are under the reasonable suspicion that this ship was carrying out a scouting mission. Initial discreet scans of the area by Federation can confirm this assumption. Historically, scouting missions near Inphirian sites have proven disastrous. The officers at Errbex are especially concerned due to their proximity to the Tangle, and the possibility of an onslaught arriving at their door without much warning. The Admiral has assigned the Hodgkin to review and report on the situation, providing diplomatic aid if necessary. We are not yet cleared to engage in combat, though the possibility remains. Lt. Blakeney has further details."

The Inphirian sits awkwardly in the indicated chair. As Pleiades mentions the sighting near Errbex, he looks worriedly at the Captain, his tendrils showing his alarm with their slight quivering. Under the table level, his hand grips the chair claw fashion.

He waits for Lt. Blakeley to fill in the rest.

Picks up from the first officer seamlessly. "The Inphirian fleet has a few small ships stationed on Errbex, mostly for transport and research use, but in light of recent hostilities, they've been retrofitted with some weapons. Those ships were scrambled upon detection of the Vruxil ship, which fled immediately rather than engaging. Here are the images captured by the Inphirian ships."

He taps on his PADD and several images appear on the screen on the wall at the end of the room, all taken in deep space. A couple have the Tangle in the background. In all of them, the intended object of the photo is indistinct.

Blakeney continues. "As you can see, none of the cameras captured a particularly useful rendering of the ship in question, but the telemetry from Errbex's sensors indicates strong similarities to the ship from which we recovered the uncertainty drive."

Dr. T'Shen interjects politely. "And how certain are we that the Vruxil were the ones who created that ship?"

"The Inphirians confirmed that its designed matched those of the ships involved in various Vruxil attacks on Inphirian outposts," Blakeney says. He smiles and nods at Oobadek. "Liaison, if you'd like to add any additional insights during the presentation, please feel free.""The ship fled directly into the Tangle once the Inphirian ships approached. The exact entry point was recorded, and the Inphirians were able to chart its course for a brief time. Starfleet Command has ordered the Hodgkin to Errbex to interview the colony leadership, analyze their data, and try to trace the path of the Vruxil ship as far as possible through the Tangle."

Oobadek's tendrils, clearly his most expressive feature narrow when Blakeney discusses Errbex's complement. He does not otherwise respond, other than to say, "My government hasn't given me permission to share tactical specifications of our defenses, but I will say that we have acquired a series of disruptor banks from the Romulans via trade with a rather untrustorthy third party. We are uncertain if these weapons will be more effective than our prior attempts."

When it comes, he stands and takes the opportunity to add the following. His voice is clear and intonated correctly in a pleasant human cadence. "The Vruxil use a full spectrum low power electromagnetic jamming technology that makes them particularly difficult to get anything better out of attempts at imagery, not just in visible light but from low energy levels all the way up to x-ray wavelengths. It is also difficult to lock onto them with targeting systems other than by using custom predictive software. The effect here is consistent with readings I have examined." He uses a small device attached to the back of his hand to fling images taken from Errbex is several different wavelengths, demonstrating the jamming.

"I think we should make analyzing the data on this jamming technology and finding a way to neutralize or get around it a top priority," the security chief says. "If we should happen to run into a Vruxil ship, we need to be able to lock onto them for tracking and other types of engagement."

"Maybe the Inphirians have already done some work on that front," Blakeney says. "Liaison, have your people made any preliminary efforts toward creating that predictive software?"

Oobadek looks uncomfortable for a moment. He says, "I know that we have made progress on tracking them at close range, but we haven't had the weapons to take advantage." He looks about, taking in the ships hull. "Given our immediate concern, would you like me to request that they provide the algorithms?" His eyes grow wide, looking from Blakeney to Iron Eyes to the Pleiades and the captain and back again.

"Please, Liaison Officer. We understand our current treaty is new to all parties, but this truly would help us assist your people."

Hamilton turns her head his way, and tries not to come across as overbearing.

"Absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I will do so immediately. Would you like for me to make the request now? I could do that from the hall, and then come back." He stands up, and fiddles with his wrist-device, waiting to be dismissed.

"Oh, I see. There's a comm box nearby. Perhaps getting the message from our ship will help confirm our intentions to your superiors. Captain, if you'll excuse us. We'll be right back."

Hamilton gets up and heads to the door, gesturing that she'll lead Oobadeck to a place he can communicate swiftly.

Oobadek follows closely. Too closely? Maybe.

That's all right, Hamilton glances his way trying to read his motivations. She taps into a panel on the wall just set aside from the conference room and steps back.

"This will follow Federation security encryptions. As long as you contact your main officers instead of Errbex, the communication shouldn't raise any concerns with the Vruxil."

McCurry raises her eyebrows just slightly, presses her lips together just slightly, as Hamilton takes over handling this particular situation.

"While we wait for information regarding the tracking and recognition algorithm, I have two questions," she says.

First, she turns to Lt. Edison. "What is the status of the uncertainty drive? Are we ready to enter the Tangle?"

The second question she directs to Edgar. "And Counselor, based on your research, is there anything further we can do to prepare ourselves for the neurological effects of the Tangle? And what signs will we need to look for to indicate that we may need to retreat to a safe distance?"

"Either of you can answer first."

Outside, Oobadek looks at the comm panel, them at Hamilton, them at the comm panel again. "I don't understand. Why do you have only hard point access to your communications systems? Why aren't your comm badges linked to the system? I read that this is the way, but I thought it was an error in my briefing notes."

Hamilton pauses.

"Our comms are connected within the ship, we just can't call out. I suppose it's a security clearance so we don't abuse the system."

She looks at Oobadek like he truly is a strange alien, but she's trying to be polite.

Edgar enthusiastically jumps right in, to answer the Captain. In fact he stands up to address the room.

"Nothing we can do to prepare other then be aware of the symptoms of exposure. I am working on a counter, similar to a Geiger counter for measuring exposure in real time in the form of a badge. There will be a minimum Tangens exposure to be determined as my research progresses. As to the signs, well... initially one will notice the incorrect usage of words. For example, one might mean to say give me that spoon, but instead say give me that insulator. As exposure increases, one also becomes agitated, has reduced analytical capability and ultimately becomes aphasic."

"Thank you, Counselor. When you’ve time to devote to it, I think we’d all appreciate having a better sense of when someone’s been exposed to the Tangle for too long," says McCurry. "We should have plenty of opportunity for study, that’s for certain."

She turns them to Lt. Edison, waiting for her answer.

Avery speaks professionally, clearly well versed on the matter. "The uncertainty drive has consistently performed within acceptable parameters during every test we've thrown at it. If there are any issues we have yet to encounter them."

The captain is momentarily taken aback by the confident answer, though for her, being 'taken aback' means eyes widening slightly, eyebrows rising just a bit, and a response that doesn't come quite as quickly as usual.

"So all of the reports I've read from the engineering teams that developed the drive for integration with current Starfleet technology about how it frequently breaks down for unknown reasons and has a difficult time communicating properly with Starfleet navigation systems... are you saying that you've managed to fix all those problems and we won't encounter any issues when we actually have to use it to go into the Tangle?"

It's a pointed question, yes, but the way she states it makes it sound as though she's grudgingly impressed, rather than highly skeptical. Certainly, there's a look of mild, innocent wonder on her face. That has to be sincere, right?

The camera angle changes from McCurry's attempt at sincerity to Hamilton's attempt at.... anything resembling humanoid interaction.

"That won't be an issue, Liaison Officer. I'll need to reset the encryption to standard after this, anyway."

The silence that follows is deafening. Hamilton glances at Oobadek's tendrils, trying to read his expression.

"Can I get you anything to drink? Are your methane levels sufficient right now?"

In the hallway, Oobadek stares at Hamilton, then looks at the wall, then stares again. "Drink? No, thank you, Commander. My methane store is back in the laboratory, I don't require constant exposure." He blinks a few times, his tendrils rigid. "Are your body functions in balance?"

"I......" Hamilton sighs. "Yes, thank you, Liaision Officer Oobadek. I do apologize. I realize my question may have pried into your personal medical history, not to mention it reflects a level of cultural insensitivity on my part. So again, my apologies. I meant no offense."

She looks at his tendrils extremely briefly, trying to figure out how mad he is, and then realizes she's projecting poorly again.

Blakeney's facial expression upon hearing this statement is, briefly, like a sculpture entitled, Complete and Utter Shock.It's a fleeting indiscretion, however, and he quickly schools his face into something closer to neutrality, albeit still bearing a slight frown.

He looks away from the chief engineer to his captain.Cursed with a highly expressive fair complexion, Blakeney's face goes a little pink as the captain recites the litany of reports she's read that blatantly contradict everything Lt. Edison just said. He had, of course, forwarded most of those reports to the captain himself.

He swallows and decides that it's safer not to look at either Edison or the captain directly, finding a point in the middle distance on which to fix his eyes.

Avery swallows something stuck in her throat, forced to backpedal. "Well, not everything has been sorted out, and there are some unknown factors which we're anticipating to present themselves as we enter the Tangle...but it'll get us where we need to for the time being. Plus: I know how to fix the damn thing." She uses a candid tone with that last remark.

Blakeney surprises himself by speaking up.

"If I may, captain? Lt. Edison has spent so much time learning the workings of the uncertainty drive and coming up with quick fixes whenever it malfunctions, she has probably forgotten that, to most of us, the system is really quite opaque and unpredictable. She seems to have developed an almost unconscious ability to diagnose and correct the drive's glitches."

He finally manages to make his mouth stop spewing and is careful not to look at Avery's face, which he's certain will be livid.

"Well," says the captain with a note of cheer in her voice. "I'm certainly glad we're sticking up for one another."

She leans back in her chair, hands folded in her lap. She looks very casual. Comfortable, even. "Lt. Edison? Would you agree with Lt. Blakeney's assessment of your particular connection with our ship's drive core?"

Avery gives Blakeney a perplexed look during his explanation, not entirely sure what he is trying to ultimately accomplish. She can't hold the position for long with McCurry questioning her.

"I...suppose so? It's not like I can talk to it, just repair it and adjust accordingly based on probable factors I've identified." She discusses the matter like it's no big deal, not understanding why she's being asked such elementary questions regarding her primary job detail.

"Speaking from the standpoint of ship security, I would suggest that Lt. Edison start cataloging the various issues and anomalies that come up with the uncertainty drive and the steps she's found to be effective in overcoming or circumventing them. It's a little unnerving to think that there's only one person on the ship who really knows what to do when something goes wrong with the alien tech that not only provides our propulsion but keeps us all from going Tangle crazy."

Clearing his throat, Danny says, "Actually, I've been compiling a list of issues from the various reports already." Addressing Avery hurriedly, he says, "I was planning to forward it to you as soon as I finished-- Why don't I just forward it to you right now."

He punches a few buttons on his PADD. "Done." He smiles at the engineer. "I could tell from the reports that you'd been pretty busy just dealing with the engine, so I thought it might help you out if I gave you a head start on the documentation."

A sudden realization seems to cross his mind and his gaze jerks toward McCurry. "I hope that's okay, captain. I didn't use time that should have been spent on my other duties. It was sort of a get-ahead-of-things project I did in some spare time."

McCurry actually laughs in response. "Lieutenant, if I have to personally approve every tangent my senior staff goes off on, I won't have any time to do my own job. Or eat. Or sleep. Maybe even breathe," she says, and waves her hand as though erasing something. "I applaud your initiative. Please keep Lt. Iron Eyes in the loop on these issues. In fact, make them available to all senior staff as a general rule, please."

She turns then to Edison. "Lieutenant, you are hereby returned to active duty. It is simply too dangerous to be undertaking a mission such as this with our primary expert on the uncertainty drive on the sidelines. We will discuss our earlier conversation when the time is appropriate, and make a determination on whether your assignment will continue."

She smiles tightly. "Welcome back."

Edgar's hackles shoot up at the adulteration of his scientific name for the disease. He pushes his chair back in indignation, his facial expression has The Nerve! written all over it.

"Excuse me Lieutenant, but with all due respect, the effect is called Entanglement Psychosis, and not Tangle Crazy, as you put it. I put a lot of thought into naming it. It's not like it's some kind of jig!"

The security chief is briefly startled by Edgar's outburst, but that quickly - and visibly - turns to anger. Her eyes flash and she is about to speak when the calm voice of Dr. T'Shen beats her to it.

"Dr. Mitsk is quite correct about the official name of the condition. I have often heard humans refer to it as 'Tangle Crazy,' which is both much less descriptively accurate and trivializing of the effects on the patient.

"However, I have noted a habit among humans of applying trivializing labels to things that they find frightening. My study of human psychology suggests that this is an attempt to gain a feeling of power over the thing that scares them."

She addresses Iron Eyes. "Lieutenant, it is entirely logical to feel trepidation about our impending exposure to the Tangle. If your use of the slang term for Entanglement Psychosis is an indicator of that trepidation, I would be gratified to share the latest literature on the early symptoms. Being armed with knowledge is the best defense against health-related fears."

Iron Eyes is staring at the doctor with an expression that suggests she has no idea where to begin to respond.

"Thank you, Dr. T'Shen, everyone. Entanglement psychosis is a real thing, and nothing to take lightly," says the captain.

As she opens her mouth to continue, she looks around as if realizing for the first time that the First Officer and Liaison Officer are not present. "Are they not back in the room yet?" she says, mostly to herself, but audible to the rest of the room, some small amount of irritation showing in her tone.

She turns to Blakeney and says, "Lieutenant, if you wouldn't mind tracking down our wayward officers for me, please? I'd like to wrap this meeting up before the entire mission window passes us by."

"Yes, sir." Blakeney rises from his chair and leaves the conference room. The camera follows him out into the hall, where he finds the liaison and first officer standing rather awkwardly beside the comm panel. Danny looks from one to the other, curiously.

He clears his throat slightly. "If you're finished out here, the captain would like you to rejoin the meeting."

Oobadek returns to the conference room and takes his previous seat. "I've requested the algorithms from our Institute, which is our central science and technology headquarters. I have not yet received a reply."

Hamilton sits stiffly after Oobadek.

Apologies for the delay, Captain McCurry. I set the message up with secondary Federation encryptions. The return message will come directly to your PADD and engineering, as well as Liaison Officer Oobadek's office, so he knows it arrived successfully.

Am I wrong to assume the Uncertainty Drive has been discussed? If this is the case, what other preparations do you need completed on the bridge?

McCurry nods in response to Hamilton.

"The drive has been discussed, yes. This seems an appropriate time to start on particular tasks. When the Inphirian Institute sends along the algorithms, I'd like Officer Oobadek and Lt. Edison to work on making certain we can coordinate tracking data with drive function. Lt. Commander Hamilton, I believe you have a background in navigational system code? Please take care of that side of things."

She taps her lower lip with a finger, mouth twisting slightly in thought. She turns to Blakeney. "Lieutenant, you've had leisure to familiarize yourself with the crew roster. Who would be a good choice to assist Hamilton?"

Blakeney brightens. "Yes, sir. Lieutenant Hargrove in Helm and Navigation and Lieutenant Hwang in Science both have significant in navigational system code, but I think I'd recommend Lieutenant Hironaka in Security. His coding background is less extensive, but he would bring a security perspective that I think Commander Hamilton would find beneficial."

"Excellent. Please inform Lt. Hironaka of his additional assignment and have him report to the Lt. Commander," says McCurry.

She continues to tap at her lower lip. "Until the algorithms are available, Counselor Mitsk, Officer Oobadek and I will discuss appropriate protocols for working with the Inphirians in an official capacity." She glances at Pleiades, "So that we can make certain we're following the rules," she says with a faint twinkle in her eyes. She turns back to Blakeney. "Please coordinate between the technical team and the protocol team, to make sure we're sharing information appropriately."

Her attention turns to Dr. T'Shen. "Please make certain that our medical facilities are properly ready to deal with any cases of entanglement psychosis. Have appropriate sedatives available, just in case. I'm hoping we won't need anything of the sort, but being prepared is rarely a bad thing."

The doctor inclines her head. "Certainly, captain. The sickbay will be fully prepared."

She turns to address Edgar. "Dr. Mitsk, I would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience about human psychology. As a Vulcan, I naturally have little direct experience with emotion. But as a physician to a largely human crew, I would like to be conversant with it in order to provide the support necessary to my patients. I believe your professional expertise will be invaluable to me."

A closed lipped smile begrudgingly appears on Edgar's face.

"Certainly Dr T'Shen. I'd be happy to discuss human psychology both in general and how it pertains to Tangle exposure. I have a some literature in the form of charts....cheat sheets if you will....showing human baseline behavior versus post Tangle exposure behavior. You might find these reference sheets useful."

Hamilton takes a slightly larger breath than usual when her assignment is made, but she remains otherwise unfazed.

"What more would you like us to handle before we part, Captain McCurry?"

The captain stands, resting her hands atop the conference table. "I think we've taken care of what needs taking care of for now. Let the story of the Hodgkin begin. May it be a legendary one," she says firmly. "I will stay here for a few moments if anyone wishes to speak to me individually, but otherwise... dismissed."