T'Prise

Meritorious Achievement Award T'Prise glanced at her department head, pausing for a moment before speaking. "Perhaps you are right; however, the events related to the Wanderlust have made me more cautious regarding my work." Escher nodded in agreement. "Damn right I'm right. We need people like you working on problems like this. I'm glad that you've decided to continue your research." "After a thorough review of the data, it was logical to conclude the accident was the result of another unauthorized test, which occurred after I had departed from the bridge," she continued, rationalizing the reasons for changing her decision. "Which means it wasn't your fault," he responded. "I never thought you were the error, T'Prise. You're much too meticulous of a scientist, and besides from what you tell me you weren't doing anything remotely likely to cause the accident." "Your vote of confidence notwithstanding, the reasonable course of action would be to continue the research," she replied. "The technology would be invaluable to the Federation." "As I said," he agreed. "I also must admit a slightly selfish motive - if you can figure out the problems, get a working model, the Manticore could be the first to be outfitted with the drive. It wouldn't be the first time we've been used as technological guinea pigs." He grew quiet for a moment as his memory took him back to all the times new technology went horribly wrong on the Manticore. Her next statement snapped him out of his reverie. "I have spent the past several days reviewing the data and created a holodeck program to simulate the Wanderlust and its initial engine tests. Perhaps you would care to review my findings?" Absolutely," he replied, very much taken aback. "I've never seen it simulated before." Returning her attention to the computer console, she began inputting commands. "Creating a simulation was helpfully in examining the incident." She pulled an isolinear chip from the computer console and stood. "Here is the program; we can use this to temporarily input it into the holodeck databanks." They exited the lab, moving towards the turbolift. "Holodeck," he requested as they entered the compartment. The lift moved, accelerating under their feet. They stood in companionable silence for a moment, before she spoke. "Sir, do you have any idea what this mission is that Inspector General Morris spoke of?" "I have no idea. You know...I've been on this ship for a few years, and I've never been offered the chance to leave before we embark on a new mission. I know that the Manticore regularly does insane stuff...but I'm honestly a little worried." They exited the lift and moved into the holodeck antechamber. Pulling out a panel on the console, T'Prise plugged the isolinear chip into a vacant slot and began tapping keys. "It is our duty to uphold that oath we took as Starfleet officers and never shirk our responsibilities to the Federation. However, why Inspector General Morris would suggest that we disregard our training and duties as Starfleet officers and desert the Manticore, is beyond all logical comprehension. While I am incapable of feeling anxiety regarding a mission, I do believe I understand your concern." Escher cocked his head, thinking over her statement. "Honestly, now that I think about it, we're on a Black Ops ship. If he had commandeered a standard ship for a dangerous mission, I would understand the warning. But anyone who would actually leave at that kind of invitation certainly wouldn't be aboard Manticore in the first place. It almost feels like…he's doing it for show." She finished with the console and turned to face the holodeck as the doors opened. "Perhaps he felt that with so many new crew members aboard, extending such an invitation would be wise." The black and yellow grid transformed to the bridge of a Nova Class Starship, operational, but unmanned. She turned to look at him. "Welcome aboard the USS Wanderlust, Commander Escher." He stepped onto the smallish bridge and looked with appreciation at the numerous science consoles dominating the room. She moved in behind him and slid into the cramped helm station directly in front of the captain's chair, bringing up a schematic on viewscreen. He moved toward the screen, tracing the designs with his fingers and whistling. "You guys have some advanced stuff. There must have been some real Starfleet muscle behind this operation." "The Nova class design is partially a result of collaborations between the Daystrom Institute and the Vulcan Science Academy," she replied without looking up. "Many Federation officials felt that Starfleet has been moving away from its pri mary function – space exploration – and new purely scientific vessels where needed to fulfill that purpose." She paused as her thoughts turned darker. "The Wanderlust, being a prototype, carried many newer technologies, still in the testing phase. I suspect this is why Starfleet kept its destruction quiet." He spoke in hushed tones as he ran his hands over the primary science console. "Damn...this is every scientist's dream. You're lucky to have been on it…" He trailed off, realizing how thoughtless his statement was. "Oh...uh...you know...not actually," he finished lamely. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I do not consider myself lucky; however, serving aboard the Wanderlust did provide me with many opportunities to advance my understanding and regard for scientific research." Escher nodded and sat down, running his hands over the console, becoming immersed in its function and design. "Did you have a chance to go over the information I provided you with? Do you understand the theories behind Quantum Slipstream?" T'Prise queried after a few awkward moments of silence. He responded without looking up. "Basically. You funnel a quantum field through the deflector, and create a quantum warp bubble through subspace - which propels you at speeds colloquially described as 'stupid fast.' " "Essentially you are correct, although we do not call it a quantum warp bubble. We are actually manipulating the space-time continuum at the quantum level, and understanding that theory requires a departure from the linear ideas we associate with time and space." He looked up at her in surprise. "Do you have an understanding of it? I know in the Academy that I could get the advanced quantum stuff in practice but had problems with it when it came to theory...which is what you seem to specialize in." "The theory does not change the basic tenants of time and space, only how we view them," she responded. "I could teach you the theories; however, I believe we have only learned a small fraction of the physics involved. Chris...Dr. Lamoreaux...used to say we had only waded into the ocean of understanding." Her use of her fallen colleague's given name led Escher to wonder if T'Prise had been more deeply connected with him than she let on. "That's why being in science in the 24th century is so exciting. New things are discovered every day, and we begin to understand just how limited our knowledge is. At first, it may seem daunting, but once you realize that the answers lie out there, somewhere...it is an uplifting feeling. I can't begin to imagine the kind of hope your team had with the Wanderlust." She was silent for a moment, taking in his comment, but unable to verbalize a reply in rational terms. "Creating a slipstream is not a simple as it sounds. Before a ship can travel through the slipstream, its hull must be rein forced to withstand the stresses found within quantum subspace. Additional specially calibrated inertial dampeners are needed to counter the effects of rapid acceleration/deceleration. The deflector itself must be constantly monitored in order to maintain a safe and stable passage through quantum subspace. We used antimatter to power all these additional systems." He pondered the logistics for a moment. "What kind of computer system did you use to calculate the slipstream dynamics? I was under the impression that Starfleet didn't have that computing power yet." "We used a modified LCARS. You will find the specifications on the disk I gave you. The computational and processing speeds where increased through the use of bio-neural gel packs." He could hear a little pride leaking through her voice. She was very proud of this ship. "So...can I see her fly?" he asked, turning back to his console. She nodded and turned her attention to the navigation controls. "Although this is a simulation, I will need you to monitor operations carefully. If the deflector calculations are off in the slightest measure, we will experience…problems." He gave her a sidelong glance. "The Holodeck safety protocols are still on, right?" "They have not been disabled, but we should perform this test as if we were operating the real Wanderlust," she replied, giving him an arch look. "Of course," he sighed, tapping through the display, bringing the deflector readout up on his console. "Ready when you are." She manipulated the helm controls, laying in coordinates and calibrating the deflector. "Our current position is near Jupiter Station. I will take us out of orbit to the moons of Saturn and open a portal to take us to Deep Space 17, three thousand light-years away. Engaging..." Propelled by its maneuvering thrusters, the Wanderlust glided out of orbit. The deflector hummed to life, locking into position. A portal appeared directly in front of the ship, a profusion of light and energy. A small movement and the Wanderlust had entered, passing through bluish-white bends and twists, flying around the quantum event that kept them suspended in the portal. The real source of wonder, though, was the focal point dead ahead of the ship. Escher gasped. The point showed a little bit of light from every position of their three thousand light-year journey, creating a depth-defying, shimmering phenomenon. It was incredible to behold. "How...how fast are we going?" He wondered aloud. "We have been working on a scale, but since we are exceeding warp speeds, I do not know if I can convey it in terms that are quantifiable," she responded. "Part of the nonlinear progression of space and time suggests we are actually in more than one location at the current time.' " "Right…" he replied, shaking his head. "Of course...well, what is our ETA?" She tapped her console. "We should exit the tunnel in approximately 3 minutes. Do you see how the Wanderlust is suffering from hull stresses here and here?" she asked, indicating highlighted sections of the ship on the monitor. He nodded. "What of it?" Her face displayed what he could only describe as concern. "This has been a common problem. I hypothesize that over time, usage of the slipstream drive will eventually cause stress fractures within a hull, compromising its integrity. This problem will have to be addressed. Another concern is that the deflector damaged by repeated use. It has to be continually calibrated and resurfaced in order to function properly." Escher looked amazed. "But these are all small, practical problems...the fundamental concept seems to be sound. This actually looks like it could be feasible. I never thought I'd see the day...." he trailed off amazed by the entire situation. The Wanderlust gracefully dropped out of slipstream portal, emerging back into regular space. She glanced at him while running her fingers over the helm, bringing the ship around. "I too believe the design is viable; however, the smallest miscalculation could be fatal when using the drive, and the underlying problems have yet to be resolved." He pondered the empty space. "T'Prise, you're all about logic...is it logical to assume that the project lead would have initiated an unauthorized, highly dangerous second run right after the known success and structural stresses of the first test? What could possibly be his motive for that?" She thought for a moment. "Are you acquainted with Dr. Kosinksi?" "No, I'm afraid not," he replied, shaking his head. Her face again displayed a look of concern. "When he became the head of the Peregrination Project, he seemed to be obsessed with proving that he could discover a new means of space travel that would change the face of Starfleet. I also have suspicions regarding the other work he was doing as part of the project, it was shrouded in secrecy." "You really think he was capable of doing this?" he asked earnestly, turning towards her. She hesitated before nodding slightly. "To be honest, I found him to be of only average intelligence, yet he was clever enough to put together a team capable of producing a viable engine design. However, he continually took credit for all the work accomplished by his team. The emotional motivations that compelled him are incomprehensible to me." She seemed frustrated. "In my experience, humans with their wide range of emotional states are capable of anything." "I'm as emotional as they come, and people like that still confuse me." He responded, sighing. "I realize how hard this may be, having research that must constantly remind you of your horrible past...so I thank you, on behalf of Starfleet, for continuing this work. It means a lot to me." "While your sentiments are appreciated, I do not believe that you need be concerned about my work on this project," she answered in a cool tone. "Logic dictates that the past is the past, and will remain so, having no effects on the present. Working on this project has become a legacy to my colleagues and nothing more." He sighed again. "I guess sometimes there is an advantage to having control over your emotions. I don't know any humans that could do what you're doing. He paused. "I should probably get back to the bridge. At this rate, Syndrx will probably have destroyed the console." She reached up and began to apply pressure to her temples. "You also have the senior staff meeting at 2300," she reminded him quietly. "Right," he nodded. "Hopefully they'll fill us in a little more on the situation then. I can't help but shake that bad feeling about this mission...I guess I should do a Vulcan and suppress these emotions." He stood up and started moving toward the exit. "If you wish, I can instruct you in the teachings of Surak. To alleviate some of the emotional stress you seem to be so concerned over," she offered quietly. Escher began to rub his temples as well. "No, no...it's okay. I just need to push it to the back. I enjoy my emotions very much." He looked at her strangely. "You know, I've never asked a Vulcan this before, but have you ever tried letting your emotions go? Even for a moment?" She looked up at him, unable to hide a surprised expression. "I believe that would be inadvisable. While we do not regularly speak of it to outsiders, there is a reason we turned away from our emotions and embraced logic," she bit out hesitantly. He decided not to press the issue further. "You have your reasons. But there's something about pure, unbridled joy that' so...wonderful...I don't know." He shook his head. "It's been a long day." She thought over his meaning for several moments before replying. "While human emotions do intrigue me, I have never contemplated experiencing them..." She trailed off as if she was speaking out of turn and then directed the conversation to a more neutral topic. "Do you require anything done in the lab? I thought I would perhaps join the shift that is about to begin." Escher waved his hand. "Nothing in particular...feel free to focus on your work. Computer, show exit." The Holodeck exit door shimmered into being. "Good luck, T'Prise. I wish you the best in your research." She stood still for several moments, after his departure, lost in thought. "Computer, end program." She directed, glancing over the scene one last time, before turning to leave. The bridge faded and the black and yellow grids reappeared as the door closed quietly behind her.

A vast darkness stretched and loomed, still and silent, the calm inky blackness devoid of any phenomena. Tiny pinpricks of distant light littered the landscape, helping to emphasize the barrenness and serenity of the empty expanse. In the far off distance, a tiny of shimmer of light began to softly emanate a blue-white brightness, starting off humbly, like the far off pinpricks, but growing rapidly in size and intensity. It quickly coalesced into a brilliant fusion of light and color, brightening the otherwise stygian void. From its center, something indefinable began to emerge, moving quickly and silent into the black. It cleared the portal of light, and as it did, the object's size and features became easily identifiable as a Nova Class starship; defined by its curved triangular shaped saucer and warp nacelles protruding from the secondary hull. As quickly as it had shimmered into existence, the lustrous portal disappeared, leaving behind no visible trace. The agile little vessel banked gracefully and traveled in a wide arc, which served the dual purpose of slowing the ship's momentum and bringing it around. As it moved to a holding position near where the portal had been only moments before, the markings on the hull became distinguishable: USS Wanderlust NCC-72168. "Computer, freeze program," T'Prise commanded, hands clasped behind her back as she studied the scene portrayed on the holowall in her quarters. She surveyed it critically, attempting to discover some sort of meaning from the image. "Return to time index 0.4175 and display the Wanderlust's speed and trajectory." The image reversed itself to the appropriate location and displayed the calculations requested. She studied them for a moment, but the numbers were well within acceptable parameters. "Display the Wanderlust's structural integrity and shield strength." The figures appeared, again within the normal limits established for the ship. Logic dictated that the initial test of the prototype engines was not a factor in the failure of the ship's structural integrity. According to the data, the first test indicated that the engines were working just fine, with no unusual deviations from their established functionality. This only supported her theory that the ship had to have been exposed to an unstable portal, which was capable of producing stresses that irrevocably altered the hull composition and caused the damage which would lead to structural failure. It was the only way to explain the accident. Had the original test portal reopened somehow? Such a phenomena had never occurred within any of the simulations and was very unlikely, but not outside the realms of possibility. However, the much more rational and plausible explanation was that the Wanderlust herself had produced another portal. Such an explanation would reasonably explain what happened to the ship, but defied comprehension. Kosinski was the only individual with the ability to authorize another test, but ordering such a test would have been illogical. Those orders would have countermanded his decision to have them launch a shuttlecraft for sensor deployment, as for safety reasons, such a launch was not possible inside a portal. While she was fully aware that for a human, Kosinski was considered particularly prideful and self-important, but she had never detected within him a low regard for the lives of his team. Although the unfortunate propensity of claiming sole credit for the work of his team, and the pursuit of accolades that accompanied significant scientific discoveries were noticeable flaws within his character, neither suggested that he was capable of sacrificing the integrity of the project in order to accelerate the testing process. The only explanation she could offer would be that Kosinski suffered from the same weakness as others of his species, he was ruled by his emotions and perhaps those had led to the events that caused the accident. Reaching up, she gently massaged her temples, attempting to stave off the headache that plagued her. Such conjectures as these were outside the scope of hard fact and leading her away from finding the real answers she sought. Logic dictated that the answers always existed within truth and reality. While emotion was a factor within her understanding, it had not been the cause of the accident. She winced slightly as her headache grew in intensity. The fact that she was still unable to contact Admiral Vechnesk and she had not slept in 83 hours, were contributing to its strength. It would seem a prudent measure to take of a brief rest period. However, that would require a trip to sickbay, as she would be unable to gain any restful sleep without some form of chemical aid to ward off the disturbing images that crept into her unconscious mind. While she was able to achieve some degree of balance through meditation, her body did require the rejuvenation only found in repose. "Computer, terminate program and save," she instructed, turning to exit. As she moved down the corridor to the turbolift, she made a mental note to schedule some time at the monastery in Mount Seleya when the opportunity presented itself. The priestesses would be able to aid her in purging the unwanted memories and emotions that had accompanied her since the accident and took concentrated effort to suppress. Her conversation with Escher and the genuine concern he had displayed only brought them back to the surface, suggesting that she was far more vulnerable to human frailties than previously supposed.

"...that's it? Perhaps this Admiral thought you could get a better perspective on your project from the vantage point of an active ship, and no other ship would take someone doing your kind of propulsion work. Does that fit?" T'Prise stared at Escher for a long moment, her impenetrable gaze unreadable. "I do not believe that your supposition applies in this situation, sir..." The starbase lounge was empty except for the two huddled at a table in the far corner. Through the panoramic windows the damaged Manticore could be seen, worker bots buzzing around it, slowly nursing back to health. "You seem to know something," he replied, giving her a sidelong glance. "While your description is very apt, it is a fallacious conclusion. I knew nothing regarding certain matters." "Knew? As in past tense?" It began to dawn on Escher that there was a lot more to this Ensign than met the eyes. "That is essentially correct. When I was assigned to the Manticore, I was informed that the ship was a proverbial tugboat. The fact that it is a Black Operations assignment was never covered in any of my briefs." "So you were reassigned from a research career to a starship without knowing it was Black Ops? What is going on here?" "I am also interested in the answer to that question. As you suggested earlier, Admiral Vechnesk might have thought I would benefit from shipboard experience. However, I doubt that this is the case, considering our research team had a ship." "You obviously have your theories." She hesitated for a second before replying, obviously thinking over her next words. "Sir, what is your security clearance?" A slightly chagrined look played across his face as he realized guiltily that his time aboard a Black Ops ship had made him forget his clearance level. "High enough. Continue." "What do you know about the Theoretical Propulsions Group?" she queried quietly. His eyes widened at her question. "I've heard mutterings. 'Slipstream' and 'quantum field propulsion' get bandied about whenever they're mentioned, but it's all third party." A look of displeasure appeared on T'Prise's face at the mention of the human inclination to spread rumors. "You heard correctly. We were commissioned by the Advanced Technologies Division of the Starfleet Science Directorate and tasked with the job of creating a Quantum Slipstream Engine." A low whistle issued from his lips. "You're going to need more than a spider cage to contain that kind of stuff." She frowned at his jest. "The research was going very well...we had constructed a working prototype engine aboard one of the new science vessels, a Nova-class starship, named the USS Wanderlust." "Well, I approve of whoever named the ship." Escher said backhandedly. "I was under the impression we simply didn't have the engine power to create that kind of quantum bubble or the computer power to keep it running. Where did all this tech come from?" She gave him a slightly condescending look, raising an eyebrow at his question. "Sir, I assume that you have been in Starfleet long enough to know that the Daystrom and the Science Directorate often keep the technological advancements they have made secret. The prototype was the result of years of highly classified research." "Well, yes, I know that. I just felt that being the science chief of a black ops ship would somehow...circumvent that blockade…" he trailed off with a shrug. "I guess not. In what capacity did you contribute to the ship's engines?" "My expertise is in quantum physics. I developed the algorithms necessary to create the slipstream portals and navigate through them." "If I had known you could do that...well, it certainly would have been nice to include it on your resume. So were you chief science officer on the ship?" he asked, staring at her with interest. "No, Dr. Kosinski was in charge of the mission and the project. We had just completed the first in a long schedule of tests on the prototype when the accident occurred," she stated mechanically. "Accident?" His attention focused sharply on the junior officer. She looked down for a moment, hesitating. "The Wanderlust was destroyed." "What happened? I thought you guys were ready to do this?" he inquired intently. She was silent for a long moment, and then answered hesitantly. "The cause of the accident is the subject of some speculation. No one knows what happened. I theorize that the Wanderlust was unable to withstand the stresses found within the slipstream portals. Structural integrity was breached and the ship torn apart." She paused for a moment. "Starfleet kept this very quiet." "How did you survive?" he asked quietly. "Dr. Kosinski ordered Lieutenant Lamoreaux and I to take a shuttle craft and run sensor scans of the Wanderlust, to validate the data already collected," she replied softly, before again lapsing into silence. After several tense moments, she awkwardly volunteered another piece of information. "Both the computer core and the black box were destroyed when the ship came apart. Starfleet was unable to retrieve any information from the Wanderlust's logs." "Were you and Lamoreaux the only survivors?" he asked, the tone of his voice hushed and reserved. A spasm of something akin to pain flashed in her eyes for a brief second before she could check it. "Lamoreaux did not survive. I was the only crew member who lived." Escher, noticing her slight crack in composure, decided not to pursue any more information concerning the incident. "So you arrived back at your lab and you were reassigned to a tugboat, out of the blue?" "Yes. After the inquiry, I told Admiral Vechnesk that the research and prototype were flawed and that we should return to working on the project at the theoretical level. At first, he seemed to accept the recommendation; however, a few weeks later I was ordered to report to the Manticore where I would be completing the prototype design and sending weekly reports to the admiral." Her tone was cool and even, all evidence of any emotion having disappeared, the logical Vulcan mask slipping back into place. Escher pondered. "Perhaps I'm jaded, but the only reason that a theoretical scientist gets reassigned to a far-off ship with year-long missions and a high mortality rate is if someone wants to get rid of said scientist." "Logic dictates this to be a valid supposition. It is supported by the news I just received from my colleague at the Daystrom. When I spoke to Saleris to request the equipment for our refit, he informed me that their computer core had experienced a power failure several days ago a lot of data was lost, including all information pertaining to the Theoretical Propulsion Group." "How convenient. Starfleet is covering their tracks," Escher replied, nodding. "This is a backup I created before leaving the Institute to report for duty here." She held up the data disc she had been examining earlier. "However, that assumption is incongruent with the orders I received yesterday from Admiral Vechnesk. I am being reassigned, to the Science Directorate back in San Francisco." "Wait…what? That makes...that makes no sense," he stated, nonplussed. "Is this the same Admiral that posted you to Manticore in the first place?" An unreadable expression crossed her face. "Yes, he was also in charge of the Peregrination Project." "What did that involve?" "The quantum slipstream engine and some other research pertaining to quantum physics and antimatter. It involved some experiments Dr. Kosinski's was conducting, but he never kept the team apprised of what they entailed." "So...now what? Is this the last I'll see of Ensign T'Prise?" Another pause. "I do not know sir. I have decided to request that my assignment be extended aboard Manticore." Escher nodded. "Good decision. I could use you around. Scientists like you are one in a million." Her head inclined to acknowledge the compliment. "I believe that it might be a miscommunication though, sir. I attempted to contact Admiral Vechnesk after receiving the orders, but was told by his aide that he is unavailable. I then spoke to the personnel office at Starfleet headquarters and was informed that no such orders had been issued." He silently pondered this development for several moments. "Hmm...everything Starfleet has done other than the orders you just received points to a standard cover-up operation. The fact that you received those orders, though...to me that speaks of a volume of impending trouble. Something's up, Ensign, and I think you're in the middle of it." "I believe it is time for me to start my own investigation of what happened aboard the Wanderlust," she stated, agreeing with his assessment of the situation. "Remember, T'Prise, that you're probably about to wade into some treacherous waters. That being said, I'm totally behind you, and if any of my contacts or knowledge can help you, just ask. I know it doesn't fall under my job description, but the events after we emerged from that wormhole really made me doubt the validity of Starfleet's noble front. Anything I can do to expose corruption or sliminess will be much appreciated." "Your candor and offer to assist in this matter is greatly appreciated, sir. I will be sure to make my inquiries very carefully. I know that we have not served together long, but you have proven to be trustworthy and resourceful." Picking up the data disc she leaned forward and held it out towards him. "I believe that at this juncture, it would be prudent for someone else to keep this. If something unwarranted is occurring, it is logical to speculate that those perpetrating it will know about my knowledge of and involvement in the project. The information on that disc is too important to fall into the wrong hands." Reaching out, he took the disc from her hand and held it up, staring out it almost reverently. "Wow...slipstream in the palm of my hands." He smiled wanly. "And you plan on continuing what work you can continue on the Manticore?" "Until I find out what happened to cause the accident, it would be neither safe nor logical to continue working on the prototype." Pulling away from him slightly, she continued. "I might have been the cause, and if that was the case, I do not want to be responsible for the use of that technology." A frown spread over Escher's features. "T'Prise, from what I've seen of you, you do not make mistakes. Whatever went wrong on that ship, there wasn't anything you could do about it. Do not beat yourself up about it. As long as no slipstream bubbles are being generated, I give you permission to continue your research. I feel - even if you don't - that such research is too important for the advancement of Starfleet to be thrown out in the trash due to one mistake. I know that this is a mistake that we can't learn from, so I understand your hesitancy - but I implore you not to give this up entirely." The supercilious expression, so typical of Vulcans, returned. "Sir, with all due respect, I believe you are incorrect. It would be neither logical nor appropriate for me to continue the research. My colleagues are all dead, you were right in your earlier assumption that a slipstream drive is very advanced for Starfleet's current technological development. Whatever the cause, we did not take the proper security measures to stop this accident from happening and have nothing to tell us how to prevent it from occurring again. Nothing will bring back the lives that were lost and although death is part of being in Starfleet, unreasonable risks were taken and should not be taken again. The research cannot continue until we know the cause." He sighed. "I guess you won't be moved. Well, if you don't mind, I will study the disc, on an unnetworked computer, of course. Propulsion isn't my specialty, but I'll see what I can get from it. T'Prise..." he trailed off, and stared into her eyes. "I'm truly sorry for what happened on the Wanderlust. I know there's nothing I can say, and I know that Vulcans don't really do emotion...however, you should know, that not as a commanding officer, but as a friend, I'm always here if you need me." His words caused further retreat behind her emotionless mask. "Thank you, sir. I would appreciate your perspective on my work," she allowed stiffly, an uncomfortable silence rising between them as they stared at each other, unsure of what to say. T'Prise broke the silence. "I need to return to the lab, there are still some unfinished tasks that need to be completed." At her abrupt statement, he broke off, nodding slightly. "Yes, of course. I don't suppose I could convince you to enjoy your shore leave." She stood, placing her bowl in back in the replicator. "It is inappropriate for officers to not be working when there are clearly tasks to be completed." Her tone was diffident and disengaged. "If you say so. Well, enjoy the downtime. Knowing the Manticore, we'll be back in some sort of hellish nightmare with our very lives at stake within the week," he stated vaguely, attention focused on the disc. T'Prise turned slowly moving towards the door, yet hesitating slightly as a contemplative look graces her features. Buried underneath the Vulcan austerity and years of adhering strictly to logic was the impulse to say something else, but she pushed it down and exited the lounge. Escher watched her go, turning the disc in his hands, deep in thought.

The room was stark and utilitarian, identical to all the other Federation Starbase medical facilities found throughout the sector. A small group of officers, all attired in command red, were clustered around a solitary biobed. The patient sat with a stoic expression, as if she was merely tolerating their presence. Off to one side stood a blue-coated doctor, who eyed the entire tableaux askance until one of the officers dismissed her with a curt nod. He was a tall, stately, man with silver hair and an admiral's insignia affixed to his collar. As the doctor retreated, the questioning began. "Please state your name, rank, and serial number for the record," the Admiral instructed, his voice tinged with a slight Russian accent. The patient, a young Vulcan, raised her eyebrow but complied with the request. "T'Prise, Ensign, RJ-426-791." "And do you understand that this interview is being recorded in accordance with Starfleet Regulation 0285/4J39 as part of the investigation regarding the incident aboard the USS Wanderlust?" the Admiral continued in an authoritative tone. "I am aware that this interview is being recorded, Admiral," T'Prise replied tersely. "In your own words, could you please describe the events leading up to the destruction of the Wanderlust?" "Sir, as I indicated before, I was not on the bridge at the time of the accident. It would therefore be illogical for me to attempt to describe the circumstances leading up to the accident." At her words, the Admiral and his small contingent silently exchanged significant looks, as if to measure the truthfulness of her statement. After a pause, the Admiral resumed his questioning. "Ensign, we are not asking you to speculate as to the cause of the accident; we merely wish to know what you were doing when it occurred." "Lieutenant Lamoreaux and I were preparing a shuttlecraft for launch. I was running through the preflight procedures when the computer first alerted me that there was a problem." "And why were you launching a shuttlecraft?" "After we completed the first test of the prototype engine, Dr. Kosinski ordered the Lieutenant and I to take a shuttlecraft and run a full set of sensor scans on the Wanderlust and her engines. That way, we would have an independent source to collaborate sensor data obtained from the Wanderlust herself." At this, the Admiral raised an eyebrow. "Kosinski ordered the two of you to gather sensor data?" T'Prise paused before answering, as if to correctly formulate her response. "While it is not my place to question the orders of a superior, I felt it to be an illogical assignment. As Lieutenant Lamoreaux and I were the officers most familiar with the design and mechanics of the prototype engine, it would have been more logical that we man the helm, operations, and engineering consoles during any subsequent tests. The lieutenant was in agreement with my assessment; he expressed as much to me after we departed for the shuttle bay. However, Kosinski was the commander of our mission and we complied with his orders." "What happened when you reached the shuttle bay?" "We began to prepare the Tesla for deployment. As a type-11 shuttlecraft, it had the most advanced sensor array. While the lieutenant performed the requisite visual checks outside the Tesla, including releasing the docking restraints, I ran through the preflight procedures required for launch. Before I could complete those procedures, a deviation occurred within the yaw axis of the Wanderlust's current course, causing the ship to pitch forward and gyrate wildly. I attempted to establish communications with the bridge, but there was no response." She paused for a moment in her narration before continuing. "The gyrations and vibrations of the ship became more severe, so I made another attempt to contact Dr. Kosinski, but still received no answer. Lieutenant Lamoreaux then appeared in the Tesla's aft hatch and stated that operational controls indicated that the Wanderlust had entered another slipstream portal. As we had not been informed that a second test would be conducted, and we were unable to establish communications outside the shuttle bay, we both determined that it would be prudent to return to the bridge. Before I could exit the Tesla, we heard emergency alerts which indicated that the structural integrity of the ship was failing and hull breaches were imminent, and saw the primary and auxiliary control systems of the shuttle bay go offline." Another pause. "A particularly violent movement of the Wanderlust caused the Tesla to pitch forward and roll across the deck. I saw Lieutenant Lamoreaux press the hatch release, sealing me inside the shuttle, before he was thrown free of the craft. The unanticipated motion of the Tesla hurled me against the port bulkhead, where I sustained a head injury that knocked me unconscious. I regained consciousness in the Barton's sickbay, where the medical personnel where treating me for the head injury, a fractured clavicle, bruised ribs, and various other internal injuries. I was informed that the Tesla had been found amongst debris and wreckage of what had been the Wanderlust." She fell silent, impassive and taciturn, turning an impenetrable gaze at her interrogator, challenging him to ask any more questions. However, the Admiral and his contingent remained reserved, scrutinizing the Vulcan, mentally assessing the veracity of her story. Several moments passed before anyone spoke. "Your statements are consistent with the information we were able to obtain from the Wanderlust logs and those of the rescue crews…" An arm reached out to halt the image playback on the computer console, its bright red sleeve brushing against the data PADDs littering the desktop. A sigh escaped Ensign Holdaway's lips as he took the time to straighten up the PADDs and shut down the computer terminal. Turning towards the doorway, he paused for a moment to conduct a brisk visual inspection of the room, then stooped to pick up a coffee mug that lay carelessly overturned upon the floor. Expeditiously returning the mug to the replicator so that its matter could be recycled, he moved to exit the room, stepping over the prone body of Admiral Vechnesk, whose tall, stately figure lay sprawled across his office floor, silver hair glinting in the low lighting and arms splayed out in front of him. His right hand was curled as if he had been grasping something, mere inches away from where the coffee mug had lain only moments before.

"The draft of this week's intelligence reports are completed, sir." Admiral Sergei Vechnesk looked up from his monitor to find his aide, Ensign Holdaway, standing in the office doorway, clutching a stack of data PADDs. "Very good, Ensign; please take them down to Communications for encryption and have them dispatched immediately." "Understood, sir." The Admiral watched the enthusiastic young officer depart before returning to his computer terminal. The screen contained a weeks-old report regarding the disappearance of the Manticore, the latest in a long list of files regarding the Peregrination Project. Again, the Admiral questioned the wisdom in his decision to assign Ensign T'Prise to the Black Ops ship. He had thought she would be safe aboard the Manticore, away from prying eyes, able to continue her research and eventually provide the puzzle piece needed to complete the project and provide Starfleet with the ability to travel farther than they ever had before. The applications of the technology created by the project were useful in a myriad of ways, but most importantly in both defense and intelligence gathering. Slipstream propulsion would change the face of the Federation. Sighing, he retrieved a report detailing the investigation into the disaster aboard the Wanderlust. Its computer core had been completely destroyed during the accident, so the information recovered was minimal and incomplete. Using reports from the Daystrom, Vechnesk had been able to determine that Kosinski, the head of the project, had merely been deadweight, claiming the significant breakthroughs made by Lamoreaux and T'Prise as his own. How that puffed-up popinjay had been put in charge of the project still baffled Vechnesk, especially given Kosinski's reputation and the incident aboard the Enterprise involving a being known as the Traveler, years before. But Kosinski was dead, along with Tarez, Laarin, and Lamoreaux, and the Wanderlust was in pieces. These losses had derailed the project, but Vechnesk had been confident that eventually T'Prise would finish the work. Now she was missing, along with the crew of the Manticore. Cursing, Vechnesk shut off his screen. While as an officer, T'Prise was very expendable, the knowledge she carried in her inestimable Vulcan brain was an invaluable asset to Starfleet. He should never have given her a shipboard assignment. She had not been properly briefed on the true mission of the Manticore and was most likely ill-prepared to serve aboard such a ship. There was also still the possibility that what occurred on the Wanderlust was no accident, and she could be in danger. It had been foolish to put the only chance they had of reviving the project any time soon aboard a starship. This would set them back years, perhaps even decades. Without Lamoreaux or T'Prise to interpret them, the research and findings of the Theoretical Propulsion Group would mean nothing. Slipping out from behind the desk, he moved to the replicator, ordering a strong cup of black coffee before sitting down on the couch that occupied one corner of his office. Grabbing a data PADD from the corner of his desk, he perused the list of quantum physicists and engineers currently in Starfleet's Science Corps, but with little hope that he would find a solution to his problem. He heard the doors to his office slide open and glanced up to see Ensign Holdaway return. "The report has been dispatched, sir. Here is the latest communiqué from Intelligence," Holdaway said, handing him another data PADD, tsking as he retrieved the Admiral's empty coffee mug and straightened up the unkempt desk. Vechnesk merely leaned back to peruse the reports on the new PADD, ignoring his aide. Seconds later, he stood up abruptly as he read the news that that the Manticore had returned and was currently being towed to a starbase. Holdaway looked at him inquiringly, but he ignored the attentive ensign. Apparently the Manticore had appeared out of nowhere, traveling at speeds exceeding the current level of warp measurement, and collided with the Grundy. The report indicated that there it was heavily damaged and that there were casualties. "That will be all Ensign," Vechnesk barked at Holdaway, eager to dismiss his aide. He needed to talk to the others, and hopefully, he could issue orders recalling a certain science officer to the Advanced Technologies Division.

Considering all the factors and variables involved, the injuries might have been much worse, thought T'Prise, as she scrutinized herself in the mirror. A gash running approximately two inches down her hairline, from forehead to temple was the only visible indication of trauma. Reaching up mechanically, she removed the pins that held her hair in place and freed it, feeling the length brush against her shoulders and back. Wetting a towel in the basin, she began to bathe away the blood that seeped from her wound and crusted in her hair, being careful to only prod gently. Although it stung, the abrasion needed cleansing. A healing trance, invoked subconsciously sometime after the Manticore collided with the Sovereign Class, had repaired the internal problems. Her head still ached duly, but the pain was tolerable. A perceptible soreness also lingered throughout her body, no doubt caused by being thrown on impact. However, all of these trivialities were insignificant right now. Her primary objective was to restore her equilibrium so that she could return to duty and aid in repairing the ship. After her injudicious attempt to use a turbolift upon release from sickbay, she had realized the ship's systems were all offline, with only minimal power available. Their status was much more critical than her initial assessment indicated and although she could be of help in bringing systems back online, there was currently no easy way to reach the command center, or contact anyone aboard ship. Returning to sickbay, which had its own power source and still seemed to be functioning adequately, seemed the only logical option. She had briefly considered rerouting power from sickbay to restore the comm systems, but realized any attempt to do so would be futile, as sickbay's systems where all isolated from the rest of the ship in order to allow the module to function independently. Disposing of the towel, now stained green, in the laundry receptacle, she deftly twisted her hair back into place, smoothing the sections behind her pointed ears before securing it. One last glance in the mirror indicated that her injury was now clean. She would have one of the doctors perform a dermal regeneration to prevent scarring at a later time. Right now they were busy with the more serious injuries. With so many crew members incapacitated at the moment, tending to them was a more appropriate use of the medical staff's time. The persistent throb in her head, as she exited the lavatory, heading back out into the main section of sickbay, functioned as a reminder of her own injuries. Dr. Chalice was attending to Lieutenant Commander Mizu, while another physician, the one who had seen to her injuries earlier, Dr. Silviu, she believed, stood over Dr. Mele. On another biobed, Lieutenant T thrashed around, undoubtedly causing himself further injury. Other medical staff converged upon him. Glancing around, T'Prise found a quiet corner in another section of sickbay and knelt down, beginning the appropriate breathing exercises. Several minutes of meditation would restore her equanimity and stop the headaches; thus enabling her to more judiciously assess the situation and determine a rational course of action. She closed her eyes, seeking that calm, quiet place. Briefly she became aware of strange images and thoughts, all pertaining to memories of a memorial services for a colleague some months earlier. Before she could examine them, they disappeared, like streams of plasma, venting out into open space, slipping just to the edge of perception. Utilizing her carefully cultivated mental discipline she shifted focus, concentrating on the situation at hand. Now was not the time to pursue wayward thoughts, especially those most likely created by the trauma to her head. She began to compartmentalize, pushing everything away for later study and analysis. Her respiratory systems slowed as she probed further into her mind, seeking the serenity found within. When she opened her eyes several moments later, all of the pain within her body had disappeared. Her breathing and heartbeat were now normal and her head was clear. Standing she made her way over to Dr. Chalice. If the medical staff did not require her assistance, she would attempt to access the bridge using the Jeffries Tubes and service crawlways.

From her position at the secondary science station on the bridge, T'Prise was able to watch the Manticore's rapid progress through the subspace portal. She swiftly ran through a series of mental calculations. If they did not emerge soon, the ship would begin to break apart. It could only end in disaster, and this time, it would be her fault. By blindly allowing herself to believe that this time it would be different, and by remaining silent regarding her research, she had assumed culpability for whatever happened to the ship and its crew. Unlike the artificial portals created as part of the Peregrination Project, this portal was naturally occurring, needing only the slightest manipulations by the crew to begin its formation process. The supposition that these two types of portals were theoretically dissimilar, encouraged her silence regarding familiarity with this type of phenomenon; she was unwilling to divulge classified information without specific orders to do so. The speed at which they moved was causing telltale pressures upon the structural integrity of the ship's infrastructure. All around her, systems were failing. She had seen these types of failures before; now they served as good indication that natural portals were similar to artificial ones. As they hurtled through the passage at an indeterminate speed, it would only be a matter of time before structural integrity totally failed. Starfleet did not construct their ships to withstand the types of stresses created by these portals; the accident aboard the Wanderlust had proved that. Before she could give credence to the thoughts and calculations running through her head, they emerged from the portal, still traveling at an indeterminate speed, momentum flinging them forward. Sparks flew from her station as it overloaded from the shift back into normal space. Glancing over at Escher she could see that his station was damaged as well; none of the sensors are online. The ship shuddered and banked as Mizu attempted to steady the helm. Just off their bow stood a Sovereign Class Starship, part of the blockade sent to stop the supposed invasion. Atragon and Sovak both began to shout orders, attempting to take control of the situation. A collision was unavoidable; it came with a sickening crunch of alloy against alloy, a high-pitched, deafening squeal. Its impact threw her across the science area; pain exploded in her head as she slammed into one of the stations. She fell to the floor, vision obscured by errant strands of hair falling over her eyes. She tried to move her head to shake them away, but the pain was too much. Something sticky ran across her forehead, tangling in her hair. Attempting to retain conscious, she sifted through her thoughts, trying to grasp onto something as reality became tenuous. Trivialities flitted through her head. She needed to report to sickbay for a physical, she had left her teacup in the science lab, Escher still confused her with the previous science officer, Ensign Nupursen. She could not fight the darkness it was too strong. As it overtook her, one last thought floated to the surface, just out of reach. This is my fault. ***** The disorientation left her confused. From somewhere far away, she could hear an assortment of voices, mixed together, perhaps all speaking at once. Unable to understand them, she pushed them to the back of her mind, and slowly they slipped from her reality… The heat was stifling, made only more so by the heaviness of her ceremonial robes. It was not the arid, desiccated heat of ShiKahr, where she had attended secondary school, or the balmy, soothing heat of her family home in Raal. Instead, it was a heavy heat, infused with moisture; so heavy, one could almost reach out and grasp it. A humid, subtropical heat, a climate not found on Vulcan. Someone was speaking, in a low, reverent tone, speaking of someone she knew. More people stood around her, silently listening to the voice. Most dressed in black. Some held musical instruments, others squares of white cloth, which they used to wipe the moisture from their eyes. She saw faces of fallen colleagues, Kosinski, Tarez, and Laarin, among the crowd, something was not right, they did not belong here. Looking around, she noticed the grassy lawn beneath her feet and the marble pillars dotting the landscape, the one nearest was some type of monument. Turning her head, she gazed at it, reading the epitaph inscribed upon it. Ici Reposent Henri Christophe Lamoreaux. She knew this place, had been here before. The memorial service for Dr. Lamoreaux, or Chris, as he had insisted everyone call him, one of her colleagues in the Theoretical Propulsion Group. Chris had grown up in a city called New Orleans, an old city by Earth standards, full of history and culture. Duty dictated her attendance at this service, to honor her fallen friend. The rescue crews had found Chris alive among the wreckage; however, injuries sustained during decompression eventually proved fatal, making her the only survivor of the tragedy. She was the last of the Wanderlust crew, only she held the memories of what had happened aboard. The holy man conducting the memorial service concluded his remarks and those holding instruments started to play. People began to sing, a soulful, melancholy song. She bowed her head paying her last respects and listened to the song, trying to understand its meaning. As the song ended another one began, this one discordant from the solemn demeanor previously displayed. The tune was jubilant, joyful. A type of music not usually associated with earth funeral customs. A procession began, moving away from Chris's monument and out of the burial ground; those playing instruments led the way, followed by the others, who were moving in time to the music. She looked for her colleagues in the crowd, but did not see them. They are gone, she reminded herself, like Chris they had not survived. Lingering for a moment, saying one last farewell to them all, she soon moved to follow the revelers, who only moments before had been mourners. The procession flowed into the street and progressed along it; people stopped to watch. She stayed back, merely observing the proceedings, following along slowly. As the procession moved on, the music died away and she began to shiver as if cold. The sky was now dark and she was alone again, always alone. She hurried along, slipping into a narrow lane, trying to find her way back, back to something, but to what she was unsure. The voices began again, still far away, following her … those ships look battle ready … Engineering, status! … Medical kit. Now! … She walked faster now, her vision blurring as she tried to escape the voices. Turning onto another street, she moved toward the neon signs flashing brightly before her, advertising some type of social gathering place. The Redstar Nightclub. The voices faded, her vision sharpened. Hesitating at the door, she looked in to find the club empty. A small table, unobtrusively obscured by shadows stood against the wall in the back. Making her way in, she sat down at the table, hoping the voices would not follow her. She did not fear the them, that would be both irrational and illogical, but something in her did not wish to confront them at this time. Before her on the table sat a data PADD, identical to those she used at the Daystrom. Lifting it to peruse its contents, her eyebrow raised. It contained her third foremother's recipe for plomeek broth. This was something kept only within the family, as the dish was renowned throughout the Raal Province. She, herself, only prepared the broth on special occasions, when she felt the need to remember her home. The last time she prepared the broth was prior to the catastrophe aboard the Wanderlust. As she scrolled through the recipe, the instructions changed, became her calculations for manipulating the space-time continuum on a quantum level. This equation was incorrect, something within its fundamental principles was faulty, it was not the equation she had painstakingly developed, someone had changed it. Use of this equation would no doubt result in the destruction of a ship. As she contemplated the changes, the symbols dissolved before her eyes, reverting back to the original calculations. Scrolling down further she saw slight modifications to her formulas and theorems, modifications influenced by the data from the natural portal. The applications of it were intriguing; perhaps data gained from her experiences in the Andromeda Galaxy could fix the problems inherent in artificial portals. Pressing the screen, she attempted to scroll down, to see the data models, but there were none. Setting the PADD down on the table, she pushed it away, trying to think, trying to figure out the implications. The voices returned, this time louder and more audible … chopped up for scrap? … I need comms, now! She reached for the PADD, but it was blank, the information gone. The disorientation returned; something was changing. Turning toward the door, she could see that darkness had descended once again and it was coming for her, stealing into her reality. It was not time yet, she needed to find answers, this was her fault. She was at the door, and the blackness had returned, slipping around her once again.

Stardate 50808.53 …since coming aboard. Disturbing images of the Wanderlust continually interrupt my REM cycle. It is apparent that my nightly meditation is not adequate in and of itself to clear my mind; the additional employment of neuropressure might be helpful. However, without the presence of an appropriate partner, I will not be able to utilize the techniques adequately. Perhaps I can create a holographic program for my needs. It was astonishing to find that much of the equipment and technology aboard the Manticore is not standard issue for Starfleet vessels. I have come across several systems and devices that are the products of the research done by colleagues of mine in Advanced Technologies and still in the experimental stage. This has made me suspect that my research and area of expertise are indeed why Admiral Vechnesk gave me this posting. My observations of the ship and its crew have led me to believe that the information I was given pertaining to its primary mission is not the strictly correct. My suspicions regarding this matter were strengthened when I learned that the ship has been ordered to a remote region in the Alpha Quadrant along with several other Starfleet vessels to investigate a spatial anomaly, believed to be a precursor to slipstream technology, and that this phenomena mayalso indicate the beginnings of an invasion. It is plausible the Admiral merely wanted a scientific specialist on this mission and that I may return to the Daystrom upon its completion… Stardate 50810.37 …unable to stabilize Commander Farrington's condition, which continued to deteriorate. She disappeared from the ship soon afterwards, taken by the Qin-A, perhaps in an attempt to aid her. Morale amongst the crew seems to be wavering between anger, and frustration, which will do nothing to assist our attempts at finding a way home. Information brought back by the away teams has aided in our understanding of the planet and its phenomena, but without full sensor scans it will take more time to determine the cause of the dampening field. So far, I have only been able to postulate one theory regarding the origins of the field. Data provided by Lieutenant Commander Escher and Lieutenant Syndrx, suggests that the planet contains a high concentration of dense quartzite deposits. Because this is a binary system, it is reasonable to assume that the quartzite is being bombarded by an intense amalgamation of electromagnetic and particle radiation, emitted from the stars. This would cause the quartz to resonate, which in turn might create a dampening field. If this supposition is correct, using the piezoelectric properties of the quartz to turn it into a crystal oscillator might allow us to adjust our systems to subvert the dampening field. However, in order to test this hypothesis, I would need to know the exact frequencies at which the quartz was resonating, something I am unable to determine due to the lack of sensor data. The current situation has given me ample time to consider what I have learned since coming aboard. To say that Admiral Vechnesk misrepresented the true mission of this ship would be a gross understatement. I have discovered that the term "space tug" does not truly apply to the Manticore, although the title of troubleshooter, if taken very literally, is more apropos. Despite the fact that as a junior officer I am not privy to the specifics of how missions are assigned, or part of the command structure, simple observation has provided me with additional insight. Most of the crew I have spoken with assumed I was already aware that the ship functions as a Special Operations vessel, under the discretion of the Consul General… Stardate 50811.23 …working with Lieutenant Commander Mizu and Krell, we were able to eliminate the effects of the dampening field on the ship's systems. This has allowed us to reestablish direct contact with the away teams and for them to transfer data to the ship. Lieutenant Commander Escher has requested that I analyze the data he is collecting from the Qin-A, in order to calibrate the ship's sensors to trigger the exact harmonic frequencies within the planet needed to reopen the phenomena that brought us here. I have been attempting to create a data model of the harmonic adaptation of both the ship and the quartzite mountain to the correct frequency and have met with some success, which in turn has allowed me to program a modulated sensor algorithm. In a few hours, we will be able to test his solution, which I believe is much more viable than the suggestion of Commander Garnoopy, who wishes to open a subspace rift to our last known coordinates in the Alpha Quadrant. Having seen firsthand the destruction caused by small isolytic bursts, it would be abhorrent contemplate the effects of creating a large enough rift to transport the ship through. I cannot allow what occurred aboard the Wanderlust, or something similar, to happen again. Using the ship as a harmonic adapter to trigger the reopening of the wormhole phenomena is a more feasible, not to mention a more stable, solution for getting the ship back home. Despite increased meditation time and the application of neuropressure, the nocturnal visions are still occurring. I can only surmise something must be exacerbating the problem. Due to our current situation, I have yet to report for my physical. However, when our circumstances allow, I plan on doing so and asking Dr. Mele for a light sedative to facilitate…

(Note: These log entries were made prior to the Manticore being relocated to the Andromeda Galaxy.) Stardate 50799.14 …per orders from Starfleet, I have been recalled into active duty. Although my detached leave was supposed to remain in effect until I finished my research at the Daystrom Institute, it is logical to conclude that I am being recalled because of the current status of the Peregrination Project. The investigation of recent events, and my recommendation as the only remaining specialist in the field, has reassigned the project status from active development to theoretical modeling. Due to the volatile nature of the technology, as demonstrated by the catastrophe aboard the Wanderlust, caution, careful evaluation, and extended study are warranted before another prototype is attempted. The fact that Starfleet objects to the status change could perhaps explain why I am being recalled. In my interviews with Admiral Vechnesk, it was clear that he wishes for the research and development to continue. The motives of humans, who are still ruled by their emotional impulses, are sometimes unclear to me. However, I cannot be sure of his motives, since the orders I received were not for the Advanced Technologies Division of the Science Corps, but instead to report to the starship USS Manticore, as an Assistant Science Officer. This would suggest that the Admiral has not transferred me for the purpose of continuing the project under the direction of Starfleet. Perhaps he believes that I need to gain experience serving aboard a starship, to aid in my understanding of their practical functionality, as all my previous assignments have been research related, before I return to the Daystrom to continue the project. Inexplicably, however, he has made it clear that he wants me continue my doctoral work while stationed aboard the Manticore, using the assignment as a work-study program, a goal which seems incongruent with the Manticore's current assignment. From the information provided with my orders, it seems that the primary mission of the Manticore is to serve as a recovery vessel for damaged starships, a proverbial tugboat as Dr. Kosinski would have called it… Stardate 50805.10 …reported for duty aboard the Manticore this morning. In a departure from the standard protocol, I was ordered to report directly to Admiral Atragon-9, rather than the Head of the Science Department. It seemed however, that the Admiral himself was surprised by my orders and the breach in protocol. He instructed me to report to Lieutenant Commander Escher, my superior officer, for further direction. As I was leaving, I overheard the Admiral mumbling to himself about officers being "pushed" on his crew by the Squints in Special Ops. Because I have been unable to devote an appropriate amount of study into an understanding of human colloquialisms and how they apply in this particular vernacular, his meaning eludes my comprehension at this time. That he is referring to my transfer orders is unmistakable, but as I am not working for Special Ops, I am unsure of how to apprehend his context. When I next contact Admiral Vechnesk, who has requested regular updates on my assignment, I will discuss the situation with him…

Starfleet Personnel Record Name: T'Prise Species: Vulcan Sex: Female Rank: Lieutenant Commander Current Assignment: USS Manticore, NCC-5852-A, Assistant Science Officer Birthdate: Stardate 48104.26 Birthplace: Vulcana Regar, Raal Province, Vulcan Height: 1.68 m Weight: 54 kg Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Dark Blue Curriculum Vitae 49709.04 - 50501.06: Vulcan Science Academy, Advanced Degrees in Quantum Physics and Geosciences 50501.20 - 50512.19: Starfleet Academy, Officers Training 50601.21 - 50809.04: Daystrom Institute, Postgraduate Studies in Quantum Physics and Quantum Mechanics (Assigned to the Theoretical Propulsion Projects Group) Affiliations and Accreditation Member of the Vulcan Science Directorate Member of the Theoretical Propulsion Group Member of the Starfleet Science Corps, Advanced Technologies Division Recent Starfleet Activity Placed on detached leave, Stardate 50601.19, to participate in research and development projects at the Daystrom Institute. Recalled from detached leave, Stardate 50809.06, and assigned to USS Manticore, NCC-5852-A, as Assistant Science Officer. Declared missing in action on routine mission, along with the rest of the Manticore crew, Stardate 50809.02. Returned to active personnel status, Stardate 50812.08. Promoted to the rank of Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Stardate 50901.26. Promoted to the rank of Lieutenant, Stardate 50907.13. Promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, Stardate 51003.22 No other information pertaining to this subject is currently available.

Greetings. As a long time fan of Star Trek (I grew up on TNG), I have always been interested in RPG and Sims. Now that I seem to have some free time, I thought I would join one. I am interested in playing a Vulcan character and I am looking forward to getting to know you all, having fun, and learning all about the game. T'Prise